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The food at this Harlem Italian eatery is about on par with that of a banquet-hall in suburbia. Though service is sincere, and the garlic bread (plunked on the table when you sit down) is addictive, little else entices. The laundry-list menu features house specialties like oxtail, rabbit and osso buco, but none were available when we visited; in their stead were dishes like a ho-hum pork chop stuffed with spinach and mozzarella, rubbery sea scallops, and an acceptable but unmemorable veal cutlet. Speaking of old-school, at least there was a mustachioed crooner to entertain us.