The name says humble, the prices say, ok, not THAT humble. Thankfully, the food says - I can't talk right now, my mouth is full of Italian deliciousness, and oh, I just dribbled, how embarrassing!
Peasant is located in Nolita, and it has that rough-edged swanky neighborhood feel - all dark wood and exposed brick with industrial touches here and there. You are met by the host/hostess at the door, and across the way to your right is the bar, accommodating approximately ten backless stools. Tucked in that far right corner by the front windows are low benches, accompanied by low tables, suitable for a drink or three before your whole party arrives. Your heels sound loud on the concrete floor as you are led to the dining area at the back, but once you're seated on either the sturdy wooden banquette or a brushed aluminum chair, you take a moment to look around and see it's a welcoming place.
For starters, the somewhat open kitchen at the back of the room looks so inviting, it's all I can do not to pop in for a handful of olives before we get the meal underway. Baskets heaped with produce line the counter in front of the kitchen, and the wood burning brick oven is the star attraction within. The light gives the impression there's a skylight overhead (whether or not there actually is), and the bustling activity of the knowledgeable chefs indicates something special is about to head your way.
What comes out first is a basket of hearty bread and a bowl of fresh ricotta cheese. Maybe they give you butter too, but I can't be bothered with common butter or olive oil when something else this good is available. You now have a moment to look over your menu, and, oh dear, we're gonna need some help. You see, it's written entirely in Italian. That may be fine for basics like "mozzarella," "pizza," and "risotto," but translations are typically needed for the rest. Thankfully, the waiter doesn't make you feel like a mouth-breathing moron as he explains every last dish. You get the impression he's done this before - and he'll do it again for the next party in about six minutes.
Now, I've been to Peasant several times with my family (thanks for picking up the check, Dad!), and I can't think of a dish that has ever disappointed us. Sure, maybe I liked the bocconcini (mozzarella wrapped in proscuitto and breadcrumbs, cooked in a terra cotta dish) more than my non-cheese-loving-on-account-of-high-cholesterol father, and maybe my father enjoyed the orecchiette con cime di rape (ear-shaped pasta with broccoli rabe) more than my non-bitter-greens-loving mother, but none of us have ever thought, "Ew, gross. Why would they do that to us?"
Quick shout out to the polpi in purgatorio (baby octopus with hot green peppers). I can't talk about this restaurant and not mention this ridiculously flavorful appetizer. I'll take two. And another glass of vino while you're at it.
Alright kids, are you ready for the bonus? There's more restaurant downstairs! To the right of Peasant's main entrance is a flight of stairs leading from the sidewalk to Peasant's wine bar. This space is more casual, with diners rather crowded in the small room at wooden tables and along the bar at the rear. This portion of the restaurant has a more rustic feel than upstairs, given the low lighting, stone walls, and close quarters. The vibe is accordingly more laid back. Whereas reservations are typically necessary upstairs, downstairs functions on a first-come-first-served basis. Luckily, much of what is served upstairs is available downstairs as well. Some dishes are missing, but you can still get that polpi. Phew.
I would say Peasant is a great spot for a night out with clients, for picky Uncle Henry's birthday, or a date with that leggy brunette. The wine bar downstairs is better suited to your sister visiting town for the weekend, analyzing your new boy with your old besties, or a date with that chatty blonde. It ultimately won't be the cheapest of meals, but it should be a satisfying one when all is said and done.
Peasant - 194 Elizabeth Street, between Prince & Spring Streets
Peasant is located in Nolita, and it has that rough-edged swanky neighborhood feel - all dark wood and exposed brick with industrial touches here and there. You are met by the host/hostess at the door, and across the way to your right is the bar, accommodating approximately ten backless stools. Tucked in that far right corner by the front windows are low benches, accompanied by low tables, suitable for a drink or three before your whole party arrives. Your heels sound loud on the concrete floor as you are led to the dining area at the back, but once you're seated on either the sturdy wooden banquette or a brushed aluminum chair, you take a moment to look around and see it's a welcoming place.
For starters, the somewhat open kitchen at the back of the room looks so inviting, it's all I can do not to pop in for a handful of olives before we get the meal underway. Baskets heaped with produce line the counter in front of the kitchen, and the wood burning brick oven is the star attraction within. The light gives the impression there's a skylight overhead (whether or not there actually is), and the bustling activity of the knowledgeable chefs indicates something special is about to head your way.
What comes out first is a basket of hearty bread and a bowl of fresh ricotta cheese. Maybe they give you butter too, but I can't be bothered with common butter or olive oil when something else this good is available. You now have a moment to look over your menu, and, oh dear, we're gonna need some help. You see, it's written entirely in Italian. That may be fine for basics like "mozzarella," "pizza," and "risotto," but translations are typically needed for the rest. Thankfully, the waiter doesn't make you feel like a mouth-breathing moron as he explains every last dish. You get the impression he's done this before - and he'll do it again for the next party in about six minutes.
Now, I've been to Peasant several times with my family (thanks for picking up the check, Dad!), and I can't think of a dish that has ever disappointed us. Sure, maybe I liked the bocconcini (mozzarella wrapped in proscuitto and breadcrumbs, cooked in a terra cotta dish) more than my non-cheese-loving-on-account-of-high-cholesterol father, and maybe my father enjoyed the orecchiette con cime di rape (ear-shaped pasta with broccoli rabe) more than my non-bitter-greens-loving mother, but none of us have ever thought, "Ew, gross. Why would they do that to us?"
Quick shout out to the polpi in purgatorio (baby octopus with hot green peppers). I can't talk about this restaurant and not mention this ridiculously flavorful appetizer. I'll take two. And another glass of vino while you're at it.
Alright kids, are you ready for the bonus? There's more restaurant downstairs! To the right of Peasant's main entrance is a flight of stairs leading from the sidewalk to Peasant's wine bar. This space is more casual, with diners rather crowded in the small room at wooden tables and along the bar at the rear. This portion of the restaurant has a more rustic feel than upstairs, given the low lighting, stone walls, and close quarters. The vibe is accordingly more laid back. Whereas reservations are typically necessary upstairs, downstairs functions on a first-come-first-served basis. Luckily, much of what is served upstairs is available downstairs as well. Some dishes are missing, but you can still get that polpi. Phew.
I would say Peasant is a great spot for a night out with clients, for picky Uncle Henry's birthday, or a date with that leggy brunette. The wine bar downstairs is better suited to your sister visiting town for the weekend, analyzing your new boy with your old besties, or a date with that chatty blonde. It ultimately won't be the cheapest of meals, but it should be a satisfying one when all is said and done.
Peasant - 194 Elizabeth Street, between Prince & Spring Streets
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