There are a few dish duplications on Sofi's menu, and it's almost as large as Riccardo's—featuring the typical structural breakdown: hot and cold antipasti, salad, pasta, meat, fish, and vegetal contorni. And as far as atmospherics go it has a comparably restrained, kitschless vibe (I only heard Sinatra once on the sound system). But one thing Sofi offers that Riccardo doesn't is risotto alla Milanese, the saffron-tinged marrow-rich classic typically served with ossobuco. You can certainly order that combo as a secondi, but if you get it as primi it comes topped with a nontraditional, almost southern Italian-style sausage ragout that cuts through the richness with tomatoey acidity. And someone in the kitchen really knows how to cook rice properly, each grain is distinct and al dente, none overwhelmed by the fatty cooking medium.
The brothers Michi were born into a celebrated Milanese restaurant* family, and in these times of spurious and superficial Italian food, it's good to see such a satisfyingly rich, if restrained, almost conservative, approach spreading to other parts of the city.