Eat Here Now

When I started working at a new office in Midtown East a while back (riiiiiiight around the time posts became few and far between 'round these here blog parts), I was pumped to explore lunch options and immediately bummed by the search results.  I could either dine at restaurants requiring more time and money than I had to spare, or I could hustle through proportionately over-priced grab-and-go eateries.  But, refrigerated pre-made sandwiches?  Greasy soups that all somehow taste like chicken tinged with indeterminate seafood?  Non, merci.  Dejected, I one day ambled on side streets and avenues until I saw an awning with the words "Eat Here Now."  With no better prospect on the horizon, I figured, "Ok, awning.  If you say so."

Best awning advice I ever followed, because Eat Here Now turned out to be a reasonably priced coffee shop that gets you in and out quickly and with a smile.  Now, you might be thinking, "Fo'real?  We're talking about a tiny diner?  Lataaa," but pal, you need to kick off your shoes and relax - unless you are reading this in public, in which case, relax, but keep your shoes on.  You're not an animal.

The room is a no-frills coffee shop, and the menu is pages upon pages of straightforward (satisfying) American, Italian, and Mediterranean fare.  The real draw, however, is the people who work here.  

My first visit, I was welcomed warmly and directed to a seat.  I ordered an egg and cheese on a toasted plain bagel with decaf coffee.  The order arrived quickly, and I ate it along with the pickles that also arrived on the plate.  My second visit, I was welcomed warmly and directed to a seat.  I ordered an egg and cheese on a toasted plain bagel with decaf coffee - turns out, I am a creature of habit.  The order arrived quickly, and I ate it along with the pickles that also arrived on the plate.  My third visit, I was welcomed warmly, directed to a seat and asked, "The usual?"  In a city of so many people, in a bustling restaurant that sees crowds of locals and tourists alike, I was remembered, and I was impressed.  The order arrived quickly - this time with extra pickles.  

I have been back countless times, often alone, sometimes with friends, and a handful of lunches with my dad.  We have all been treated with kindness and consideration.  Following my dad's first visit, several people asked me to send him their regards; upon learning what I do for work, the owner put me in contact with another customer in the same field; the whole room sang "Happy Birthday" last May when a waitress noticed me putting a card in my bag.

The best part, however, is that they are this friendly to everyone.  A gentleman took a seat at the counter one day and was greeted with a flurry of "Hello, doctor" and "Good to see you, doctor."  An elderly man once asked to sit in a particular section, and the owner playfully teased that he had a crush on the much younger waitress who in turn played along by flirting.  These are small moments, but they make a big impact.

So head to Eat Here Now after a draining shopping excursion at nearby Bloomingdale's, to kick off your morning before a brisk walk through Central Park, or to escape the elements on a rainy day.  You will likely be given a plastic bag for your wet umbrella and quickly asked if you would like a hot beverage.  They're good like that.

Eat Here Now - 839 Lexington Avenue, at East 64th Street

The Meatball Shop

As in fashion and finance, food has its trends. Remember when "small plates" and "snacks" popped up on every menu, even when you weren't in a tapas restaurant? It also wasn't long ago that cupcakes were everyone's favorite dessert - at least until the French macaron came on the scene. So what are we all excited about now? That's right, perceptive reader who checked out the title of this post - meatballs. Varied, tailored-to-your-liking meatballs...and ice cream sandwiches, but we'll get to that later, sweet cheeks.

The Meatball Shop opened in the first half of 2010, and the crowds are as amped as ever, packing into the Lower East Side joint* to get their meaty saucy fix. Be not offended, vegetarians, there are options for you too.

Here's how it works: 5 varieties of ball are available (classic beef, spicy pork, chicken, vegetable, and "special," which of course changes from day to day). These may be paired with any of 6 sauces (classic tomato, spicy meat, mushroom gravy, parmesan cream, pesto, and "special"). The options may be combined in a bowl (4 balls and sauce with a piece of focaccia, $7), as a slider (1 ball with sauce on a mini bun, $3), as a smash (2 balls, sauce, and mozzarella or provolone cheese on a brioche bun, $8), or as a hero (3 balls, sauce, and mozzarella or provolone cheese on a white or whole wheat Il Forno baguette, $9). You can also order side dishes (white beans, risotto, polenta, mashed potatoes, spaghetti, rigatoni, sauteed broccoli, steamed spinach, or roasted daily vegetables, $4), where said sides may be served in a separate dish or under the meatballs themselves on the same plate. Other options include "everything but the kitchen sink salad," which is basically what it sounds like for $8, and "family jewels," which means adding a fried egg to your selection for $1. The mixing and matching adds up to plenty of delicious results designed to your taste for reasonable prices, and that may or may not be what everyone is excited about most of all.

When determining which entree selection is best for your appetite, keep in mind the meatballs themselves are approximately the size of golf balls. No matter how much you eat, though, be sure to save room for dessert - or, don't save room, eat dessert anyway, and regret it later. Like everything else at this establishment, this too is your choice.

Dessert options include ice cream (ok, fine), ice cream floats with your choice of soda (better), and ice cream sandwiches (we haaaaave a winner!) You select which freshly baked cookie sounds best with which homemade ice cream, and allow me to blow your mind by mentioning you may choose two different cookies for each side of the sandwich. I must say, you really can't go wrong, but caramel on brownie and macaroon (the coconutty kind) is so so right.

So sit at the communal table with your roommate when neither one of you feels like cooking, at a two-top with your besty when comfort food is necessary to discuss the uncomfortable topic of how terrible her new boyfriend is, or at the bar with your wife who only knows how to cook ground meat one way (as meatloaf in red sauce, and you're gonna like it). If all seats are occupied when you arrive, the hostess will take your phone number and call when some are finally open. Rumor has it additional seats will be available in Williamsburg and the West Village when The Meatball Shop ultimately expands within the year*. Three places to enjoy the same goodness? They sure do love an option.

*UPDATE - They done did it. The Meatball Shop is now located on the Lower East Side, in Williamsburg and in the West Village.

The Meatball Shop - 84 Stanton Street, between Allen & Orchard Streets
The Meatball Shop - 170 Bedford Avenue, between N 7th & N 8th Streets, Brooklyn
The Meatball Shop - 64 Greenwich Avenue, between 7th Avenue S & Perry Street

Frank Restaurant (and Vera Bar)

Like so many worthwhile restaurants in New York, Frank Restaurant draws crowds willing to wait seemingly endless minutes (sometimes 60 whole ones) for a seat and (if all goes according to plan) a meal. As is the case at petite-yet-popular Tartine, Tomoe, Tia Pol, and even restaurants that don't begin with "T," you can sometimes breeze in and get seated right away. It is wise, however, to brace yourself for a wait, as one is never completely out of the question. Hey, when the food is good, the wine is flowing, the price is moderate, and the vibe is congenial, you sometimes put up with the hassle...or you only go for lunch on holiday weekends when most people are out of town. Options!

Frank Restaurant opened in 1998 with 29 seats and soon expanded to include Vera Bar; a space with a custom bar (at which customers may eat as well as drink), additional small tables, and one large table at the back of the room able to accommodate 20 people. The expansion ultimately resulted in one bustling venue comprised of two rooms and a fenced-in portion of sidewalk out front that can be used for dining as well. Vera Bar is where patrons may feel crammed during peak dining hours, as the stools at the bar back up to the nearby 2-tops against the opposite wall of the slim space, and those waiting for seats stand betwixt the twain. The second room of the restaurant is where we find the open kitchen and small tables whose surfaces are wrapped in what seems to be brightly colored and patterned contact paper - you know, the stuff with which you covered your textbooks back in Junior High (but with more pictured fruit).

Both rooms are snug yet cozy with details like chandeliers, exposed brick, tin kettles on shelves, and mason jars topped with small antique lampshades. Most noteworthy, however, are the decoratively framed chalkboards. Here is where you find the specials of the day, and if you are lucky, those specials will include the luxuriously creamy burrata cheese served over ripe tomatoes. Which brings us to the food in general, which is tasty, hearty, and tasty some more. Frank Restaurant serves the kind of Italian food one might expect to be prepared by an Italian grandmother. Since Frank Prisinzano, the owner, uses recipes in the restaurant perfected by his Italian grandmothers, this makes sense. His paternal grandmother, Elvira (mmhmm, Vera for short), is represented on the menu by way of her lasagna and calves liver, while his maternal grandmother, Carmella, is responsible for "Carmella's slow cooked gravy" on the sausage and meatball hero. Their guidance, combined with Frank's culinary education, result in simple dishes made with quality ingredients - throw in a glass of wine, and it's not a bad day.

So the wine? They're not screwing around here. Over 500 bottles of Italian wine are available (as well as one selection from the Napa Valley - but it's from Italian-American Francis Ford Coppola, so it gets a pass). Some are available by the glass, some by the bottle or half-bottle, and some by consumption. Huhwhat? This means that you may drink however much of the bottle as you would like and then pay only for that which you poured. If you drink half a glass, you pay that small fraction of the bottle's price - if you drink three quarters of the bottle, you pay for three quarters of the bottle. The staff is able to make suggestions according to your tastes, and the "Frank's Choices" list steers you toward some of the best values. All in all, there is a good chance you will not be disappointed; though if you are, the menu (at last check, anyway) said something to the effect of the staff being willing to drink that which you won't.

Go to Frank Restaurant (and Vera Bar) when your out-of-town guest asks to eat where the locals eat, when it's cold outside and you think "Uncle Tony's Gnocchi" is just the kind of stick-to-your-ribs dish to warm you up, or when you are on your way home after the late shift at work and need a filling meal at a late hour (the restaurant is open until midnight on Sunday, until 1am Monday through Thursday, and until 2am Friday and Saturday). Be sure to bring cash, as that is the only form of payment accepted, and feel free to make a reservation if you have 8 to 18 people in your party, as one won't be accepted otherwise. If you don't want to wait for a table and don't want to leave your apartment at all, they will bring the goods to your door if you are within their delivery area - let me know if you intend to do that during peak dining hours, and I just might come over to join you.

Frank Restaurant (and Vera Bar) - 88 2nd Avenue, between East 5th & 6th Streets

Levain Bakery

In a city not hurting for bakeries, it sometimes takes a gimmick to get noticed (see Crumbs' enormous cupcakes or Magnolia's old-fashioned vibe - though don't get me wrong, I ain't mad at those joints either). However, Levain Bakery doesn't offer tricks so much as unique options, and those options are damn good. Ok, so they have cookies the size of softballs, but I promise there is more to this place than that.

In 1994, while Pam Weekes and Connie McDonald were training for an Ironman triathlon, they determined a good way to curb their constant hunger was with gigantic cookies. The women opened Levain on the Upper West Side in 1995 and have been selling six-ounce mounds of awesome ever since. The cookie exteriors are crispy, while the interiors are soft, and when eaten straight from the oven, they are a pleasantly gooey mess. The four varieties include walnut chocolate chip, dark chocolate chocolate chip, dark chocolate peanut butter chip, and oatmeal raisin. They cost $4 each at last check, and all were buttery enough to grease through the bag in which they were sold.

Maybe cookies aren't your style though (weirdo), so there are other reasons to swing by. The bomboloncini (not to be confused with the Gipsy Kings' breakout hit Bamboleo) are certainly worth a trip. They are essentially jelly donuts but are baked instead of fried and filled with tangy raspberry jam instead of miscellaneous red gel. Dusted with powdered sugar, the bomboloncini are a stellar combination of sweet, sour, and delicious.

Other baked selections include scones, olive herb semolina, ciabatta, cinnamon brioche, Valrhona stuffed sourdough, pizza-esque breads topped with the likes of artichoke and gruyere, blueberry muffins, and sour cream coffee cake. Levain cinnamon buns (served only in the morning) have been featured on Oprah, and former NYTimes restaurant critic, Frank Bruni, has waxed poetic on their baguettes with butter and jam (also typically a morning treat). The aforementioned cookies have been featured on various television programs and even won a Throwdown on the Food Network against Bobby Flay. Bottom line, you won't be disappointed - unless you order coffee, and they sell you lukewarm swill, which happened to me once, as these things sometimes do.

Levain Bakery is located on West 74th Street off the corner of Amsterdam Avenue. It is a tiny space down a few steps from the sidewalk, and there is little room in which to maneuver before hitting the display case. The ultimate goal is to reach this case to place your order, so that's not necessarily a bad thing. Behind the counter, you see the bakery in motion, as trays of cookies and other goodies are pulled from the oven before thine eyes. You may choose to revel in the appetizing aromas by eating on a stool by the counter below the window, but odds are you'll want to get the hell out of every other customer's way and eat elsewhere in peace. There's a bench outside if you can't wait long to find that peace...and by "find that peace" I mean "eat your cookie."

Stop by Levain for lunch when you have a hankering for something savory (hi, chive and goatcheese sourdough pizza), or swing through when you need to bring something sweet to a party (four cookies can probably sate eight to twelve people), but be sure to go early before they sell out of particular crowd-pleasers (bomboloncini, I'm looking at you). It must be noted Levain's goods are not cheap, but at least you get some pretty sizable, freshly baked bang for your buck (leftovers are donated every evening to charities). There is a second Levain location in Harlem and a third out in East Hampton, though the Hamptons outlet is only open seasonally (usually from July through Labor Day). Here, they sell rustic fruit tarts not available in the city, but I guess everyone's gotta have a gimmick.

Levain Bakery - 167 West 74th Street, between Amsterdam & Columbus Avenues
Levain Bakery - 2167 Frederick Douglass Boulevard, at West 117th Street
Levain Bakery (East Hampton) - 354 Montauk Highway, Wainscott, New York

Zampa

Zampa is a glorified wine bar. Don't get me wrong, wine bars are pretty glorious to begin with - what with their romantic ambiances and airs of refinement even as you get completely schnockered - but Zampa takes the idea a step further by offering a somewhat substantial, Italian-based menu. Here, you can still order enough vino (by the glass, half bottle, or full bottle) to make your date question whether or not you have a drinking problem, but you may save enough face to wrangle a second date by soaking up the booze with a full meal. It will probably be touch and go though until you do.

In addition to mere olives, cheese, and charcuterie plates, Zampa offers several varieties of crostini, panini, antipasti, and...(sadly, not rhyming)...entrees. On a given night, the smaller plates may include fennel and baby arugula salad with orange and parmigiano, roasted shrimp with cannellini, or broccoli rabe. Larger dishes might include oven poached salmon, roasted pork loin, or lasagna bolognese. The crostini are pleasantly heavy on the toppings (such as chicken liver and vin santo, white bean and duck proscuitto, or fresh ricotta with roasted peppers), and the panini are satisfying for their $10 price tag. Desserts are available too, and if the chocolate hazelnut cake is there the night you are, you should just go ahead and order that. Unless you have a nut allergy - in which case, buddy, you should know better.

The wines at Zampa are predominantly Italian, though something unexpected might sneak onto the menu every now and then. You may also order beer or seasonal cocktails - both, if you've had a rough day.

Everything may be enjoyed at the bar, which zig-zags on the left of the room toward the kitchen at the back, or at one of the side-by-side tables, which run the length of the room on the right. The bar is equipped with tall chairs, and table-seating is comprised of one long banquette and many Eames bucket seats - appropriately named on account of their shape and their ability to contain water. I learned this the night a dining companion knocked an entire ice-cold glassful into my lap, and the water effectively pooled beneath me. Yes, inquisitive reader, my jeans were indeed equally effective at sopping it up like a sponge.

Perks of Zampa include takeout, catering, special events (groups of 10 or more require a price-fixed menu, though cocktail event and tasting menus are available for larger parties as well), and (if the website is to be believed, since I haven't personally tried this...YET) Zampa will create a picnic basket for you. Say whuuuuh? I know! It includes six antipasti of your choosing, two beverages, assorted biscotti, the basket, and a blanket. The basket and a blanket? The basket and a blanket. Additionally, you may enjoy prosecco and a crostini while the staff pack it all up.

So head in to Zampa (located about a block from dell'anima) when you and your girls need to gripe about your day over a bottle or three of Verdicchio, when you and your boys want to get the night started before invading the Meatpacking District, or when you're walking by and become intrigued by the segmented pig displayed on the window. My Italian is rusty (read, I've never studied Italian), so "zampa" may or may not mean "animal's foot," and this artwork therefore may or may not make sense. Like your date at the beginning of this post, however, I shall remain noncommittal.

Zampa - 306 West 13th Street, between West 4th Street & 8th Avenue

Union Square Cafe

Twenty five years ago this month, a twenty seven year old Danny Meyer showed up in the New York restaurant scene. You know, the guy who (along with his partners) went on to open Gramercy Tavern, Eleven Madison Park, Blue Smoke and Jazz Standard, The Modern (as well as Cafe 2 and Terrace 5) within the MoMA, the relatively new Mailalino, the closing-at-the-end-of-the-year Tabla, and the expanding phenomenon that is the...(pause for effect)...Shake Shack. It all had to start somewhere, and that somewhere is Union Square Cafe.

Mr. Meyer's restaurants fall under the umbrella of his Union Square Hospitality Group, and the name alone gives a clue as to what it is like to dine at his restaurants - the staff is hospitable. Duh. From friendly hostesses to a waitstaff that actually consults the kitchen when you say you have a food allergy, you get the impression everyone is happy to help. Whether or not that's true, I don't know, but I'm fine with the smoke and mirrors.

Ok, so you're here. What can you expect? Well, the Union Square Cafe is a deceptively spacious restaurant comprised of several sections. Upon entering, you stand beneath a soaring ceiling and approach the hostess stand. The main dining room is to the left of this area down a short flight of steps. Back on the entry level, there is space beyond the long bar where tables are tucked around different corners and nooks. Finally, there is a mezzanine at the very rear of the restaurant, which overhangs one of those aforementioned nooks. Framed pictures decorate the main dining room, while a watercolor mural creeps up the back wall toward the mezzanine. The whole space is tied together, however, by hunter green trim. It's the kind of green women named Celerie, Bunny, or Dale have used to decorate the smoking rooms of the husbands they've outlived named Field, Burton, or...Dale. All in all, it's a space that's both casual and buttoned-up. Though jeans may be worn anywhere in New York these days, men might reach for khakis first.

Ok, you're seated and hungry. What do they have? Well, it's predominantly American food with Italian nuances. Thanks to the convenience of the restaurant's location to the farmers' market in Union Square, the menu varies from day to day. You might, however, expect the likes of a puree of cauliflower soup with brown butter and walnuts. Honeycrisp apple and escarole salad with toasted walnuts, rosemary and pecorino. Pan-seared sweetbreads with crosnes, cippolini onion, and a concord grape emulsion. Then there's the pasta, which comes in half and whole portions and may include ricotta gnocchi, saffron pappardelle, butternut squash tortelli, or duck raviolini. Entrees cover grilled pancetta-wrapped shrimp, New Zealand venison loin chop, smoked shell steak, and grilled swordfish with caponata and arugula.

The menu also includes a section called "Weekly Classics," where a different dish is the special each night of the week. Stop by Monday for the Maine lobster and sweet corn risotto with oven-dried tomatoes. Thursday brings the rib-eye for two. Saturday is your night if you are a pork chop fan. No matter what night you go, though, save room for dessert. Greenmarket plum upside down cake with spiced rum ice cream? Yes. Flourless chocolate cake with salted caramel sauce? Sure. Mint semifreddo with brownie pieces and milk chocolate sauce? Can I get a vat of that to go? No? Then we're fighting.

Make a reservation at Union Square Cafe for lunch or dinner, though walk-ins may try their luck for an open table or a spot at the bar. You will want to plan ahead, however, for your son-in-law's birthday, that business meeting with the St. Louis office, or your aunt's visit from Connecticut. Hey, Bunny's got a hankering for some lamb chops.

Union Square Cafe - 21 East 16th Street, between 5th Avenue & Union Square West

il Buco

Il Buco is an Italian/Mediterranean restaurant in NoHo, and it is the epitome of the adjectives so often used to describe places to which people want to return - cozy, rustic, and charming. Illuminated by candlelight and inventive chandeliers, chock full of worn wood, and decorated with hanging copper pots and stacked bottles of wine, the restaurant is a warm haven on a bitterly cold night and an equally enticing establishment on a sweltering summer's evening. You should feel free to swing by on more temperate spring and autumn days too, as it doesn't take extreme weather to enjoy the restaurant's ambiance and more-than-decent food. I promise.

Initially opened as an antique shop in 1994, the space evolved into an enoteca and then a full-fledged restaurant garnering attention from noted food critics and publications. What's important, however, is not the praise of the public and self-proclaimed "foodies" (um, does that word make anyone else cringe?) but that you like it. I mean, I do, so you should too. Right? Sure!

The appetizers (including imported olives in wild fennel flowers and fresh rosemary, a selection of cured meats, and a fried duck egg with salted cod, capers, and truffles) are tapas-style and intended to be shared. Of course, you don't have to go halfsies on your cauliflower and gorgonzola croquettes, but how will you finagle a taste of your friend's Hawaiian king prawns in Trapanese coarse sea salt if you don't give up at least one bite?

Pasta and risotto dishes are hearty and may include pappardelle with chanterelles, fava beans, hyssop, and parmesan or gnocchi with peas, housemade pancetta, mint, and ricotta salata. Entrees cover fish (poached halibut with baby carrots, artichokes, garlic scapes, turnips, and meyer lemon aioli), chicken (Milanese style with a twist), pork (slow-roasted), and beef (grilled ribeye with pan-fried potatoes, spicy marmalade, and cayuga blue cheese).

However, il Buco's menu changes from time to time on account of market availability and freshness. The restaurant's website indicates the chef and owners take pride in acquiring their meat and poultry from local farms, using produce grown from sustainable farming practices, and purifying their water via a Dual-Flow water carbon filtration system. So if the bison carpaccio isn't an option on the day you stop by, rest assured something environmentally conscious and satisfying should show up in its stead.

Il Buco is open for lunch and dinner and accepts walk-ins, though you'll want to make a reservation when you can. They also accommodate private events thanks to a 20-seat wine cellar, a 20-seat chef's table facing the open kitchen, and the willingness to make the entire 70-seat main dining area available to your guests. Please note, parties of 14 or more may be asked to partake in a price-fixed menu.

As for that wine cellar, it features recessed alcoves, is lined with approximately 200 wine bottles from floor to ceiling, and is lit by sconces on its brick walls. Additionally, like every interesting New York establishment, it is equipped with its very own legend; it was apparently the inspiration for Edgar Allen Poe's story, "The Cask of Amontillado." Now, the eerie tale imbued me with a sense of claustrophobia when I first read it many moons ago, but I would still attend a dinner party in the room that served as inspiration - as long as I make sure to stay soberly alert and to keep bricks and mortar away from my nemesis.

Head over to il Buco with your immediate family for your brother's birthday, with that girl who's way too young for you yet seems so mature on account of her European upbringing, or with an extended group of friends for that one buddy's going-away party. There's a good chance you'll leave thinking, "I liked that place. It was cozy, rustic, and charming."

il Buco - 47 Bond Street, between Bowery & Lafayette Streets

Don Peppe

I have been going to Don Peppe since before I was born. My parents enjoyed substantial Italian meals there while my sister sat in a high chair, and I was in the womb. We have returned over the years for many huge lobsters, numerous stuffed artichokes, myriad baked little neck clams, and countless pounds of pasta. Decades later, a meal at Don Peppe is still delicious.

Located near Acqueduct Racetrack and the long-term parking of JFK International Airport, Don Peppe is a no frills Italian restaurant in the South Ozone Park section of Queens. A glass door leads to the long, glass-enclosed waiting room facing the street at the front of the building, and a second glass door opens into the one brightly lit dining room. The tables have linens, the floor is carpeted, the metal-backed chairs have plastic-cushioned seats, and the menu is posted on the back wall. The ambiance is not exactly sultry, but you do not go to Don Peppe for romance unless you are having an affair with garlic.

Don Peppe is a family style restaurant in every sense of the term. The portions are enormous and intended to be shared, while most of the tables are filled with laughing, bickering, celebrating, criticizing relatives. Additionally, over the years, fathers and sons have worked side by side in the kitchen as well as within the waitstaff.

So what's drawing the crowds? The food. It is just red sauce, southern Italian fare, but it is good. And by "good" I mean "GOOD." And by "GOOD" I mean "It is so consistently amazing, I want some right now and don't know what to do with myself." What I can do for now is tell you about it and revel in the memories - which is unsurprisingly not as satisfying as going and eating, but I'm tough and will get through this.

There is the string bean salad with tomatoes and red onion, stuffed peppers, and seafood salad comprised of fresh mussels, clams, and scungilli. There's the linguine with white clam sauce loaded with garlic, plump clams, and more garlic. There's fillet of sole oreganata. Chicken scarpariello with sausage, peppers, and onions. Shrimp marinara. Lobster fra diavolo with mussels and clams over pasta. Broccoli rabe. Veal piccata. Beef brasciola. Even the simple capellini with marinara sauce has flavor for days.

The waiters will not rattle off specials, but if you ask what is in that day or peek in the glass case separating the dining room from the kitchen, you may discover some items that are not listed on the menu. If you see baby eggplants stuffed with bread, olives, and tomatoes, order it - they are tangy and tasty. If you hear they have salmon or red snapper in addition to the usual fillet of sole, order it - Don Peppe does fish better than most seafood restaurants. If you are debating between two entrees, order them both - you will want to eat the leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

Beverages include water (bottled or tap), soda (by the glass or pitcher), wine (house red and white are available in unlabeled bottles), and beer. Note, no liquor. Come dessert time, there is cappuccino and espresso to accompany your Italian style cheesecake (ricotta, not cream cheese), tartufo, fruit sorbet, or cannoli. "But I'm stuffed," you protest. No, there's always room for a cannoli.

So here's the scoop - Don Peppe is cash only. They do not accept reservations except for parties of about ten or more, but even then, they will break down the table if you are not on time. They are open every day except Monday for both lunch and dinner, but the earlier you arrive, the better, as tables fill up quickly. You know what else goes quickly? That cheesecake I mentioned, which is not even available every day. As for parking, there is no lot, but street parking is available. Also, though the dress code is casual, hats are not to be worn in the dining room, and this policy is surprisingly enforced.

So round up the troops and show up hungry, as there's much eating to be done. Go with your extended family for your niece's graduation, with those family friends whose lawn you used to run around in your bathing suit, or for your own birthday with forty six of your closest friends. Small parties are easily accommodated, but the more people you have at your table, the more dishes you can justify ordering. Just sayin'.

Don Peppe - 135-58 Lefferts Boulevard, Queens, at the corner of 149th Avenue

Grape and Grain/Against the Grain

There is a restaurant in the East Village, which is really a wine bar and a separate annex offering craft beer. What? Well you see, first there is Grape and Grain, a wine bar that serves dinner seven nights a week and brunch on the weekends. Then there is Against the Grain, which is a sliver of a bar next door serving nibbles and brewskies. Yes, you may order wine and beer at both venues, but the more extensive list of vino is available from the former, while the full list of light, white, pale, amber, dark, and darker beers is found at the latter.

Grape and Grain is a small establishment equipped with an L-shaped bar and several sturdy wood tables. Seating is a mix of mismatched stools, wood chairs, benches along the walls, and pillows in the front windowsill. Ornate little chandeliers hang from the pressed tin ceiling, which help to illuminate the votive lit room. The close quarters, dim lighting, and exposed brick walls add up to all shades of snug and cozy. The pan European food, flowing wine, and increasingly loud conversations mean all sorts of satisfaction and happy. The menu here includes appetizers (such as white bean dip with spiced pita chips), cheese, sandwiches (including brie and ham with whole grain mustard and tomato), pizzas (eight different varieties), and dessert.

Against the Grain is situated just on the other side of the building's residential entrance in an even smaller space than that of Grape and Grain. One raised table runs down the center of the narrow room toward the minuscule bar at the rear. Wooden stools abound, as do hooks on which patrons may hang their belongings. Exposed bulbs and votive candles provide the room's light, while a ledge runs along the left exposed brick wall that is adorned with rotating collections of art. According to the restaurant's website, Against the Grain is ideal for groups of twelve to thirty people, though smaller parties should have just as much fun. The menu here includes charcuterie plates, beer steamed cockles, and beer sausages as well as limited options from next door (why yes, I would like a meatball pizza with caramelized onions, thank you very much). The waitstaff hustles between the two venues delivering food and clearing plates, so at times, the wait is long, and the service is harried. That's ok, though - you have your drink and your date to amuse you in the meantime.

So head over to Grape and Grain with that small group who is conspiring to set that one friend up with that other friend. Down the line, you can all celebrate their engagement by reserving the main table at Against the Grain.

Grape and Grain - 620 East 6th Street, between Avenues B & C
Against the Grain - next door

Lupa

Lupa is a Mario Batali restaurant. You know Mario from his television appearances, his cookbooks, his kitchen products, and maybe even from a mention on your favorite blog (ahem). You may have been to his wine store, you may have seen him and his ever-present orange footwear at Chelsea Market, you may have even been to one (or six) of his restaurants. You might therefore also know that Mr. Batali often partners in his endeavors with Joseph Bastianich, and there is no exception in the case of Lupa. Mr. Bastianich has had a hand in Batali's seafood restaurant, Esca, in his 3-star triumph, Babbo, and in several other projects throughout New York, Las Vegas, and California. Also partnering at Lupa are Jason Denton (of 'ino, 'inoteca, and Batali/Bastianich's Otto) and Chef Mark Ladner (sous-chef at Babbo's opening and yet another Otto contributor). All of which is to say, Lupa's owners know a thing or two about Italian restaurants, and thankfully, at Lupa, it shows.

For starters, the food is prepared well. Sadly, the same can not be said for every Italian restaurant throughout Manhattan. Basics like pasta are often overcooked, drenched in sauce, or they arrive cold at the table. Mercifully, Lupa's pasta dishes are al dente, flavorful without being overworked, and hot. The style of the food is Roman, as the restaurant's full name is Lupa Osteria Romana. According to the restaurant's website (and Italian speakers the world over), "Osteria Romana" means "Roman Tavern," and "Lupa" means "She-Wolf." Parenthetically, you have no idea how badly I want to crack a Shakira joke.

The menu is divided into categories: verdura, carne, insalata, pesce, primi, secondi, and piatto del giorno (aka, vegetables, meat, salad, fish, first courses, entrees, and daily specials). A good portion of the menu is written in Italian, but a glossary on the back will help in the deciphering process as will the waitstaff, who are typically friendly and engaging. The food may be shared family style, or you may opt to hoard a selection from one of the above mentioned categories for yourself - hey, if you can annihilate an order of house made coppa cotta by your lonesome, who am I to say otherwise?

The restaurant is divided into two rooms, both of which are casual yet polished. The front room is packed with wood chairs at dark wood tables, approximately 9 stools at the bar to the left, and a large wine hutch anchoring the right wall at the rear of the space. The floors are ceramic, the walls are a rusty orange color, and the noise level is lively. Pretty much exactly what one might expect of an Italian trattoria. Arched doorways lead to the smaller back room in which the tables have cloths, cushioned banquettes line the wall, and a chandelier coupled with wall sconces provide the light. This back room may seem more serene than the front at first glance, but the noise level and energy in the space depends largely on the patrons at any given time.

So let's talk particulars. Reservations are highly recommended for dinner, though you may have some luck strolling in without one for lunch. The food is moderately priced considering the quality, but there are ways to pay less than what you might otherwise expect. Lupa offers "Roma Mezzanotte," which is a late night price-fixed menu for $26* per person. It is available Sunday through Thursday from 10:00pm until midnight, and it includes three courses (antipasta, pasta, and dessert) plus a glass of wine. The regular menu is also available during this time.

Lupa also hosts events from time to time which showcase a particular seasonal ingredient, method of cooking, holiday tradition, or region of wine (Bastianich is an owner of several wineries; one of which includes Batali as a partner. Not surprisingly, Lupa's wine list is extensive.) A good way to learn about upcoming events is to visit the restaurant's website and/or join their mailing list. Additionally, you may host your own private event, as Lupa is equipped to accommodate up to 80 guests (up to 30 guests at dinner or the entire restaurant at lunch). It should be noted that any party larger than 6 at lunch or dinner is required to partake in a price-fixed menu option rather than dining a la carte.

So next time you are hungry like the wolf, grab your favorite she-wolf and head over to Lupa for an evening in Roma without ever leaving New York, New York. (I couldn't resist.)

Lupa - 170 Thompson Street, between between Bleecker & Houston Streets

UPDATE - The price has increased. I repeat. The price has increased. Lupa's Roma Mezzanotte will set you back a cool $3 more than before at $29 per person. We can storm the streets in protest, OR...pay it. Yeah, just pay it. Occupy Lupa sounds like too much of a headache to organize.

dell'anima

dell'anima (immediate side note - they don't seem to capitalize the name on their window or website, so neither shall I) is one of those places that you pass by, glance in, and think, "Well, that looks nice." Any evening, any day of the week or time of the year, this small Italian restaurant seems to glow from within, luring in passersby - much like the grail-shaped beacon upon Monty Python's Castle Anthrax but with fewer sex-starved nymphets.

It is situated both on 8th Avenue and West 4th Street off the corner of Jane Street. Huhwhat? West Village, you so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby...and other Salt N Pepa lyrics. The main entrance is on 8th Avenue, but dell'anima backs onto West 4th Street, where in warmer weather, customers may dine al fresco at one of the seven or so tables lining the sidewalk. Inside the restaurant, customers may sit at the raised table along the left wall, at the standard-height tables throughout the room, along the bar to the right of the entrance, or along the counter facing the open kitchen at the rear left of the space. When these fifty or so seats are filled with guests, and additional patrons mingle in the small space behind those seated at the bar, dell'anima pulses with energy.

Much of that energy is attributable to the staff. The hostesses up front have always been friendly, even when one might be struggling to hear you over the chattering customers in the background, or the other is relaying jackets to the coat check in cooler weather. The bartenders are attentive, whether you are simply ordering a cocktail or eating a full meal at their bar. The management seems eager to please, as noted one visit when a problem with one dish was not only corrected but removed from the bill.

Most remarkable for their liveliness, however, may be the chefs at that back counter. Their presence is felt no matter where you are seated, but if you are offered one of the raised chairs facing them, take it. The resulting show is impressive, as two people handle boiling pastas, grilled items, scoops of this, and pinches of that in what looks to be the tightest of quarters. Sure, a lot of fast-paced effort goes into dishes at other restaurants too, but at dell'anima, you get a front row seat. A rather hot front row seat, mind you, as you are not all that far from those boiling pastas and grills.

So, the food? I like it. I am a fan of the ever changing bruschette, which are served in small bowls with grilled bread on the side. I am also partial to the homemade pastas, as they are typically well composed dishes. Since the pastas are advertised as primi (first courses, after appetizers) rather than secondi (main dishes), the rather small sizes are reasonable. The menu changes fairly regularly - a sign of dell'anima's eagerness to deliver a flavorful, seasonal meal - so appetizers and entrees enjoyed in the past may no longer be available. Fingers crossed more delicious items appear in their place.

Alright, friends. Time to address the salty elephant in the (sleek yet cozy) room. You can get away from dell'anima having had a terrific meal with interesting wine and cocktails. You can also get away with high blood pressure and a serious thirst. As noted in other reviews on other sites, some of the dishes are seasoned with a heavy hand. A heavy, salty hand laden with the saltiest salt that ever salted. During my first several visits, I personally hadn't found this to be the case - but then there was that OTHER time. Oh boy.

I recommend dell'anima for a time when you are in the mood for an upscale neighborhood spot but are tired of your usual haunts. If your neighborhood is not the West Village (as it is not mine either), it can be worth the trek. Try to make a reservation beforehand, as those seats of varying heights fill up quickly most evenings. They are thankfully available for weekend brunch too (Saturday and Sunday from 11:00am until 3:00pm), so don't feel you have to limit your dell'anima dining experience to nighttime. Good food tastes just as delightful in the daylight.

dell'anima - 38 8th Avenue, between Jane & West 12th Streets (rear door on West 4th Street)

The Spotted Pig

There's a lot of hype around The Spotted Pig thanks to its chef (April Bloomfield), owners (Ken Friedman and Ms. Bloomfield), investors (Mario Batali and Joseph Bastianich were early ones), and accolades (one star from The New York Times in 2006 and a seemingly brighter star from Michelin in 2005, the first year the European guide rated restaurants in New York). These names, individually and at times in partnership with one another, are responsible for The Breslin Bar and Dining Room (currently in the Ace Hotel), The Rusty Knot (a bar proximate to The Spotted Pig and adjacent to the Hudson River), John Dory (now closed), Otto, Babbo, Lupa, Casa Mono, Del Posto, and Becco - to name but a few of many. The Spotted Pig even made an appearance on NBC's "The Office" when Jim and Karen went to Manhattan for interviews before returning to Scranton for a little more Jim/Pam will-they-won't-they (spoiler alert: they will). However, these are not the reasons I go to The Spotted Pig. I buy into the hype on account of the food.

The menu is organized into Bar Snacks, Plates, Entrees, and Sides. Some of the Bar Snacks are large enough to qualify as appetizers (hi, chicken liver toast. I love you), some of the Plates are large enough to qualify as main courses (I see you, gnudi, with your ricotta dumpling tastiness and brown butter/sage sauce), and some of the Sides can be cobbled together for a hearty vegetarian meal (roasted onions and spiced lentils? Come a little closer). The food is basically English fare with Italian flare.

You'll find deviled eggs, mixed olives, and roll mops (pickled herring with onions and creme fraiche) in the Bar Snacks. Plates include smoked haddock chowder with homemade crackers, fried duck egg with ramps, and a prosciutto/ricotta tart with marjoram. As for Entrees, there's the grilled beef tongue with duck fat potatoes and pickled beets (potentially for the more adventurous eater) and the burger (for everyone else). It's a thick, chargrilled patty with roquefort cheese on a chargrilled bun. It comes with a side of garlic/rosemary shoestring fries, which are insanely addictive, even after you've promised yourself, "Ok, this is my LAST one."

So what I'm saying is, the food's good. So is the booze selection, as this is a pub after all. There are the usual liquor options, an extensive wine list, some unusual beers, and a couple cask ales. These may be enjoyed at your table or at the two bars - one on the main level and one upstairs. Food may also be enjoyed at the bars or by columns when tables are full.

Speaking of those tables, like at other wildly popular Manhattan restaurants that don't take reservations, they're hard to snag during peak hours. If you don't get there early (dinner starts at 5:30pm) or mind stopping in late (the kitchen closes at 2:00am seven nights a week), you can wait at either bar in the meantime, or you may leave your name and number with the host who will call when a table is available. So says their website, at least. I've never attempted that last bit - opting instead to sip a brewsky and stare longingly at occupied seats.

Speaking of those seats, some are merely cushioned windowsills, some are banquettes, and many are low, backless stools. Diners here come in all shapes, sizes, and ages, but I gotta say, those stools don't seem appropriate for everyone. Of course, by "everyone," I basically mean "my mom." I don't know for sure, but I get the feeling most middle-aged people with back problems wouldn't arm-wrestle each other over the privilege to perch on one of these. I do know for sure the idea of my mom arm-wrestling anyone is hilarious. Disclaimer: the restaurant does not encourage arm-wrestling at all, as far as I know.

The proximity of diners is also noteworthy. When the room is full and the bars are packed, patrons are in close quarters. The noise level increases with the crowd, and one becomes privy to unexpected conversations. I now know about the active sex life of a 34 year old hipster and the bowel habits of an overweight divorcee. I suspect he was lying - I fear she was not.

Somehow, the waitstaff handle the chaos in stride. Sure, there are times when you may have to grab someone's attention as he/she bobs and weaves through the tightly pressed crowd, but you ultimately get the sense everything's under control. The specials are announced calmly with notes as to which are personal favorites, the drinks are delivered promptly, and plates are brought and removed efficiently. Even with the crowd looming inches away, you're offered a dessert menu as if to say, "Enjoy your meal to the fullest, pal. We won't turn the table until you're ready, friend."

While we're on desserts, I'm going to take this moment to make a plea. The banoffee. I need it back in my life. It's a slice of banana/toffee/chocolate/fresh cream fantastic, and I'm sad it has been off the menu for quite some time. I've resorted to making it at home. Pig, I'd rather you just do it for me. There, I said it.

Between the atmosphere (unsurprisingly, pig paraphernalia abounds - there's even a hanging model outside in lieu of a sign), the crowd, and the food, it all adds up to an interesting night out. Take your old college buddy. Take your husband. Take your mom - just sit on the stool yourself.

The Spotted Pig - 314 West 11th Street, at the corner of Greenwich Street

Peasant

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