Missy Robbins's pasta gets praised constantly, so let me be specific about why it earns the praise from a technical standpoint. The mafaldini is the famous plate, but the more instructive dish is the sheep's-milk cacio e pepe, where the cheese sauce is built to stay glossy and integrated rather than seizing — a problem that defeats most kitchens at volume — and the pepper is bloomed at the right moment so it reads as aromatic rather than dusty. That is years of refinement in a dish that looks like three ingredients.
The wood-grilled section is the part of Lilia people underrate, and it is the cooking I would build a second visit around. The grilled clams and the grilled fish come off the fire with a restraint that lets the sourcing carry them, and the agrodolce dishes show Robbins's instinct for sweet-and-sour balance that runs through the whole menu. The pasta is the headline, but the live fire is the depth.
The room is bright and loud in the best way, and the booking is genuinely hard. Take a weekday lunch in the adjacent café if you cannot get the dining room — the pasta carries over.
Note: Dinner reservations open well ahead and go fast; Café Lilia next door is walk-in and a lower-commitment way to taste the kitchen.
