Even from the outside, where a few street-side tables sit before a wall of faux-wood panelling, Caffe Abbracci appears as the setting for a gangster flick assassination, wherein hugs before appetisers morph into bullets before dessert. As such, Caffe Abbracci exudes anti-Miami style; that is, dark and darker. The multi-fingered, pendulous, red-glass Chihuly fixture in the main dining room is a nice touch, as is the huge stained-glass tray ceiling in the handsome bar area, but they don’t brighten up the place and don’t succeed in their attempt at romanticism. In short, the restaurant’s Goodfellas-era look could do with a style intervention. The plates are regarded by the locals as very good and dependable rather than exceptional, but the service is attentive, and the combination has enabled Caffe Abbracci to weather the cycle of Miami’s ever-changing culinary fascinations and the fickleness of the city’s diners. Expect Italian staples built on traditional recipes and a decent selection of fish; the black ravioli lobster is definitely worth a try.