Little Italy

[HungryChris]

I am curious as to why no discussion seems to take place on this forum about the relative merits of the resturants in "Little Italy". My accomplice and I are planning another trip to NYC and she wants to explore same. We recently had a fun time in the North End of Boston and want some tips on Little Italy. Anyone?

[Fat Guy]

I think the reason there's so little discussion of it is simply that so few of our New York users eat at those restaurants. They tend to be populated by tourists and bridge-and-tunnel people. I've made a few forays into Little Italy and found some places where you can get a good meal if you exercise a careful ordering strategy, but for the most part the food down there is crap. If you want the old-school New-York Italian-American restaurant experience you're going to do much better in Queens and Brooklyn. I have a piece I did on old-school Italian restaurants in my newsletter; let me see if I can find a link.

[Fat Guy]

Here it is:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/fat-guy/message/11

But you'll have to take a couple of mnutes to join the Fat Guy group at Yahoo Groups to read it. Sorry; it's not my choice to have Yahoo Groups organized that way. I'll try to repost that on my own site at some point.

[Fat Guy]

Duh. To continue my dialog with myself, I own the copyright so why can't I just post it here? Okay, here you go, from August 2001:

A FEW THOUGHTS ABOUT NEW YORK'S OLD-SCHOOL ITALIAN RESTAURANTS

As Joey Boca (Kevin Kline) argues in "I Love You to Death," America

is an Italian country: It was discovered by an Italian; it was named

for another Italian; and Italian is America's favorite food.

So why is Italian food in America so bad? With 2.9 million Italian-

Americans in New York (not to mention 20 percent of the population of

New Jersey, Rhode Island and Connecticut) one would expect better.

Yet the presence of a sizeable Italian population in the United

States may actually have worked against the development of good

Italian cuisine. Since Italian is not a foreign cuisine in America --

in most cities the number of Italian restaurants exceeds all but the

number of American ones -- we've treated it cavalierly, recrafting it

into everyday home-meal-replacement and kiddie-appropriate grub.

French cuisine, by contrast, with little native population to support

it, has had to sink or swim on its merits.

Seattle-born Mario Batali has of late brought us Babbo, Esca and

Lupa -- legitimate Italian restaurants of a contemporary stripe, with

their "mint love letters," sashimi-style "crudo," and calamari done

in alleged "Sicilian lifeguard style." But this sort of studied

authenticity doesn't evoke the Italian-American cuisine I grew up on,

when plenty of Italian kids in the neighborhood still had

grandmothers who spent what seemed like their entire lives making red

sauce in the auxiliary basement kitchen.

Real Italian-American cuisine makes reference to Italy but is its own

species. Too bad most neighborhood red-sauce Italian places dishonor

this great tradition, serving as they do greasy, leaden meat dishes

and gummy, overcooked pasta with watery sauce. There exist today just

a handful of worthwhile old-style Italian restaurants. They persist,

mostly in the boroughs (none are in Manhattan's Little Italy), and

they serve food that is at once delicate yet hearty, light yet

rustic, and subtle yet lusty. These are five.

Queens

The eminently hideous façade of Manducatis (13-27 Jackson Avenue,

Long Island City, Queens, 718-729-4602, G to Van Alst, 7 to

Courthouse Square, E/F to Ely), evoking an ammunition storage

facility not a restaurant, hardly prepares one for the even less

remarkable anteroom, which has caused many to turn away in the belief

that the restaurant closed rather than opened in 1978. Having a

reservation hardly builds confidence, because telephone conversations

with Vencenzo Cerbone are equivocal at best. Once seated, you may or

may not be acknowledged within half an hour -- the wisecracking

Anthony, the son, single-handedly waits on every table, and you wait

your turn. Don't challenge the staff or try to expedite the process:

This is an idiosyncratic family business that would just as soon not

deal with new customers (despite enough rave reviews to wallpaper the

place, the party line is that they'd rather not be written about at

all). Your order then makes its way to Ida (wife of Vincent) in the

kitchen, who prepares all the food with little assistance.

Eventually, you may get a crust of bread, perhaps a glass of water.

Then, the deluge.

Fresh pasta dishes are the most compelling items on the menu, with

the fettucini-portobello-tomato permutation leading the pack. (Even

William Grimes likes it.) Stuffed pastas, particularly manicotti, are

nearly as impressive. The calamari, not fried, is the most tender

I've encountered. Entrees are what you'd expect: The menu could

easily be confused with that of your crummy neighborhood red-sauce

place, but, as at all the restaurants discussed herein, the dishes

have a vibrancy and realness that sets them apart. They're executed

with panache and there are even a few interesting Manducatis

departures, such as pork chops alla paesana, with scallions, peppers

and vinegar. Daily specials demand consideration as well -- the

surest way to get the best is to place your trust in Anthony.

Cannolis are hand-filled and couldn't be better, and the espresso and

cappuccino are superior specimens.

Once you get through the hazing period and the Cerbones satisfy

themselves that you're a worthy customer -- a process that takes two

or three well-behaved visits -- you're on the inside track, rendering

service a non-issue. But even if Manducatis (which lacks an

apostrophe because it is not a possessive but, rather, Latin for "you

eat") served only attitude, you'd have to visit for the wine list.

When Joseph Nase, long the sommelier at Lespinasse, turned me on to

Manducatis, he told me, "I've simply never seen a better Italian wine

list when prices are taken into account." And that's the truth.

Far more spiffy, or at least far more red, is Piccola Venezia (42-01

28th Avenue, Astoria, Queens, 718-721-8470, N to 30th Avenue, R to

Steinway Street, 10-minute walk from either), which looks in all its

stereotypical old-world splendor like a leftover movie set from

nearby Kaufman Astoria Studios. The cooks are masters of sauce,

especially the garlic-laden product ladled over hot seafood

antipasto, and the mercifully non-gloppy traditional brown sauce on

the osso buco. On a menu of surprising depth, seafood entrees --

especially shrimp, langoustines and lobster, "prepared any way you

like" -- stand out in keeping with the kitchen's ostensibly Venetian

orientation. Pastas too are effective, especially bowties with

mushrooms and grappa, as well as the skillfully crafted gnocchi. A

pistachio cannoli for dessert is a must. Service is unusually

engaging and accommodating, and special requests are handled with

aplomb -- provided you don't mind paying. The extensive wine list,

which is priced well enough, has given rise to a series of special

Italian regional wine dinners well worth attending.

The Bronx

The real Little Italy is nowhere near Mulberry Street; it's in the

Bronx, where Arthur Avenue meets East 187th Street. This Italian-

American enclave, shielded from tourists by its inaccessibility --

you need a car or sufficient MTA savvy to navigate the Bronx bus

network -- is home to scores of the nation's finest and most

authentic Italian food shops. Regrettably, the neighborhood today

hosts few restaurants worthy of its proud tradition -- save for one:

Roberto's (632 Crescent Avenue, Belmont, Bronx, 718-733-9503, C, D or

4 subway to Fordham Road, then transfer to the eastbound BX12 bus

across the street from the station and get off at the Arthur Avenue

stop) is by far the coziest of the great old-style Italians and

towers over its competition, especially the now dreadful but still

often recommended Dominick's.

Formerly known as Tony and Roberto's (until Tony repatriated to Italy

a while back), the restaurant has the best fresh pasta of all those

listed here, and within that rarified percentile top honors go to the

fusilli with seafood. It's served under a toque of aluminum foil

that, when cut open, releases a cloud of shrimp, mussel and clam

aromas, momentarily filling the dining room. After you try that one

ten times, check out the related version with beans but no foil.

Roberto's has acquired some of the best buffalo mozzarella I've

tasted, and the bresaola (air-cured beef) with parmesan and arugula

is first-rate, as are the shrimp with white beans and balsamic

vinegar. Chicken and veal are the way to go with entrees, especially

the double cut veal chop. For dessert, focus on anything with

berries, and do not under any circumstances skip the espresso.

Manhattan

For those unwilling to leave Manhattan, and for whom price is no

object, Il Mulino (86 West Third Street, West Village, Manhattan, 212-

673-3783) reliably emulates and often exceeds the outer-boroughs

places. Sit down and they start burying you in food: Crispy

breadflats, tomato bruschetta with mussels, peppery sautéed zucchini,

garlic bread with melted cheese, and wedges of fresh parmesan. By the

time your waiter comes over to tell you the specials, you start to

worry about how you'll get through the rest of the meal.

Though Il Mulino is among the very best Italian restaurants in

America, it's possible to order badly, and with portions so large and

so expensive you owe it to yourself to stick to the very best

categories of the menu: Shellfish, veal and lamb. Pastas are good but

hardly worth it, save perhaps for spicy lobster with linguini (the

Bolognese is overrated). If langoustines are available, you must make

them your appetizer. Il Mulino has the best veal in town. Order a

veal entrée and, as you eat your appetizers, you'll hear hammering in

the kitchen -- a lot of hammering. You'll see why when the veal

comes: It is every bit of a foot in diameter. The best preparation in

this genre is topped with chopped uncooked tomatoes, fresh greens and

vinaigrette. The unpounded, intact veal chop, is likewise superb. The

rack of lamb is, as the name implies, the entire rack. For dessert,

do not depart from the script of oranges (peeled and sectioned

tableside) with Grand Marnier.

Il Mulino is a nightmare at dinnertime, and I've never met someone

who was seated on time for anything later than a 6:00pm reservation.

Go exclusively at lunchtime, when it's all yours.

Brooklyn

Peter Luger veterans know the scenario: A forgotten street has every

parking space full. But around either corner, nothing. Among the

city's oldest surviving restaurants, Bamonte's (32 Withers Street,

Williamsburg, Brooklyn, 718-384-8831, G to Metropolitan Avenue, L to

Lorimer Street) opened in 1900, before America had seen so much as a

pizzeria (Lombardi's, the first, opened in 1905). You don't need an

archaeologist to identify the strata of renovations, from original

chandeliers to mid-century paneling to a modern glassed-in kitchen.

Stick to the basic appetizers: Clams casino, mussels marinara, and

prosciutto-with-melon. Salads are serviceable, but they just delay

the inevitable: Bamonte's gigantic handmade cheese ravioli, in a

light tomato-and-meat sauce, are de rigueur, and among the finest

I've had. Lasagna with chicken and spinach, too, is extraordinary.

I'd be tempted to order one of these pastas as my entrée, as do many

of Bamonte's customers. But for those who must have meat, stick to

veal -- the seafood isn't quite so impressive.

Bamonte's attracts an unusual admixture of customers: Some have been

kicking around the place since the 1950s (as have the waiters), and

others are drawn from Williamsburg's now-thriving artists-and-yuppies

community. Who knows, if Bamonte's hangs on long enough, some Italian-

Americans may even move back into the neighborhood.

[SobaAddict70]

What Fat Bloke said.

Speaking of AA, when are we going?

SA

[LaNiña]

FG, Have you been to Cono O'Pescatore in Williamsburg?

[Shermar]

If you just MUST go to Little Italy, go to Il Cortile on Mulberry Street. Get a table in the garden room(very pretty). Old school service and serious food. Bring money.

Special occasion only. The Big Man is correct. We New Yorkers don't need to go to Little Italy for good Italian. It's too far out of the way and it has lost what little cachet it had years ago. Most of the waiters aren't even Italian any more. Little Italy is rapidly being consumed by Chinatown. Go now before it disappears completely.

[rslux]

If you just MUST go to Little Italy, go to Il Cortile on Mulberry Street.  Get a table in the garden room(very pretty).  Old school service and serious food.  Bring money.

Agreed. It's pretty much the only 'real' food on Mulberry Street. Some of the other places are fun for the atmosphere - La Mela is one example - but the food is not the first reason to go there.

[Fat Guy]

I think Da Nico is probably the best Italian restaurant in Little Italy, but it doesn't provide much of a Little Italy experience -- it's more like a Tuscan place farther uptown. The other places I like in Little Italy are food shops rather than restaurants. But when people absolutely demand a Little Italy red-sauce restaurant recommendation from me I tell them that Casa Bella can produce a good meal if you order right. Still I think the red-sauce family-style places like Carmine's, Tony's, and Sambuca serve better food than most of the Little Italy places, which isn't saying much.

Nina, I've never been to Cono O'Pescatore.

[tommy]

i would never go to little italy for a good meal. however, i do find myself going back to Pelligrino, and sitting out in the back patio, because it's fun. the experience, to me, transcends the food.

[LaNiña]

Cono O'Pescatore is pretty darn decent. Old school red sauce fare. They have a restaurant and a takeout - the heros are amazing from the takeout place. They have some gems on their wine list, and on Thursday nights all Italian wines are 50% off - some excellent deals to be had.

I've been for lunch a couple of times, and I asked in the restaurant for them to make antipasti with the hero fillings, and they have. Really good stuff.

[Suzanne F]

Nina -- pretty please, where is it? Near what subway?

[LaNiña]

It's in Williamsburg. Don't remember what subway. Look it up

[mogsob]

I'm a big fan of Scalinatella and Il Postino (sister restaurants on the East side). They remind me of a decent, but not great, Roman or Milanese trattoria at twice the price (of Italy, which is far less considering time and expense of air travel).

[Wilfrid]

My heart always sinks when visitors from the UK ask to be taken to Little Italy. But in addition to the food shops, I would recommend the atmosphere in Mare Chiaro, an ancient and cavernous bar on Mulberry where you will still find young Italian men in expensive suits smoking vast cigars. A little bit of 'Mean Streets' if that's to your taste.