Mora

dried out. And Mora’s weakness is that she trips over her high heels a little too often.

Ricotta gnudi ($25), when they’re on, are seductively light and airy cheese dumplings with a touch of tomato and a pile of luscious butterpoached lobster, but on one visit they were dead weight with a thick skin and none of the lift. Pork and veal meatballs ($11) were tender on one evening, overworked and dry on another. The “Tuscan style chips” ($5) are a fine snack, I expect, when they aren’t flaccid. And on the same night, one guanciale pizza ($16) was perfect while another was rendered inedible by a painful salinity.

Indeed, seasoning can sometimes be inconsistent. A deliciously juicy

But as soon as frustration sets in, here comes a perfect piece of roasted halibut ($36), bright and briny with olive gremolata and slivered trumpet mushrooms treated with a lick of lemon and a pickly whiff of dill. Or better yet, a dish of searing, singleminded purpose — Conant’s mushrooms boscaiola ($14), the liquid essence of roasted mushroom distilled into an intense, earthy elixir and poured over creamy polenta. If every dish were this good, I’d never leave.

Desserts ($8) like an apple crostata or a wedge of coconut cake big enough to register on AWACS will satisfy, but a