After our Friday date at the MoMA, BF suggested grabbing something to eat. Okay, I’m always game to eat, right? Amusingly, he said, “Whip out your magic deck of cards and find us a place.”
Of course, when I said, “What cuisine?” he responded, per usual, “Italian.”
Sigh.
Fortunately, I quickly found cards for two places that were nearby, and BF easily narrowed it down to this place, so off we went.
When we arrived a few short blocks later, we were both amazed by how busy it was. The hostess, who was a bit daft, told us it would be a 20 minute wait. A glance at each other, then at what people were eating, a silent conversation passed between us and we agreed to wait. The food looked really good, and everyone eating looked happy. The place was bursting at the seams, the music was pumping, the Mets were playing on the televisions (always a bonus in my book; too many bars in NYC only show Yankees games). We were sold.
(I don’t say the hostess was daft without cause. I went in to ask her if she’d called our name, because I’d wandered into the kitsch costume jewelry shop next door for a bit, and this was our conversation:
Feisty Foodie: Hi, did you call (bf’s name)?
Daft Hostess: Yes, (bf’s name) put his name down. Right here.
FF: No, did you call it already? I was next door.
DH: The next available two top.
FF: Umm, okay, thanks.
What’s with me and ditzy hostesses?)
When we were finally seated, I didn’t even know where to look for what to order! The menu had so many great looking items, and I wanted to try so many things. BF even remarked, food untasted, “I definitely want to come back here to try more things. And you KNOW I usually don’t find a place where I order from different parts of the menu!” (It’s true. He is very specific with his orders; he likes certain things from certain types of places.)
I finally settled on a starter of a Caesar salad. I’ve been craving greens lately, and in true to Yvo fashion, I ordered greens one of the more unhealthy ways to have them. (Other times, I’ve had greens sauteed in bacon fat. YUM!)
The best part of this was when the runner was coming out of the kitchen, I could just barely see the top of this bowl as he held it aloft and headed towards the seating section. I said, “I wonder what that is, it looks GOOD,” and was absolutely thrilled when he put it in front of me. The top giant crunchy things? Parmesan crisps, oh my lord yum. I broke these up to spread into the salad but only after I’d eaten a large chunk of one straight, haha. Roughly chopped kalamata olives, bite size house made croutons, and Romaine lettuce dressed neither lightly nor heavily – just right, said Goldilocks! – all combined to make what I can safely say was an absolutely delicious rendering of a Caesar salad. I have absolutely no complaints about this salad, I really enjoyed it (and BF seemed to like it too, as he ate some of it to help me).
And once again, BF opted for the ravioli. He was sorely torn between this or the penne alla vodka, but in the end, ravioli won out. Perhaps the description of the “oversized” ravioli (there are only three on that plate), filled with burrata, mozzarella, ricotta, and parmesan cheeses that enticed him. Unfortunately, as soon as he took a bite, he said “Hmm, that’s weird, it’s… a little off.” He said there was an extra note to it that he wasn’t appreciating, so I took a bite, thinking perhaps some goat cheese had snuck its way in there – neither of us appreciates goat cheese as much as we could – but I found nothing wrong with it. Deliciously soft pasta – clearly house-made – filled with oozy cheese, topped with a lightly sweet tomato sauce worked together in harmony. BF continued to eat, however, so it couldn’t have been too off-putting, and in fact, finished the whole dish. Perhaps he had a bite of the decorative herbs in his first bite, and that threw him (cilantro? isn’t really what I’d scatter on top of a pasta dish).
*Sorry, I was struggling with the lighting and apparently wasn’t holding steady
Completely undecided, though I knew I didn’t want a heavy pasta nor any seafood, I settled on pizza. When I asked the waiter to help me, he actually took me by surprise and said, “Alright, what are you in the mood for?” and took me down a series of questions to land me on this pizza. Either he’s very used to this question, or he’s got the most patience in the world; most waiters just half-heartedly direct you anywhere or to the most expensive items. Not this guy- first it was, do I want a white pizza or a tomato sauce pizza; do I want meat or vegetables; do I want seafood or …
I ordered what amounted to a “Meat Lover’s Pizza” but that in Italian. Pepperoni, sausage, sundried tomatoes, on a super thin flat bread. (He also asked if I wanted more of a flat bread or I wanted real pizza, because there are apparently two options that are not pizza but rather flatbreads.)
Pizza upskirt. Notice the wax paper underneath and the oil accumulation.
The crust was wonderfully thin, almost impossibly so. There was no way you’d believe that it could support the toppings that sat upon it; you’d be absolutely correct. Lifting a slice proved an endeavor in the hopeless; almost immediately, the tip fell south as the pizza went limp, nearly dropping all of the oily toppings in my lap. NOT COOL. I solved the problem by doing that which I NEVER do, which is folding the slice completely in half and using two hands to hold it. The slightly spicy sausage contrasted well with the sweet tomato sauce, and the pepperoni was alright. The extremely rare sundried tomato that popped up here and there was too chewy to be of any good use for me.
Extremely unfortunate was the oiliness of each topping. While I firmly believe the thin crust was awesome, just overwhelmed by all the oil from the various meats atop it, in the end, the sogginess really got to me. Eating all of that oil quickly left my stomach churning in anger that I’d put it through this.
And with each slice eaten, the wax paper underlay was revealed, making me feel more and more nauseous. I stopped eating and took the last three slices home. (Note: when I popped them straight onto the rack in the toaster oven the next day, toasting them for a few minutes, they crisped up nicely and tasted pretty good to be honest. But I would have liked them to taste good when I was served…)
Also of note: the edges of the crust, the “handle” for each slice, was perfectly crispy and delicious, which is what makes me hold firm in my belief that the pizza is good, I just chose wrong. I would definitely order another pizza, perhaps one with less greasy (and less heavy) toppings.
At this point, BF pondered why his dish came with so much sauce, but he was not given bread. Other tables around us had gotten bread. Boo…
Dinner came to an end, but BF kept poking and peering at the dessert menu. Seemed he wanted dessert while I hemmed and hawed. Really, I was thinking about all the oil I’d just ingested, but the dessert menu contained my favorite and second favorite desserts in the world, respectively, both of which I hadn’t eaten in a while. Hmmm.
BF decided to take charge and said, “I’m going to order for you.” I love when a man takes charge, ooh so sexy. Uh, anyway.
My guess is, not wanting to call this a “Molten Chocolate Cake” or a “Chocolate Souffle” like so many restaurants before them, they chose a different name that thoroughly confused my boyfriend, “Chocolate Fondant.” See, he likes to watch the Food Network cake making shows (Ace of Cakes, Challenges), and they’re constantly using fondant to cover entire cakes, etc. I’ve told him before that you wouldn’t want to eat an entire thing of fondant, but he insists it looks very tasty. Fine, whatever. But as soon as he ordered it (for himself, natch), the waiter told him it would be 20 minutes, I knew it was a molten cake because that’s one of the few desserts that come with its own wait time.
When BF put his fork through the cake, he actually said loudly, “Alright!!!” because the center was perfectly melted, but the cake intact. One of his pet peeves for this, easily one of his favorite desserts, is that some places overbake them and the center becomes entirely cake. At that point, why did we wait 20 minutes for just a regular piece of cake? I know he liked this a lot because he scarfed down the entire plate in a matter of minutes.
As for me, BF proudly ordered tiramisu for me. Yes, tiramisu is my all-time favorite dessert (it seems that I can’t mention my all-time second favorite dessert, pannacotta, without mentioning tiramisu as the actual favorite; boy, if I was pannacotta, I’d have a real complex by now!), and I don’t get to eat it nearly often enough as the excessive calories, the caffeine to which I’m very sensitive… well, it’s got the short end of the stick. And pannacotta doesn’t feature on nearly as many dessert menus as it really should, so I’m very limited to when and where I can eat either of these desserts.
And boo to this tiramisu. Sure, it looks quite lovely, doesn’t it? But the fact is, I prefer my tiramisu much creamier, more mascarpone and airy than cake. This was definitely in the cake variety of tiramisu, which, if you’re into that, it was perfectly respectable and tasty. But my tastes definitely run to the creamy, airy, lightly sweet mascarpone, laced with espresso and light touches of lady fingers. In fact, I could probably be happy eating a bowl of gently sweetened mascarpone with a drizzle of chocolate and espresso syrups, topped with lady fingers crumbled for textural contrast. (Wow, that sounds REALLY good actually. I should make that…)
Altogether, dinner came out to $70-80 (BF was happy with dinner and offered to pay, so I didn’t actually see the bill), including the $10 off that we received from the City Shuffle card. (Just one more card to use before I’ll have gotten more than my money’s worth, at this time I’m even!)
Yvo says: Our waiter was very kind and attentive, but not aggravatingly so, and the atmosphere belied the fact that we were smack dab in midtown. There was a giant comfy lounge area in the back that would fit right in the Village for hanging out and drinking, and a full bar area as well. The food was above average and I will totally go back if we are in the area – probably after the next museum visit – to try more items on the menu… Like a non-soggy pizza. I will definitely be ordering that salad again though, so yummy!
recommended
[Please note, in the above picture, the card’s cross streets are wrong. The place is on 6th Avenue between 55 and 56.]
hungry bitch says
If your BF (bitchy foody} is a buyin’, I’m an eatin’! I’m one hungry bitch!
Ambitious says
That is one greasy pizza!
I went there once, but the bad service kept me from going back. Maybe I’ll give it another shot.
Never knew about City Shuffle cards. Thanks for the tip!!
Rochelle says
Sigh, I'm so jealous of your fabulous dates with your fabulous BF. In the best possible, happy-for-you way. Haha <3
Nicole says
I think that cilantro you refer to is Italian parsley…which makes sense for garnishing ravioli 🙂
Draven says
that is alot of oil yo… 0_o