Tag Archives: pizza
Saraghina
It’s no secret that New Yorkers would kill for outdoor space in the summer. But cooped-up city dwellers have found another way to deal with a winter’s worth of claustrophobia: outdoor dining. Too bad the quest for an outdoor table can become as competitive as the hunt for an apartment with a backyard.
Fortunately there are still some lovely garden dining spots flying under the radar, one of the most impressive of which is Saraghina out in Bed Stuy, Brooklyn. Massimiliano Nanni of Manhattan’s Piadina opened this pizza place last June when he couldn’t find enough decent restaurants in his own neighborhood. (He lives around the corner.) (more…)
Posted in Bed Stuy, food, Italian, New York restaurants, restaurants
Tagged Brooklyn, New York, pizza
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DIY Breakfast Pizza
One of the specialties at Pulino’s is the pizze e uove (“pizza and eggs”) on their breakfast menu. The pizza arrives from the wood burning oven with an egg magically cooked into the pizza on top, much like the pane frattau pizza that first made an appearance at Otto.
It’s really not that hard, however, to recreate this at home. All you need is a leftover slice of artisanal pizza, an egg, and a broiler. It beats cold pizza the next morning hands down. (more…)
Pulino’s
CLOSED
What are you willing to do for pizza? Travel far and wide for the perfect slice? Line up in the rain on 14th Street? How about wait two and a half hours in platform heels, with only the air-kissing at the door and jockeying for position at the crowded bar to entertain you? If you’re willing to do the latter, then we’ve got the place for you.
It’s not really Keith McNally’s fault that his new pizza place Pulino’s is so insanely popular – he’s a popular guy. And we found out belatedly that Pulino’s does take reservations. Make them, and do not attempt to just show up on a Thursday, even if you put your name in before 7pm as we did. Glad-handers and downtown scenesters with reservations will just pass you by. At least the guys at the door, familiar faces from McNally’s other endeavors, will treat you kindly, and the restrictions they mete out – no one can wait at the bar, because there’s literally no more room in there – are meted out democratically. (more…)
NYC Wine & Food Festival: Serious Eats Slice: The Pieman’s Craft
Two legendary pizzaiolos, one 700-degree oven, dozens of pizzas, and 35 lucky diners: imagine the pizza feast that followed. Serious Eats founder and Pizza: A Slice of Heaven author Ed Levine and Slice founder Adam Kuban got these two major talents in the same kitchen (once Una Pizza Napoletana, now Motorino) to talk about the craft of pizza and then dish it out.
A pizza shop in a central Jersey strip mall doesn’t seem like a natural starting point for a celebrated chef, but that’s one leg of Anthony Mangieri’s unusual path to pizza stardom. Before Mathieu Palombino owned his own pizza place in Williamsburg, the French-trained chef rose up through the ranks in Laurent Tourondel’s restaurants. After the talk, both chefs got to work in the kitchen, dishing out dozens of pies until everyone was stuffed. A transcript of the talk and some delicious photos, after the jump. (more…)
Accidental Plum Pizza
A fig tart with Stilton and caramelized onions looked so good on the cover of last Wednesday’s NYT Dining section that I offered to make it for a friend on Saturday night. A snack of pastry sprinkled with figs, blue cheese and pine nuts seemed like the perfect fuel for a night on the town. The only problem?
Everyone else in New York had the same freakin’ idea.
You know the feeling: you get to Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods only to find a gaping hole on the shelf where a main ingredient should be. There had been a run on frozen puff pastry at Whole Foods, and the cheese department was sold out of Stilton.
Since I had already bought all the other ingredients and had no more ideas at 7pm on a Saturday, I swapped out frozen pizza dough ($1.69) for puff pastry and, at the cheese counter guy’s suggestion, Jasper Hill Bayley Hazen Blue for Stilton. Problem solved! Or so I thought. (more…)
Lunch: Keste Pizza & Vino
The fact that Kesté Pizza was named the best pizza in New York by both NY Mag and Time Out NY may seem like good news, but you know the unfortunate fallout of that award: many of us won’t be able to eat there anytime soon, because now the other 10 million New Yorkers also know it’s the best pizza in town.
Solution: lunch. Kesté isn’t a take-out shop, but they do turn tables quickly in this casual spot, so you can be in and out of the place in 25 minutes if you arrive when there’s no line. Try a late lunch at about 2:30pm on a weekday. (more…)
Posted in food, Italian, New York restaurants, restaurants, West Village
Tagged lunch, New York, pizza
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Bruni Speaks
Since announcing that he is leaving the post of Times food critic, Frank Bruni seems to be gradually revealing himself. This week: Bruni’s voice! Hear him as he narrates this slideshow of the best new NYC pizzerias. He harumphs (Co.) and at one point even swears (Veloce Pizzeria), declaring a hen-of-the-woods pizza “damn good.”
Chances are, restauranteurs and publicists around the city are committing that voice to memory right now.
If you can bear to wait until then, Bruni is slotted to appear in the flesh with Eater founder Ben Leventhal in “Bruni Unveiled,” an hour-long interview at the New York Food & Wine Festival in October.
The Advent of Evil: Domino's Bread Bowl Pasta
Have you seen the ads for Domino’s “Bread Bowl Pasta”? It’s a big, healthy serving of chicken alfredo, Italian sausage marinara, or three-cheese mac-n-cheese in a bread bowl. Because why have just pasta or bread when you could have twice the carbs in one dish? And there’s nothing like a big chunk of yeasty bread to cut the starchiness of pasta.
Interestingly, Domino’s hasn’t released the nutrition information for the bread bowl pasta on their website yet. But they do have a handy calorie calculator that tells you that there are 265 calories in one slice (1/8 pie) of deep-dish “Deluxe Feast” pizza (pepperoni, savory Italian sausage, green peppers, mushrooms, onions and cheese). From this 12-inch pizza information we can deduce the approximate calories of the 10-inch bread bowl pasta: (more…)
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Tagged East Village rants, foodstuff, pizza
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Lucali's
Pizza, pizza: it’s cheap, delicious, and in the news—even making it into Page Six today via a Jimmy Fallon incident at Posto—an enviable feat for any food item. (Even burgers should be jealous.) Every time we turn around, a new pizza joint seems to be opening: Emporio, Spunto, Ignazio’s, Sora Lella, Scuderia, Kesté Pizza & Vino, Tonda—and that’s just within the last month.
Before you go chasing after the latest speck-inflected wonder, however, don’t forget the classics, because the one thing pizza shouldn’t be is trendy. A hot oven (wood- or coal-burning), 00 flour, the finest, freshest toppings and the correct technique are what go into the ideal pizza.
I had a madeleine moment when I bit into the pizza at Lucali’s in Carroll Gardens for the first time last week—it transported me to a rustic little pizzeria outside Florence, years ago. The Italians would drive for miles to get to this place. And so it is at Lucali, where even at 7:15, the wait for a table for two is two hours. Don’t go hating on the reverse bridge-and-tunnelers like me, though, for the wait—most of it is due to local fans who put their names in, then happily go home and wait.
In Lucali’s open kitchen, which, because of the wood-burning oven, is more of an open hearth surrounded by a white marble countertop, the chef grates the bufala mozzarella by hand. The choices for toppings are traditional, not trendy. One particularly sublime ingredient is the pepperoni, which, according to Serious Eats, comes from Esposito’s around the corner. This plus the onion was a fantastic combination–the sweetness of the onion contrasting with the smoky spiciness of the pepperoni. An excellent pizza is all about balance: the crispiness of the crust versus the chewy pockets of air at the edges, the tang of the sauce versus the creaminess of the cheese, then the high notes of basil and a little garlic. Lucali’s achieves this and then some, since all of the ingredients are potent and fresh enough to stand on their own. The attention to detail is particularly impressive: there’s a scant amount of freshly grated Parmesan sprinkled on top to give the cheese the slightest edge.
The ingredients aren’t the only thing here with an excellent pedigree. Slice reports that the oven comes from defunct Leonardo’s down the street, and owner Mark Iacono, who was raised in this once primarily Italian-American neighborhood, uses recipes from his Italian granny and aunts.
And guess what? The candlelit restaurant is actually romantic. There aren’t very many romantic pizza restaurants in NYC, and this one lets you BYOB, so our tab came to about $30 for two.
Lucali’s Strategy
- Go early and put your name in. The hostess will take your cell number and call when your table’s ready.
- There aren’t any bars right near by. A good option a couple blocks away is Court Street’s Minibar, which has a nice selection of wines by the glass.
- Dress as if you’ll be sitting outside for a half hour or more in the cold, because you very well may be.
- There is nothing on the menu but pizza and calzones. Literally.
- Don’t forget to bring your own wine. Small corkage fee – $4?
- If all else fails, Lucali’s also offers take out!
Lucali’s
575 Henry St
Brooklyn, NY 11231
718-858-4086
Posted in Carroll Gardens, food, Italian, New York restaurants, restaurants
Tagged Brooklyn, New York, pizza
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Gemma
On the day the markets imploded last week, dinner was planned with two people from the financial industry. Watching the Dow trip up and plummet down, it was hard not to wonder what would become of New York chic – would fall’s bags all be burlap? – and gastronomy. Going to the latest, hottest place for dinner seems so cool in an up market, but in a down one, it can feel like fiddling while Rome burns.
So it came as somewhat of a surprise to discover that Gemma, the latest, hottest place by Sean MacPherson and Eric Goode of Hotel Gansevoort fame, is actually down-to-earth. The prices were shocking – and not in a Kobe/Gilt kind of way. Pizzas: $12-16! Pastas: $15-16! What a relief to eat cheap after a day of losing billions. Cocktails were somewhat pricier at $10-12 a pop, but the bartender was kind enough to mix another traditional Italian cocktail when the first variety was not a hit – after carding me, that is. (Eri tu, CB3?) Try the Maldini for the perfect bittersweet 2007 summer libation.
Yet the Taavo Somer’s bewitching decor did not match the menu, because it looked as if no expense had been spared on the surroundings, which have been under construction for eons. The hearth-shaped arches and antiqued mirrors – not to mention the Italian theme – brought to mind obvious comparisons to Morandi, but while that design came off to this reviewer and others as fakery, Gemma’s has an amount of hand-crafted detail that seems veramente Italian. Above the wrought-iron chandeliers, dozens of white pillar candles twinkle in the dimness of the rafters, and wrought-iron gates open into an intimate side room lined with an entire wall of shelved wine. Even the ornate detailing of the scrolly logo seems more a genuine tribute to turn-of-the-last-century Italian culture than an imitation of it.
If there’s one thing Gemma lacks in giddy anticipation it is the fanfare that preceded Morandi’s mating of Jody Williams with Keith McNally’s market. This may turn out to be a blessing for Gemma, however, as diners arrive expecting solid fare by Chris D’Amico, known for his brick oven pizzas at La Bottega, and not mind-blowing culinary wizardry. When Gemma’s food turns out to be good, it’s a pleasant surprise.
As at Mercat, the server took one look at High Maintenance and me – both blond and not fat – and wrongly assumed we were anti-carb or otherwise finicky. “That’s a lot of crostini,” he warned, when we and Hands Honson placed three orders.
“Don’t worry, we’ll eat it,” High Maintenance deadpanned.
The tomato and basil crostini were made with too-tart grape tomatoes, an odd choice in the midst of the green market bonanza going on now. (At least one market is up.) But the crostini themselves were nicely garlicky and crisp. Olive tapenade crostini with Coach Farm goat cheese could have been longer on tapenade and shorter on goat cheese.
There’s not a lot of choice on the one-page menu, so there are not a lot of ways for the kitchen to go wrong. Offerings are fairly standard, like the arugula salad with shaved Parmesan with a light, mustardy dressing. In keeping with the fashion of the times, Gemma has a fancy meat slicer. Paper-thin bresaola was extremely good and served simply, fanned out on a wooden board with grapes.
Since we already heard from the Strong Buzz review that the oven-roasted branzino was nice, we did not feel obligated to go in that direction and stuck to the comfort of pizzas and pastas. Again the quality of Gemma’s cured meats shone through in the rigatoni with prosciutto, cream and peas, served on pretty china. The earthy perfume of the prosciutto permeated the whole dish, as if the rigatoni had been sauteed briefly in the pork fat before the cream and peas were added. It lacked a certain amount of coherence, but this dish was still a buy.
Gnocchi were less inspired, still a little doughy and raw in the middle, perhaps because they were left round and not flattened with a fork before cooking. Turns out that age-old Italian practice is not just for visual aesthetics but for taste. But Hands Honson praised the savory meat “gravy.”
Best of all was the simple margherita pizza, lightly charred on the bottom, topped with tangy tomato sauce interspersed with generous dollops of creamy mozzarella, and garnished with fresh basil leaves. In these new-fangled times, it’s nice to come across a place that just takes an old standard and does it well.
Of course we had to try the nutella calzone. This mammoth piece of pastry, plumped up with an obscene amount of nutella inside (that could have been more thoroughly warmed through), was just as decadent as advertised. But it also steered the restaurant more towards an over-the-top take that is more Italian-American than veramente Italian.
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How to get in? Last week (pre-Styles article), the waits were down to 45 minutes or less from the hour and a half of two weeks before. There are no reservations taken. Best to get there after 10ish, when the industry crowd gathers, or before 8 o’clock, while the young Wall Street analysts are still chained to their desks.
That’s one trend that may be around for a while.
Gemma
The Bowery Hotel
355 Bowery at East 3rd Street
212-505-9100
[Full “borrowed” menu here below. (Thanks, Hands.) N.B. that prices have already gone up since Menu Pages published a version…]
Posted in food, Italian, New York restaurants, Noho, restaurants
Tagged Gemma, Keith McNally, Morandi, New York, pizza
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Morandi
Addendum 3/29/07: Now with Morandi’s controversial wine list! For an update on Morandi’s wines, please see this link.
When most people ask for restaurant recommendations, what they’re seeking isn’t about food at all. “It’s so-and-so’s birthday. Where should we eat?” “I’m only in New York for one night!” Or my favorite, “What’s the cool place to go now?” But if you respond by asking them East Side or West Side, Asian or Italian, you look like a dolt yourself. It’s not about just good food, good service, and a nice atmosphere. It’s an endless quest for a sophisticated, grown-up version of fun.
It’s apparent from the moment you walk in the door at Morandi that Keith McNally delivers just that, again, with his latest creation. As of this New York minute, the scene at Morandi is like Pastis’ in the good old days. There’s the trademark backlit bar with its glowing liquor bottles, accented this time by unfinished wooden beams instead of subway tile. Hearth-shaped brick arches inlaid with shelves of wicker wine casks define each wall. The surface of the bar is beaten copper, the tin ceilings are low – wait a minute, isn’t this just the ground space in a ’60 red brick building? Is Morandi really an Italian restaurant, or is it a McNally theme version of the same? Never mind. You’ll be too distracted by the undercurrent of jazz and the buzzy noise of conversation to notice.
Morandi’s chef, Jody Williams, wowed at Gusto with several dishes that reappear here, the carciofi (fried artichokes) and the polpetti (meatballs). I was a fan of her cooking at Gusto and still am here. But as for fried artichokes, call me a WASP, but they’re all smoke and mirrors to me. Artichokes are a vegetable. They’re good steamed and dipped in a bagna cauda. Fried plain, they seem underseasoned. I wanted to call a do-over and stuff them with cheese.
The olive ascolane, fried stuffed green olives, were like crazy Italian junk food, which doesn’t really exist. I’m not quite sure what’s in them, but they’re good. The focaccia gorgonzola e pere, focaccia with gorgonzola and Bosc pears, was somewhat misleading. It arrived on a cute little wooden board – was this a pizza or a focaccia? Though the pear and gorgonzola combination on top was great, an actual Italian would scoff at the bread, whatever it was, because it was floppy. Some things are always disappointing when floppy.
Sometimes a ray of pure genius would shine through, as with the polipetti e sedano, grilled octopus with celery and black olives. This seemed truly Italian. Why? Because, served whole on the plate, tentacles and all, it is identifiable as a once-live animal. My general rule of thumb with Italian food in New York is to order what sounds gross to most people, because it’s usually the best thing on the menu. A side benefit is that if you’re dining with girls, you often won’t have to share.
Back to the octopus: where, oh Lord, is the divinity in celery? I don’t know, but rarely has a chef elicited such a subtle, delicate flavor from a scattering of celery and olives, a warm vinaigrette, and a slightly charred octopus. I was transported. As at Gusto, Williams has an especially deft touch with seafood.
There were only two of us dining, due to a flu attack on the third, and the staff couldn’t have been nicer about the reservation change and the babysitter delay my mom friend suffered. In short, we were displaying the typical New Yorker pain-in-the-ass behavior that drives some restaurants crazy. Even though we were late sitting down, the waitress didn’t rush us after securing our orders. The busboys, though polite and efficient, were overly aggressive clearers. At some points I found myself literally gripping my plate so that no one would take my food away from me. I felt like a feral animal. This isn’t true of just Morandi though: the overly-aggressive-clearing trend is happening everywhere.
On to the entrees. The tagliatelle alla Bolognese was sufficiently Italian, but not anything to write home about. Sticking with my earlier rule, I ordered the coniglio in porchetta – that’s rabbit roasted in lardo and fennel pollen. Yup, that cute little bunny that’ll be coming round Eastertime. After he delivers your basket full of candy, I suggest you hunt him down and serve him up to Williams, because she really knows what to do with him. This dish was Mario-esque, what with the inclusion of lardo. Williams must have left the rabbit to roast for a long, slow time over garlic. Like the octopus, it was paradoxically complex yet straightforward, and very good.
Though he pings your subsconscious with bottles everywhere, I don’t like McNally’s approach to wine. Compared with even the most basic Mario joint, Morandi’s wine offerings are paltry – there’s not enough information about them on the list, maybe because they’re all pretty basic. The kitschy wine carafes with wicker bases are fun, but they’re also an indicator that wine isn’t exactly approached in the most reverential manner.
As the evening progressed and the place filled up and the noise level grew to a deafening din of beautiful people, I leaned in to talk to my friend and noticed that the table was small enough that we could still hear each other. But of course it was: McNally had anticipated this very moment. Somewhere, from behind the magic curtain, he knew that he would have to balance the desire for a buzzy place with the desire to have a conversation. Just as he knew how to make an excellent first impression: the glowing bar, the jazz hopping in the background, the smiling staff. 
Everywhere I looked, there were hearth shapes. Didn’t I just read in the Times that hearth shapes appeal to “the ‘reptilian mind,’ the preconscious part of the brain where archetypes and primitive associations are imprinted”? And don’t you think that McNally already knew such things without having to read about them in the Times? When I walked back to the restrooms, I was happy to see that he had reverted back to single-sex washrooms so that I wouldn’t have to put on lipstick in front of some gawking guy. As soon as I had the thought, I knew: McNally was thinking the same thing. It was almost eerie, as if he were always right there looking over our shoulders.
It’s no accident that “McNally” has been compared to “McDonald’s.” It takes a lot of thought to pull off something that seems so effortlessly successful. Don’t both
er comparing Morandi to a “real” Italian restaurant: it was never meant to be one. That would be like going to Disney World and complaining that Cinderella is an actress. Look at the exterior of Morandi: It’s practically a stage set, like the American revenge on Italy for the trickery that was the spaghetti Western.
But even when you can see the strings of the master puppeteer working in the rafters, it doesn’t affect the overall feeling of well-being you get from Morandi. It’s not a coincidence that when many people ask for a restaurant recommendation, they can’t describe exactly what they want. It almost defies description, and that’s where McNally steps in and executes expertly every time. With Morandi, he taps into the collective fantasy of what a fun Italian restaurant should be and makes it real.
Morandi
211 Waverly Place at Seventh Avenue
212-627-7575
Related article: More on Morandi
Posted in food, Italian, restaurants, West Village
Tagged Keith McNally, Morandi, New York, pizza, seafood
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Austin, TX
This is a special guest entry from Chef MC, who visited Austin, TX a couple weekends ago, before all the South by Southwest music festival mayhem starts tomorrow. Here she is, pictured, left. Just kidding! I don’t know who that lady is. But whoever she is, according the SXSW website, she’ll be rockin’ it out in Austin all week.
Those of you heading down there will find some fabulous margaritas, hotels, restaurants, and shopping. Oh yes, and some more margaritas.
I am back from my weekend in Austin,TX! Here are some highlights:
* The hotel where I stayed, the Hotel San Jose, a former motel-turned brothel-turned hip happening hot spot. I was in a “Grand Standard” room, which I referred to as “The Cell”. I would describe it as high design done on the cheap (and very well). Industrial, stark and modern, almost cold, Frette sheets and towels, very comfy bed, with a whiff of retro 1950s (which is the theme all over Austin, sometimes with Mexican mixed in). Very professional service. I would definitely stay here again.
Food-wise, the bill of fare is varying degrees of TexMex for breakfast, lunch and dinner, with a couple of exceptions. Plus excellent coffee. My favorite spots were:
* Uchi’s. We had a fabulous meal on Saturday night. Went on the suggestion of my friend, Chef Kevin Quinn and then heard it recommended by several others. It was basically a cool sushi place, but it had more of an Asian-fusion menu. We had the omakase tasting menu, which featured endless courses of deliciousness. It was as good as any place like it in NYC.
* Las Manitas. Best spot for breakfast in Austin. A fresh-fresh menu that seemed designed to provide a rescue from the margarita hangover. This was my 5th visit to the place and it always satisfies. This time around I had fresh squeezed watermelon juice and a plate of Migas Con Queso with a side of plantains. They make their own tortillas and you can watch the lady churn them out while waiting to get in to the ladies room. The menu is here.
* Guero’s Taco Bar. The TexMex here is fine, not amazing. Great people watching and hopping scene. Loved the margaritas. We came here for a long lunch break from shopping the funky boutiques on South Congress. Needed to head back to my hotel after lunch to take a nap. Did I mention the great margaritas? We had tortilla chips with assorted hot sauces for dipping, Queso (basically a big bowl of molten cheese with hot sauce mixed in), and I had a quesadilla platter with chorizo. Oh yeah, and a margarita or three called “The Purest”, which was a mix of Patron Silver, Cointreau and fresh squeezed lime juice. My friends enjoyed a local beverage specialty that was basically bloody mary mix with lime juice and Tecate beer. Very refreshing!
* Home Slice, “Queen of Pies”. Another suggestion of Chef Kevin Quinn. He said it’s almost as good as New York. Well I don’t know about that, but it was pretty darn good. We had a pie with eggplant. Our waitress also made some good wine recommendations to go with it and was surprisingly knowledgeable on the subject.