Cafe Centosette was once among a handful of East Village cafes that I’d visit on a regular basis. The candlelit brick, cavernous interior used to provide respite from the bitter cold after an evening of off-off Broadway theater or taking in a movie at one of the nearby cinemas. In the summer and early fall it would regale me with hours of colorful people watching over coffee and a pretty good piece of frutti di bosco (wild berry) cake at its sidewalk tables.

The appetizer fare and pizzas that I would frequently order to quell my late night nibbling urges were typically rewarding in both quality and taste. But for almost a year now, I have noticed a steady decline in the caliber of the ingredients at Centosette. The above-average to average standards in quality and preparation no longer seem to abide there. For full review, visit: http://www.thegothampalate.com/2009/01/28/centosette/