Yikes.
Please let me preface this review by informing you that we spend at least one weekend a month in the Solvang/Santa Ynez/Los Olivos area. We have nothing but great love for this part of California and wish we could spend all our time here. Cecco proved to not be representative.
Let's start with the service.
We arrived on the nose for our reservation. The restaurant was busy but not packed to the gills. The hostess (and as we later learned, manager) immediately seated us at one of the several open tables. Our table, though reserved, was not yet set. A back server sporadically and awkwardly dashed around the restaurant to set our table. This was a sign of things to come.
We stared at each other for about 15 minutes, trying to decide if we should bail. unfortunately before we could make our escape, our server decided to check in with us. Fearing we may never see him again, we placed our order for everything at once. We then watched him pour one of our glasses of wine - the sparkling one, which usually is best not left out. He proceeded to diligently ignore that glass of wine and check in with all the other tables he was serving. Then, he appeared to remember that he had another glass of wine to pour, but first decided to bring over the glass of sparkling by itself, and then wandered off towards the bar again. We watched for about five minutes as he once more checked in at the other tables and then again realizied that he had another glass of wine to pour. We had the opportunity to take in the loud, intoxicated patrons seated at the bar while watching him hunt for a "clean" glass for this second wine.
The hostess brought us our salad, which was surprising given that there seemed to be a multitude of servers and back servers aimlessly hustling around.
The Cecco Salad. Drastically over dressed with oil. Salad dressing? Not so much. Mixed greens, sad wrinkled tomatoes, random unevenly-cooked cold potato chunks/slices, flavorless non-descript cheese. Its crowning glory, however, were the cold and soggy lightly-breaded FRIED artichoke hearts. WTF. My girlfriend had to hide hers beneath the sad bread they had brought to the table. Inedible.
I would tell you more about the store-bought loaf of bread that I just mentioned, but it hardly seems worth the trouble in light of the pizza, about which I will now elucidate.
Now, other Yelpers have stated that the pizza is a redeeming quality of this otherwise uneven experience. That was, sadly, not the case. They should eat out more often and elsewhere. We ordered the mushroom, excuse me, "funghi," pizza. Oh boy.
It arrived moderately hot and with a concern-inducing sheen of oil floating across the surface. At Chuck-e-Cheese they at least have the good manners to provide paper napkins to dab away the grease. I mention Chuck-e-Cheese (and its sister company Showbiz Pizza) simply to provide a sense of the level of pizza satisfaction available here. Two half-eaten, tasteless and worryingly ketchup-flavored pizza slices later, and we were headed for the door. The hostess/manager did take the pizza off our check, but the two substandard glasses of wine and sad salad still resulted in a $30 tab. She apologized and told us no one else had complained "that night." Perhaps she said more than she meant to.
Regardless: If you're going to charge $17 for a "wood fired" pizza, it better be really good. Many many other restaurants achieve this feat. Cecco does not.
Run, don't walk, but in the other direction. Or, to quote "Billy Madison,": "I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul." read more