Osteria Divino — Restaurant in Sausalito

I first sauntered into this filigreed food dispensary on the waning tendrils of a brisky dusk's eve.

Our maitre d, Zenbôgen (el Hermano primero), seated us promptly in the inky black pit of deepest despair, at our explicit request. Once deposited amongst the gemutlich mélange of plump hassocks, it took many fractions of a minute to receive our twenty seven menus by way of pneumatic tube.

The band was playing some early Sugar Ray (under-rated!) on a haunted harmonium, likely pawned off Tom Waits. Its melody; a splinter of woe, lodged into my mind's ear: To this day, it provides the leitmotiv of my dankest duskdreams.

We ordered off-menu, of course. Our server Stéfañyo, shunted through the bar space like some kind of mechanical sack of reanimated mismatched limbs, teetering on zirconium rails.

We demanded a mango lassi and dragon roll. We were informed that as this is an Italian restaurant the best they could do was a musty satchel of vintage cordials. We acquiesced and were pleasantly confounded by their spurious provenance.

Stéfañyo's black-lodge doppleganger, Stegbā, hovered on the edges of the bar and our consciousness, stalking our enjoyment of the growing night with the intensity matching the numerous racoons, possums, and other nocturnals screaming from the nearby storm drain on the corner of Johnson and Caledonia streets, in the shadows what must have once been a petrol station, but has since devolved into some manner of quaint optometry cult.

Working our way through the meal involved much (mucho) masticating. The exposed bones of our lower mandibles preparing somewhat our nutritive bounty for the journey ahead. Canines pierced and the broad flat molars of our denisovan ancestors slid the blessings into the ganges of our gullet.

Through the drips and dismal slips did slop a spiteful scene. The proteins ripped and alarms were tripped, but the food fell without a scream.

That night, and for two thirds a fortnight following, my dreams were burdened by the spectre of that feast. The band's saccharine melody proved to be Rosetta Stone to appease the djinn of my torment.

Great...

Can not believe we had reservations for 6:30 pm when we got there we could not believe the place first thing very small place and dark place next to a auto repair shop and police station. They advertise live music were in hell would a band play. Now we were sited out side at a table where the wind was blowing. So we decide to try there appetizers start and beer which we ask for Anchor Steam the come back an says they are out of that beer. So order the appetizers that was a disaster a bowl of mussel and prosciutto the mussel had no taste to them I make better mussel at home, the prosciutto was like they took the bread toasted it and but some chop tomatoes through on the toasted bread. If they call this Italian Food it is a disgrace to Italians. And the price for 2 IPA beer and the appetizers was way out of line. We will...

uncomfortable seating (tight and uncomfortable furniture) and no view but... food is pretty tasty. service friendly. The bread they bring you to snack on is SO good, which is why we had so many leftovers :D I had ordered some kind of mushroom pasta - can't remember the name. Overwhelming flavor of mushroom but not much else in there. Needed salt and quite a bit of it. I may be a "salty old man" sometimes but I don't eat with an obscene amount of salt so.. yeah. other than that, pretty chill atmosphere. fun to see people walking by with their pets. Music was nice but wasn't my favorite jazz style. Please update your seating furniture -- at least the ones you put outside. the chair to table height ratio is also not the most...