Over the 11 or so weeks Café Altro Paradiso has been open, I've taken some photographs that are as awful as the food is good. The restaurant's carpaccio is simple and marvelous, a single piece of raw bison pounded so thin that when it is laid over small, newly fried potato chips and a mound of arugula salad, it drapes like purple silk. My picture, though, could be a close-up of a skinned knee, or an aerial shot of a dormant volcano made out of flesh.

One night, a whole turbot was roasted on the bone until its skin neared blackness. Its upturned mouth and fan-shaped tail hung over the edges of a plain white plate. On the side was an off-white gob of mayonnaise in a small white dish, which did nothing to improve my picture but did taste very good on the edge of a forkful of sweet, slightly sticky fish.

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Source: http://www.nytimes.com/