Rao's

[SilkCity]

As a Rao's regular, I'd be interested in hearing about others'

experiences.

Any others who have breached the inner sanctum of this Neapolitan delight?

[tommy]

a "regular"?  do tell.

a friend of mine went and said the food is nothing special.  surely there are better pasta and sauce places around.  seems like the payoff is saying you went, rather than the outstanding meal you receive.  but, i've never been, so i speak only from second-hand information.

[Fat Guy]

As a Rao's regular, I'd be interested in hearing about others'

experiences.

We'd be interested in hearing about your experiences as a Rao's regular.

[SilkCity]

I think the "Pubs" posts brought Rao's to mind as I do consider it in the "pub" vein;

though more aptly a Neapolitan "joint" (as the owner is fond of calling it).

I do admire all the foodies on this board who are able to

keep up with the latest places.  I am probably more indolent than you; sticking to

my neighborhood (5th Ave/Wash Sq)

regular spots (Lupa, Babbo, Il Mulino, Tiro a Segno), and venturing up-town for Boulud's 3 places and, of course, Rao's.

Rao's, more than anything, is a "club" of only 50 seats, where the usual

restaurant analysis (especially, decor, service) takes a far back seat to

the familiar and "familial" (it helps GREATLY to be Italian) atmosphere.

Even forgetting the celebrity aspect, the experience (after 150 or so visits) remains special:

it is always festive and without pretension.

[Fat Guy]

What's your evaluation of the food alone? How does it stack up against your downtown faves like Lupa and Il Mulino (of course two very different places themselves)?

[SilkCity]

What Rao's does (good, earthy Neapolitan faves: roasted peppers w/raisins (!), pine nuts

and mozzarella; seafood salad; pasta w/broccoli rabe & sausage; "Lemon" chicken, e.g.),

it does perfectly; as do my other stated faves, Lupa, Il Mulino, etc. with their specialties.

There is something to be said for consistency and qualities; no surprises--but, then, againn,

no unanticipated thrills, either!!

P.S. Il Giglio has become another fave and,

given its location with the attendant business fall-off,

I suggest a visit

[Fat Guy]

Il Giglio shares common ownership with Il Mulino, does it not? Do you think it's anywhere near as good? I dined there a couple of times maybe four years ago and didn't think it came close.

[SilkCity]

Yes, it does share common ownership (hence: decor, fare), and

 approaches (though, doesn't quite match) Il Mulino at a considerably

less-expensive  ticket.

Give it another shot, per favore!

[tommy]

i'd be interested in what percentage of these relatively well-fed egulletters have actually been to Rao's. i have to think it's somewhere around 1%, if that.

it is probably going to be tough to get many first-hand thoughts on rao's here.  that owner guy is a pretty cool actor though.  love his soprano's character, and the way he pronounces "peninsula."

[SilkCity]

He's a true charm in person!!!

[Jinmyo]

I was just given a bottle of Rao's olive oil. I had asked for an Umbrian oil because I've had Tuscan and Sicilian up to here. (gestures) Not that I'm that knowledgeable, I just wanted to try something else.

Um. I'm not so sure about this. It kind of feels like buying a restaurant's pre-made sauces or salad dressing or something. My mouth is all soaked with strong tea right now so I'm not going to try it until later.

Has anyone else tasted this?

[Steve Plotnicki]

Silk City-I ate there once about ten years ago. Back then, you used to be able to get a reservation 120 days in advance and that's what I did. When we were there, we had poor service. It was really slow. We must have waited an hour and a half for our first course to come out. I remember Mario Biaggi was there. The food struck us as nothing special. Classic Neaoplitan cuisine. I'm not sure what the big deal is about but the place, but the private club aspect and the ambiance are cool. Over the years, I've had many friends and acquaintances go there and to a person they all have the same report. Nothing special. Maybe it's special if you eat there every week. I don't know.

As for Neapolitan food, I think Don Pepe's in Ozone Park blows it away. But to be honest, I'd have to eat at Rao's again on a number of occassions to be certain about that. It's funny you brought this up though because it is right in line with my post on restaurant reservations on the genral board. Rao's is in the worst category of place. Can't get in. And it's too bad because I have spoken with Frank Pelligrino at a number of different food shows (pitching his sauce) and he is a sweet man.

[sibbell]

Having dinner at Rao's on wedesday, anyone have any suggestions on good things to order??

Thanks

[Holly Moore]

I've been curious about Rao's but have been disuaded from even attempting a reservation.  From what I hear, it's 6 months or more to get a table.  Urban myth of fact?

[tommy]

i think we'd all be curious to know how you got a table at Rao's.

[Wilfrid]

Me too.  Has anyone visiting this Board ever been to Rao's?

(I seem to recall a thread a while back from someone who'd got a table there; anyone else?)

[sibbell]

It just helps to know the right people! Well, I guess I will just have to see what they recommend and post here after the event....

[Holly Moore]

I make it a point to only associate with the "right people" but none of them admit to having access to Rao's

[SilkCity]

Hi, I was the poster who is a Rao's regular.

The roasted peppers, pasta w/broccoli rabe & sausage;

lemon chicken and meatballs are all Neapolitan perfection!

Enjoy

[gaf]

Pleasant Dreams New York City Entry #105 Rao's

Rao's - the old school Southern Italian clubhouse, founded in 1896 at what is today a rare Italian corner of "Spanish Harlem" - is stuffed with "mystique." New Yorkers joke about the networking necessary to snare a reservation, six degrees of culinary separation. And those who are not so blessed (and some who are) turn up or look down their noses at a restaurant that represents, in this view, the "hysteria of hype." As Groucho realized, if Frank Pellegrino were to select YOU, is this really the place you would wish to dine? Rating restaurants by the effort to get a table, Rao's deserves three Michelin stars, but how would they know? Those Gallic judges surely didn't make the cut: Rao's is not listed.

When I arrived in Manhattan, I tried to get a reservation the old-fashioned way. I soon learned that the phone number was never answered (could it be caller ID?). It was a jape played on hopeful hicks. And in time, I came to believe that I was no more likely to meet Mickey the Vest (Rao's legendary sommelier) than I was to meet Mickey Mouse. And like a childish fantasy, I pushed Rao's from my mind, satisfied with Dominick's, Roberto's, Falai, and Marioland.

A few weeks ago, a deus ex machina occurred, implausible had it been scripted on Broadway. A colleague to whom I confided my fantasy informed me that a friend of a friend of a friend (and so on) who was supposed to dine bowed out. Let no seat be wasted; I was invited, warned that sometimes even reservations do not come to pass. And there I was - on leafy corner of Pleasant Avenue, a congenial lane if there ever was one. Being on my best behavior meant no flash photography, so a thin gruel of words must suffice (Bouley and Boulud don't seem to mind, but why chance it?).

From the street, Rao's resembles an upscale English pub, and the front bar dominates the room. (Rao's website needles hopeful applicants that "If you do not have a reservation, you can always have a drink at the bar." I am slightly dubious of this happy welcome, fearing the challenge of crowd control, but perhaps it is so). The room, walnut booths and circular tables, is of modest size with its most distinguishing design feature the excess of framed photographs on the wall. Of course, one no longer finds people strategizing to get into Sardi's, so that can't be all there is. The room is tight enough that gazing at the pictures is not likely. They reflect a surfeit of celebrity, rather than a visual guestbook. Life in Bloombergia insures that Rao's is smoke-free, but with enough imagination one can still smell those pungent Havanas.

Some trattorias trade on the celebrity at the stove - the auteur in the kitchen. Rao's is not among them. Anne Pellegrino Rao (the beloved "Aunt Anne"), the wife of then owner Vincent Rao, used to work the burners, but those nights have passed. Neither the website nor the gossip mill mentions the chef de cuisine. Whoever is cooking has much talent, but the food requires quick hands more than a nimble mind. Unlike Arthur Avenue's Roberto's, which chalks up its specials, suggesting the value added of kitchen inspiration, the verbal recital of dishes at Rao's does not advertise any offering as newly emergent from the gustatory brain.

What is crucial, what makes us all fighting fish, is the company. A possibility exists of being "where the action is." The restaurant is a cioppino of mugs, molls, toffs, cops, pols, profs, players, and the odd immortal Scientologist. This is a room that if one calls, "Hey, Fat Guy!," a dozen beefy necks swivel. But the heart of Rao's are Frankie (Frank Pellegrino, the co-owner), Joey (the maitre d'), and Mickey the Vest (the sommelier, outfitted in one of his 156 vests). Our night all three were present, and perhaps it was the sweet summer air or their innate charm, but we could hardly have been more accepted. Frank greeted us - and sized us up - at the door, and Joey and Mickey each visited the table. Joey pulled up a chair to explain the dishes and Mickey seconding our choice of a smooth, deep Banfi Brunello di Montalcino (I believe this was the Banfi we finally selected). From whatever random act of a chuckling God, we received a prime table, able to observe the community at the bar and in the booths. To insure that the evening was proceeding apace our reservation broker appeared to check on our good behavior, validating our bona fides (Rao's is the kind of place where that matters, a tactic less evident at Chez Panisse). We felt fuzzy, warm, and welcome, and were ready to spend on the dubious assumption that the size of our bill and our repetitious enthusiasm might at the end of this honeysuckle eve translate into a candied, "you'll come back now, boys."

So, we live to eat, no? Point one, no. My Dinner at Rao's was among my most memorable evenings through the Theater of Being There. For a few hours I belonged, and was damn glad. That night is recorded on the DVD of my DNA. Granted Woody Allen, Tony Bennett, Harry Potter, or the cast of South Park were not about, but we could imagine whom our fellow diners might be. And we were treated as if we might be them.

Point two. The food was, given its genre, impressive. I can't imagine traditional Southern Italian cuisine prepared with more mastery and panache. If Socrates were Bruni, he might label Rao's roasted sweet peppers as Platonic. Recall the sad tomatoes at Luger's. After tasting Rao's tomatoes, matched with mozzarella, I suspect some fiendish vegan gavage. Purists might have groused that the baked clams had gone missing under a mound of luxuriant buttered crumbs, but thinking of these bivalves as a oceanic stuffing made it lovely.

We selected two pastas, each perfectly prepared. Orecchiette (Shells) with Broccoli Rabe and Sausage and Penne with Tomato Sauce. I loved the mild, sweet spice of the tomato sauce, and the shells were as buttery as any. With two dishes split among four, we were on the right track.

As entrees, we chose herbed filet of sole, lemon chicken, and veal chop with peppers. The lemon chicken was simple, astonishing, and simply astonishing. The broiling of the chicken, browned to a moist blackened perfection, was matched by its snappy citrus marinade. No steamed yuzu, not even candied kumquat. The veal was juicy and tender, and the pepper, contributed a sweet-sour-spicy relish. I was less impressed by the sole, no danger of this fish being undercooked. It was fish of the old-school. The flavor was evocative, but the texture lacked bounce.

With our entrees, we ordered sides of escarole and spinach. I particularly treasured the slightly bitter bite of the escarole, but these were straightforward greens, boiled and buttered.

Tartufo, a bombe with vanilla and chocolate ice cream with a bit of raspberry jam, was surrounded by a rich chocolate shell. This dessert was as direct and immediate as a sweet can be, but none the worse for that. My friend's cheesecake was smooth, rich, and sweet. It was less the traditional New York slightly sour, slightly dry, slightly dense cake than how cheesecake is currently served throughout the land.

So, how was Rao's? If I claimed that it was a once-a-lifetime experience, I might falsely be on record that I have no desire to return. I lack the street cred to cadge a table without strings, but if I had to choose a place at which to be a benevolent patron, I can think of no sweeter spot than this starry venue on Pleasant Avenue.

Rao's

455 E. 114th Street (at Pleasant Avenue)

Manhattan (East Harlem)

212-722-6709

My Webpage: Vealcheeks

[Margo]

This is beautiful. Lucky you.

[Jeff L]

As entrees, we chose herbed filet of sole, lemon chicken, and veal chop with peppers. The lemon chicken was simple, astonishing, and simply astonishing. The broiling of the chicken, browned to a moist blackened perfection, was matched by its snappy citrus marinade. No steamed yuzu, not even candied kumquat. The veal was juicy and tender, and the pepper, contributed a sweet-sour-spicy relish. I was less impressed by the sole, no danger of this fish being undercooked. It was fish of the old-school. The flavor was evocative, but the texture lacked bounce.

My Webpage: Vealcheeks

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You sir are indeed lucky. I was ever so fortunate to fill in one night many years ago and still so fondly recall the evening.

You might be aware that Frank has a cookbook out (Rao's - what else would it be called?) that features the lovely lemon chicken you just had. I've made it many many times and it is close to perfection.

The cookbook like the restaurant are examples of simplicity, the freshest of ingredients and love. I'm not as smitten with his second book which features not only Rao's, but neighborhood recipes.

[markabauman]

Did I see somewhere that they are opening an outpost in Las Vegas later this year? Any info?

[gaf]

Indeed it is so. See Rao's Opening at Caesar's Palace

The challenge that Rao's faces is how to franchise itself while keeping the local character that makes it so special in East Harlem. Will the ten table restaurant maintain its cachet if the downtown NY restaurant or the LV restaurant are too similar. Will Frankie No become Frankie Yes?

Will Rao's face the problem of Alain Ducasse, or will it manage as Jean-Georges has in considerable degree?

[R Washburn]

Will Rao's face the problem of Alain Ducasse, or will it manage as Jean-Georges has in considerable degree?

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Problem? What problem are you referring to?