The Strong Buzz
New York News and The Strong Buzz in Italy (Parts I and II)
Andrea Strong
Ciao everyone! Welcome to this week’s Special Edition of The Strong Buzz: Get Ready To Vote, The News from New York and THE STRONG BUZZ in Italy (Parts I and II).
Get Ready to Vote: Come to a free reading of PULLING THE LEVER!
With midterm elections just about a week away, I wanted to share this free reading with you all. The Salaam Theatre in collaboration with the Rising Circle Theater Collective is hosting a free reading of Pulling the Lever, an award-winning original play by the Rising Circle Theater Collective, by lead writers Deepa Purohit and Sanjit De Silva.
Pulling The Lever is based on live interviews conducted in 2004 with a unique cross-section of Americans, including an Ecuadorian restaurant worker, a white Republican single mom, an African-American actor obsessed with politics, a young South Asian activist, a successful Jewish entrepreneur, and a Tunisian-born college professor. Pulling The Lever captures the voices of everyday people in America spanning race, class, religion, age, gender and politics to create a bold, humorous, and truthful theatrical piece that draws the curtain to reveal how they really feel about pulling that lever. Pulling The Lever was nominated for six NY Independent Theatre Awards (winning Outstanding Ensemble) as well as being published in Plays&Playwrights 2006. For more information please visit www.salaamtheatre.org and www.risingcircle.org.
The FREE reading of Pulling the Lever will be held on Sunday November 5, 2006: 3pm at The Joyce and Seward Johnson Theater Theater for a New City, 155 First Avenue (btwn E.9th and E. 10th Streets). No reservations are necessary. Post-performance moderated dialogue to follow!
Hope to see you all there.
AND NOW, THE NEWS
Vamos! Tacos & Tequila
How can you not want to run over to a place called Vamos? Funny enough, I discovered this bright new Mexican joint while on my daily run over to the East River, and have watched its progress week after week, waiting for the brown paper covering the windows to come down. On this week’s run, the paper was down and I got to peek inside and check it out (quite sweaty, so I am sure they were so happy to see me). Anyway, the place is a festive oversized Mexican cantina decked out in quite minimalist fashion with wooden stools and communal tables. In addition to a menu of about half a dozen tacos—al pastor, camarones, carne asada, pollo, cochinita, pescado and vegetarian ($9 each), the menu includes snacks like chicken and chorizo empanadas ($7), assorted ceviche ($10), and entrees like pargo rojo bonito—a crispy whole red snapper with spicy habenero vinaigrette ($23) and costillas cascabel ($19)—baby back ribs rubbed with cascabel chiles and tamarind barbecue sauce. To make sure the tequila gets into the equation the bar serves six varieties—from classic to lemon basil and watermelon—plus the frothy frozen ones ($7 glass, $28 pitcher). Vamos! Tacos & Tequila is located at 348 First Avenue, between 20th and 21st Street, 212-358-7800.
Jason Neroni
Jason Neroni, who should by all means be a Food & Wine pick for Best Chef New York City in the next year or so, has returned to New York City after a brief stint exploring the possibility of opening a restaurant in Southern California. Neroni, who you probably remember was last the chef at 71 Clinton Fresh Food, has landed at Porchetta in Brooklyn. In an ode to the restaurant’s name and his love of the animal, he is launching a whole pork program, which means he’ll be making house made sausages, cures, porchettas, and so on. The menu is Italian in its approach, but vintage Neroni in its creativity and execution. What a breath of fresh air to read a menu that excites. Antipasti include braised beets with goat cheese croquettes, lemon thyme, Sicilian olive oil, rocket, and citrus pickle; and chicken liver terrine with fig marmalade, pistachio crumble, house made foccacia. Primi include spaghetti with Sicilian olive oil, lemon, razor clams, guanciale, and smoked chilies, and a squid ink gnocchi with piquillo peppers, dates, gorgonzola, chives, and pancetta. Secondi sound like this: olive oil poached tuna with raviolini of sausage and apple, wilted spinach, porcini juices; skate with crispy pig's foot, black truffle crushed potatoes, sour fennel salad, and braised; and fried pork belly, dried fruit mustardo, cauliflower puree. Yum. The menu was just changed so give the guy a few weeks before you bombard him, and then enjoy. Porchetta is located at 241 Smith Street, near Douglas, 718-237-9100.
Zenkichi
Apparently the Izakaya is the new gastro pub. Last week we saw the opening of Izakaya Ten, and here we go with number two. (A third will be opening in the new year in the Meatpacking restaurant. More to come on that when I can spill the beans, but not yet.) So, this one, built from salvaged wood planks and featuring pebbled walkways, is from owner Motoko Watanabe and executive chef Mikio Sano. Offering modern Japanese pub food (at $5 - $12 per plate), Zenkichi’s menu reflects the modern Tokyo’s izakaya in dishes like Botan shrimp tartar with avocado miso sauce, gorgonzola and pumpkin croquettes, shrimp and camembert tempura, and Nagoya-style teba wings. As you might expect, the restaurant features sake prominently with a list of more than 50 sakes from a mix of famous breweries as well as small, family-owned operations. Taking a cue from Tokyo’s private dining establishments, Zenkichi’s tables are equipped with buttons that signal the waitstaff when you need something. This does not sound good. I am getting a visual of the sick patient being given a bell to ring. And you know what happens there. It’s a dangerous proposition, but we’ll see how it works out. Somehow though, I don’t think I would want to be a waiter there. Zenkichi, which will open November 3rd, is located at 77 North 6th Street, corner of Wythe Ave, (718)-388-8985.
The Monday Room
Public restaurant, celebrating three years in November, will open a new wine bar called the Monday Room in mid-November. The Monday Room will offer 60 wines by the glass, half glass (tasting), half bottle (sharing), or bottle (really sharing), as well as flights of wine. The list will always be changing, and will also feature wines that are difficult to find in NYC. The thing about the Monday Room is that it is a wine bar without a bar; it is an intimate space with a personal wine steward that can make wine suggestions, create custom wine flights, and pass along information about the wines and winemakers. To keep your tummy nice and happy while you drink your wine, Chef Brad Farmerie will prepare a revolving canape and small plates menu with recommended wine pairings ($4-$14).
The room was named for a fellow in New Zealand who actually had a "Monday room" in his offices where he would go on Monday evenings, drink a glass of wine and transition into the week thinking creatively and about what he might be up to next. The guys at AvroKO thought this was brilliant idea, and wanted to create a similar space where people could go, enjoy good company and experience a wider variety of wines in a relaxing environment. Sounds pretty good to me. The Monday Room is available for private events. It is located right next to Public (up the stairs to the left), at 210 Elizabeth St. between Prince and Spring, 212-343-7011.
Cronkite Pizzeria and Wine Bar
After eating pizza in Naples and Rome, I am not sure I am ready to get into eating pizza here in New York City just yet. But when I am ready, I think I will make my first stop this new pizzeria and wine bar from Michael Ayoub, the super-talented pizza man who grows his own vegetables in his garden and uses them on his amazing wood-fired pizzas in Williamsburg, at Fornino. He’s now bringing that same artisan freshness—using only D.O.P. tomatoes flown in from Italy and herbs grown in his own greenhouse—to the Lower East Side with Cronkite, set to open next week. His menu includes 25 pies, from the Margherita to Patate E Salsiccia topped with housemade fennel sausage and the Tartufo, a pizza showered with black winter truffles. He’ll also be offering antipasti, with cured meats from Salumeria Biellese and cheeses from Italy, including Burrata flown in direct from Puglia and stuffed with truffles.
Joining Michael in the kitchen is Nicola Bertolotti, the Master Pizzaiola at Fornino who came to the United States directly from cooking in his mother’s restaurant in Calabria. The wine program (75 wines by the bottle, 15 by the glass) will be directed by Raoul Segarra, formerly of The Red Cat. Cronkite Pizzeria and Wine Bar is located at 133 Norfolk Street (near Rivington); 212.375.1500); delivery daily.
Mai House
This week we welcome Mai House, the latest addition to the Myriad Restaurant Group empire of eateries (Tribeca Grill, Montrachet, Nobu, Centrico, etc.). My feeling is that if Drew Nieporent can do for Vietnamese what he did for Japanese, we are going to be in business. And he has partnered with a chef who is capable of doing just that. Michael Bao Huynh, the chef behind Bao Noodles, Bao 111 knows a few things about fresh bright flavors and terrific Vietnamese food. The restaurant, located in the old Tribakery Space, has great old bones and was designed by the chef and Glen M. Jones to evoke the airy, sexy balmy vibe of Vietnam, with hand carved wood fixtures, zebra wood banquettes, crushed sunflower seed walls, a mother and pearl and bamboo butcher block bar and lotus flower light fixtures. Mai House is located at 186 Franklin Street, between Greenwich Street and Hudson Streets, 212-431-0606.
Cacio e Vino
There’s a little Italian trattoria in my neighborhood that’s sort of an under the radar local gem called Cacio e Pepe. As you might guess, it serves a ridiculously good bowl of the traditional Roman pasta, cacio e pepe. This dish is basically pecorino cheese eaten via pasta. What happens here is that a bowl of hot and steamy pasta is tossed inside a massive wheel of percorino cheese and then showered with fresh grated pepper and placed in front of you to be twirled on a fork and devoured. You won’t be able to stop. It’s quite addictive. This was actually the first meal I ate when I touched down in Rome three weeks ago at a place called Bottega St. Teodoro Via della Guglia, 62/63, 06 6782771). While they don’t make it quite as good as they do in Rome, the guys on Second Avenue do a stand up job. I love that dish. It’s really good and good for your too! Well now Guisto Priola, one of the owners of Cacio e Pepe who hails originally from Sicily, has decided to bring a bit of Sicily to New York with his latest restaurant, Cacio e Vino, a rustic wine bar serving a variety of wood-fired pizzas, over-stuffed Sicilian calzones called Farciti, and a slew of antipasti, primi and secondi typical of Sicily. Cacio e Vino is located at 80 Second Avenue, between 4th and 5th Streets. 212-228-3269.
Café Cluny
I’ve been back from Italy for about a week and I am already hearing great things about this new spot from Lynn Wagenknecht, an owner of Odeon (and the former wife of Keith McNally), Judi Wong and Steve Abramowitz. The menu is from chef Vincent Nargi and Phil Conlon, and it’s easy French—baby beet salad with black mission figs and aged goat cheese ($12.50), sea scallops with cauliflower puree and beet jus ($13), braised short ribs with Hudson Valley foie gras, potato puree and root vegetables ($28), and swordfish “au poivre” w/ haricot verts and elf mushrooms ($26). The design is also Parisian lovely—cream colored walls and floral prints—was inspired by the Cluny museum in Paris, a place I have never been to, but apparently includes floral tapestries. Café Cluny is located at 284 West 12th Street, corner of West 4th Street, 212-255-6900.
Flatbush Farm
I’ve also been hearing really good things about this neighborhood newcomer featuring seasonal locally sourced food. Located on the edge of Prospect Heights, Flatbush Farm is a big old rustic bar, a restaurant and outdoor garden that is meant to harken back to old Brooklyn with affectionately worn furniture. The owner is Damon Gorton and the chef is Eric Lind, previously of Bayard’s. His menu is vaguely Prune-esque with deviled eggs, anchovies and radishes and butter, anchovies and roasted red peppers on baguettes, and warm spiced tuna belly with slow beans in olive oil. Main courses sound like this: duck confit with lentils and frisee, braised lamb shoulder with bubble and squeak, and pork goulash with egg noodles. Flatbush Farm is located 76 Saint Marks Avenue (Sixth Avenue and Flatbush), 718-622-3276, www.flatbushfarm.com.
THE STRONG BUZZ, ITALY EDITION
Well, my dear buzzards, I have returned from Italy, plumped up to a new super huge girth thanks to a diet of pasta, pizza, and gelato. It was a great trip and one that reminded of a book I read this summer by Elizabeth Gilbert called Eat, Pray, Love. This is a terrific memoir of a year the writer spent living in Italy, India, and Thailand. During the four months she lived in Italy, she nursed a broken heart and a fragile spirit on a steady stream of gelato, pasta, and the romance of the Italian language. She called her approach to eating in Italy the “No Carb Left Behind Diet.” I cracked up when I read that. I just loved it. And now, I too have lived it.
Indeed, it was this phrase that came to mind pretty much daily, if not more than that (every hour is probably more like it) during my two weeks in Italy, on vacation with Jamie and Adrienne visiting one of our closest friends, Susie, who moved to Rome last year for work.
Susie lives the Tridente, a bustling neighborhood near the Spanish Steps and Piazza del Popolo, in a great apartment with a terrace and a roofdeck. It was quite a nice change from the cave I currently inhabit here in Union Square. Most mornings, belly still full from the night before, I would wake up, have a latte, and go for a run in Villa Borghese (a Central Park-ish experience) in a futile attempt to try to combat the effects of the No Carb Left Behind Diet (hereinafter, the “NCLB Diet”). After that useless effort, it was pretty much every woman for herself, as we canvassed restaurants, fornos, pizzerias, gelaterias, and farm markets from Rome to Naples, Capri, Tuscany and Umbria, devouring every edible opportunity in our path.
In this edition of the Buzz, I’ve shared with you my meals in Rome, Naples and Capri. A bonus buzz, which will arrive in your mailboxes on Wednesday morning, covers Tuscany and Umbria. I have tried to distill the most wonderful eating experiences of these adventures in hopes that when you travel you too can leave no carb behind.
Next week, we are back to meals in this fine place known as New York City.
Rome
Hosteria Del Pesce
Via Monserrato, 32
06-686-5617
This place is like something out of a fish lover’s ultimate dream sequence. Located behind the façade of a small fish shop, you might miss it, so walk slowly and when you spy a postage stamp-sized fish market with glistening tuna, bass, and langoustine the size of house cats displayed on beds of ice, stop. Walk inside, and through a secreted set of doors, you will find a rustic and lively restaurant with a vibe similar to that of Blue Ribbon—dark, dreamy, and packed, in this case with dozens of beautiful Italians crowded into tables, chatting, drinking and eating, passing platters of raw bar with huge smiles on their faces. It’s like everyone is on happy pills or something.
There is no menu here, just a selection of raw, fried and/or cooked seafood and shellfish that you can opt in or out of. Once you tell your waiter to start, the food begins to arrive. It stops when you tell him to stop. Make sure to try the raw crudos and carpaccios, sheared from the fresh fish sitting on those beds of ice out front. They are gorgeous, just simply seasoned with olive oil, sea salt and lemon. Also have the raw bar (especially those langoustines), but really you can skip the pastas. There are better places for it. Stick with fish here people. To wash down all that seafood, there’s a great all white wine list. For dessert, have the fruit and gelato platter served on a bed of cold dry ice; what Susie’s friend Stefano explained is called a fruttini di gelato. This fairly traditional Roman dessert includes seasonal fruit, some sliced up into chunks and some just sliced down the center so they can be filled with a gelato or sorbet to match the fruit’s flavor and texture. I’ll be honest: It will change your life. We had a riotous night here, with a table of four Italian gentlemen making it their mission to charm us and hopefully bed us, neither of which happened, but it was wildly amusing. We finished the night with a drink called a Scroppino—a cold frothy lemon cocktail made from lemon sorbetto and vodka. Enjoy.
La Sorelle
Via Belsiana, 30
06 679-4969
www.lasorelle.it
Susie took us here one night with a few of her friends from work (including Stefano). There were eight of us, and we drank at least a bottle of wine each, which was reflected in the check, which Susie graciously (and in a moment of temporary insanity) picked up. Thanks Susie.
This restaurant is charming and warm, with tightly spaced wooden tables dressed with white linen runners, walls covered in assorted tiles and hung with terra cotta ceramics, and flickering candlelight. From a one chef kitchen (his name is Dominic) comes some terrific food, especially the pasta, including a favorite of mine and Adrienne’s, the tonarelli (sort of like spaghetti crossed with fettucine) tossed with pecorino, hunks of bacon, and topped with fresh shaved truffles. Jamie and her new friend Tarik preferred the lamb and mint ragu, a richly simmered meaty sauce that dressed ribbons of fresh cut fettucine. The aroma of the mint was gorgeous. I’d hit this place on a night you want a warm, convivial atmosphere, a good bowl of pasta and a bottle of wine, and for starters, if porcini are in season, you really should start with a salad of fresh ones, shaved and tossed with arugula, parmesan, lemon and mint. Yum. I loved this place so much I went back twice.
Forno Campo di Fiore
Campo di Fiore
06 688 06662
www.fornocampodifiore.com
One of my missions while in Rome was to explore the Fornos, the old-world bakeries fueled by wood burning ovens that turn out impossibly flaky and crisp pizzas in long rectangular slabs. The pizzas are sliced (with a cleaver used for meat) to the size you are hungry for. If you want less, say piu piccolo, or more, piu grande, or just make hand gestures. I speak no Italian and that worked fine. I was gesturing wildly all over town. This Forno, located in Campo di Fiore, was my favorite. Try the pizza bianco, a simple flaky rectangular slab that is airy and light on the inside and crisped on the out, shimmering with olive oil and sprinkled with sea salt. The tomato and cheese, a thin layer of bubbly mozzarella over a smooth, supremely seasoned tomato sauce, is also wonderful. I would place both into the category of edible divinity.
‘Gusto
Via della Frezza, 9
06 322 6273
www.gusto.it
This restaurant is really a complex of many restaurants, and shops even. It includes a sleek urban wine bar and café open morning to night (that serves a free Italian smorgasbord with your glass of wine at happy hour), a pizzeria, a cheese shop, cook’s shop selling books and wares, and a more modern and upscale (in theory, not dress) ristorante serving a more creative selection of antipasti, primi, pastas, and secondi than I found in most other restaurants I visited in Rome. The vibe here is also decidedly more hip and stylish than your traditional rustic trattoria. You’ll find a room that feel urban and modern, where slabs of ivory marble are mixed with dark hard wood, and wrought iron. There is cool industrial lighting, rather than the ubiquitous candle lit vibe. And the food was very good; in fact this is one restaurant I would recommend booking in advance.
On the night we went, we hadn’t reserved, and the hostess was rather dismissive of us when we arrived and asked for a table for four. She simply said, “No,” and then turned her nose up in the air. We asked to wait in the bar in case something came up, and she clearly had never heard such a preposterous idea before in her life. She had no interest in us and had no possible idea of what to make of us, so she continued to ignore us. Finally, a gentleman agreed to place our name on a list, but gave us the look reserved for pathetic obtrusive gauche Americans. We didn’t mind. We moved to the bar where we waited about an hour and a half, quite happy with the free buffet of snacks, and then were moved up to a table for four where we had a great meal. A bottle of Nero D’Avola from Cussamano started things off well. For dinner we loved the red mullet appetizer with white beans, and olive tapenade, and an antipasti of roasted zucchini stuffed with Greek feta and topped with oven roasted tomatoes with a few juicy shrimp, heads still on, straight from the grill. For dinner, we went for something a little out of the ordinary—a selection of cast iron cooked steak, vegetables, and shrimp, sort of Italian wok style and a steamy bowl of Moroccan cous cous. If you live in Rome and need a pasta break, this is a good place to go. Then again, if you cannot dream of a meal not including pasta (blasphemy!) the ones here are quite generously portioned and also very good. But make sure you go for the buffet at happy hour: good times, good times.
Quetzalcoatl Chocolatier
Via de Carrozze, 26
06-69202191
If you are craving chocolate, as Adrienne pretty much does on an hourly basis, this is a great place to get your fix. It’s an elegant little shop with handmade chocolates and bon bons displayed in glass cases like Tiffany jewels. The boxes make nice gifts too, but in my experience the gifts were eaten prior to delivery, so you might want to stick to something like a wallet or a purse, which hopefully you won’t be tempted to eat.
Naples
A note about Naples before we get to the pizza we consumed while there. Naples it absolutely nuts. The place makes New York City seem positively provincial. First, there are the taxi drivers who will rip you off any and every chance they get even though the rates are clearly metered or marked by zone. Now, aside from being robbed by cab drivers, they will probably put you in fear for your life on several occasions. I recommend a Valium or Klonopin before getting in. Once you start going you realize there are no lanes for traffic in Naples. There are cars going every which way, at freeway speeds, with scooters swooshing in between cars in spaces that practically don’t exist. You may scream out loud on several occasions, for instance if a scooter and a car are heading directly at your vehicle, in a spontaneous game of Naples chicken. There are no rules. Parking spaces are born from cars that stop and decide to create their own makeshift parking lots. So, if I were to do the trip again, I would go directly from the train station on foot to Pizzeria di Michele, have a few pies, and then go directly to Capri by hydra foil. No need to spend the night in Naples in my opinion. Now, about that pizza.
L’Antica Pizzeria da Michele, Since 1870
Via Cesare Sersale. 1/3
+39 81 553 9204
info@damichele.net
This place is famous for its authentic pizza made in the traditional Neapolitan style—wood fired oven only, hand-kneaded dough made from 00 flour, San Marzano (plum) tomatoes, all natural fior-di-latte or bufala mozzarella, fresh basil, salt and yeast. What this means is pizza that will move you in ways reserved for the most delicious lovers. (Which was nice, considering I was away from Craig for two weeks.)
At L’Antica Pizzeria, in order to experience this pizza pleasure, first, you have to take a number. Then you wait out on the sidewalk, a space the size of a ship’s gang plank. And there, amidst the chaos that is Naples in the afternoon, you wait and pray not to get hit by a car, a person, a scooter, a motorcycle, or some combination of all four. But the wait isn’t that long. We spent only about 15 minutes out on the deathwalk known as the sidewalk, and then were called into the pizzeria, safe and sound and in arm’s reach of that pizza.
You order from a menu taped to the wall that lists the two pizzas (with cheese or without) in three sizes (normal, medium and maxi) and then wait and drool as other pies are slipped in front of people next to you. Honestly, it’s torture waiting for your own, but when it comes, it’s worth every near death experience you have to survive to get there.
The restaurant itself is a total no frills joint with fluorescent lighting, and marble tables with iron legs shared with strangers there for the same reason as you are. The biblical pies—airy but chewy yet still crisp crusted pizzas, charred in the right places, and topped with melting puddles of mozzarella, fresh pulpy tomato sauce, and a single basil leaf. I felt like that restaurant reviewer character from Mystic Pizza while eating it. I was quite happy. The version without cheese features a tomato sauce that is seasoned aggressively with fruity olive oil and oregano. We had one of each and actually preferred the one without cheese; that sauce is terrific. This pizza is definitely wetter than regular pies, so the crust can get a bit soggy, but no matter. The rich smoky char from the wood oven, the quality of the ingredients, the flavor of the sauce, all make that issue of little significance.
Antica Pizzeria di Matteo
Via Tribunali, 94
081 455262
www.pizzeriadimatteo.it
We hit this pizza place about four hours after our first, enough time for our appetites to return after a long walk around the city. Di Matteo is located on a quaint little side street, and is smaller and a bit less chaotic than the first. You don’t need to take a number here. They also serve 25 different kinds of pizza, a real no-no by authentic purist who believe only of classic varieties, not in experiments with eggplant, mushrooms and proscuito. But this is a certified Neapolitan pizzeria, made in the fire-breathing oven, according to traditional rules. The dough is kneaded and plied by hefty men in loose wrinkled white t-shirts and smudged aprons who send it into the oven on wide wooden pizza spatulas and serve it to you piping hot and freshly charred, with just the slightest smoke in the crust. We actually liked this pizza better. The crust was a touch crisper, and just slightly saltier, which we preferred to the one at Michele. And the tomatoes in the sauce were sweeter and plump with fuller flavors. We ate one pizza between the three of us, and could have eaten another. Instead we spent a good fifteen minutes mopping every last bit of sauce and cheese that had dripped from the pie into the silver tray with pieces of the puffy bordering crust. What’s better than that?
Capri
Ristorante Terrazza Brunella
Via Tragara, 24/a
081 837 0122
www.viabrunella.it
We arrived in Capri from Naples by high-speed ferryboat (it takes about an hour) on a stunning day where the sun lit up an impossibly clear blue sky. We hopped on the funicular to the top part of the island and I was almost moved to tears at the scene stretched out below—the sea, the mountains, the fishing boats, the sky. If any of you have been to Capri, you know what I am talking about. We took a leisurely stroll around the island, oohing and aahing at the scenery, and then settled in for lunch at Ristorante Terrazza Brunella, a place that Adrienne’s friend Christina had recommended for its great food and amazing views of the sea below. She was right. We sat at a table at the edge of the balcony, suspended somewhere between the sea and the sky, with those massive lava like rocks that jut out into the sea with masculine force. Again, I was practically in tears. We ordered a few glasses of proseco to start and toast to the most beautiful place on earth, and then moved onto a bottle of Fiano de Avelino from San Gregoria, a nice light white perfect for lunch, or breakfast for that matter.
Lunch was spectacular, first because we were, by this point, drunk, and second because our waiter Bruno was quite a charming host. He recommended some house specials and we, being such hard sells, ordered them all. We shared a whole local fish that had been simply roasted with tomatoes, capers, white wine, and olive oil. Its flesh was so moist it was almost creamy. While the fish was huge and enough for three, we had to include a bowl of penne Scialatielli, tossed with hunks of soft eggplant, sweet sunny tomatoes and bright fragrant basil. We had a Caprese salad as well, which was drizzled with fresh, grassy olive oil that we sopped up with huge hunks of crusty bread. Remember, no carbs could be left behind.
That afternoon, drunk from the scenery, the bubbly and the wine, we decided to stay an extra night in Capri. We had nothing with us but the clothes we were wearing, so we made a quick stop at the Farmacia for toothpaste and some toothbrushes, and our waiter hooked us up with a little room at an affordable hotel called La Tosca (Via Dalmazio Birago 5, 081 837 0989, www.latoscahotel.com) that was just perfect. We spent the rest of the day staring at the water, shopping and drinking wine, and returned to Brunella for dinner. That night, while getting into a bottle of red (a local Aglianico) to go with a bowl of Bolognese, and another of fat ravioli stuffed with ricotta and proscuito, we sat at the same table overlooking the sea, with the village houses lit up and dotting the hillsides like fireflies. Sitting there, in dreamland, we saw a shooting star. It flew across the night sky in blazing arc punctuated by a big poof, and then it just as quickly as it was there, it was gone. It was magic. Or it was the wine. But either way, I made a wish. Even if it doesn’t come true, what a night it was.
The Strong Buzz from Italy: PART II
I hope you all enjoyed the first part of the Strong Buzz Italy. This edition covers the second part of our trip. You see, after a week in Rome, it was time for us to hit the countryside and commune with nature (read: eat truffles out in the green hills of Tuscany and Umbria). So on a Friday night around 7pm, Adrienne, Jamie, and I took a cab out to Susie’s office and piled ourselves (and all of our luggage) into Susie’s adorable (pint-sized) convertible Mini Cooper. We contorted ourselves like Cirque du Soliel performers and with our Italian autopilot turned on—destination Maremma programmed—we were off into the night.
I learned a lot of Italian after five days in the car with Sophia—the name we gave to our lovely Italian GPS autopilot. I can now give impeccable traffic directions. I can say things like “Alla rotatoria, prendere la seconda uscita,” which means “At the roundabout, take the second exit.” Very useful for a traveler in a foreign country who has no idea where she is going and probably will never be asked to give directions. But yes, I can now say, “Take the second exit on the right,” or “Make a left after the traffic circle,” or my favorite of Sophia’s phrases: “You have gone too far. Is it possible to make a U-turn, immediately?” You know what she really wanted to tell us was, “You stupid idiots! Can’t you listen to anything I tell you to do? You screwed up again. Turn the f-ing car around!” But somehow I don’t think BMW’s programmers thought their drivers would like to be spoken to in such a tone. I happen to think it would be hilarious, and all together appropriate.
Anyway, about three hours of Sophia’s directions later, we were in Maremma, but we were terribly lost. We were in the right town but were going back and forth on a long road called SP3 in search of our non-existent hotel. After a phone call (we finally broke down and asked for directions), we got there just before 11pm and had a dinner of red wine, bresaola, proscuitto, lardo, Parmesan, green salad and what seemed like loaves of bread (because it was; three of them to be exact). We ate our pork and carb dinner while dressed in our fluffy white bathrobes in the massive living room of our hotel room (see below for more on L’Andana). It was perfect. And so was our week in the countryside. Again, we adhered to the moral imperative of our trip: The No Carb Left Behind Diet (“NCLB Diet”). And with the guidance below, you too can leave no carb behind.
TUSCANY
Maremma
Trattoria Toscana
L’Andana
Localita Badiola
39 0564 944800
www.andanahotel.com
Friends and readers, words really will not do justice to L’Andana, a hotel, restaurant, spa and heavenly experience owned by Alan Ducasse and Terra Moretti. It’s a little slice of super luxurious paradise set in the middle of Maremma, a quaint little hamlet tucked in the marshy valley between Siena and Chianti. The hotel, which has been restored and renovated to palatial charm, was once the summer place of the Duke Leopold in the 16th century, is set on about 1200 acres of olive groves, vineyards and fruit orchards. Yeah, that Duke lived well; not too shabby. I took a bike ride one night and rode up and down through the rows of vines, and watched the sun dip behind the mountains, and felt like pinching myself, but I probably would have wiped out so I refrained.
The hotel has 33 rooms and the one I shared with Adrienne actually had a 20-foot Jacuzzi. I am not joking. I love Adrienne and everything but I was sort of hoping Craig could fly over for the weekend. There was even a helicopter on the hotel grounds, so I guess I could have asked them to fly to New York to get him, but I was trying not to be too high maintenance. Next time, though, I am bringing him.
The restaurant at L’Andana is from Alan Ducasse, but it is surprisingly unfussy and clearly Italian in approach. It is a contemporary yet earthy trattoria with an open kitchen filled with terra cotta dishes accented with a backsplash of blue and white tiles, and warmed with a blazing wood-fired oven. We were seated near the fire, which warmed us up from the cold. It was a brisk October night in Tuscany. The food was terrific, but what I appreciated the most about it was that it was understated and simple, and considering Ducasse is the dude in charge, it could have been quite a bit fussier. I am glad he chose a more hearty less elegant approach.
The chef, Christophe Martin, serves wonderful pastas—as if there’s such a thing as un-wonderful pasta in Italy—but these were really special. We worked our way through three of them, one of which I still cannot get off my mind—plump gnocchi so creamy and light that they seemed to vaporize in my mouth, served with diced pumpkin (someone in that kitchen has great knife skills; the dice was tiny precise brunoise), small smoky hunks of bacon, a gloss of honey and a grind of fresh black pepper. Wow. Are you getting how good that is? But the next pasta was quite spectacular as well. Martin fills hand made agnolotti with deep rich wild mushroom ragu, and plates the plump envelopes in an earthy sauce of mushrooms reduced with red wine. But there was one more, an unusual pasta that truly impressed me, a capetelli served in a cast iron pot. These little curled squiggles were cooked to just chewy enough and set in a light almost soupy ragu of braised rabbit, with wild mushrooms and fennel. It ate like a meal I might have imagined the Duke himself serving on a cold night after a long day of hunting. Just fabulous. For dinner (yes those pastas were just starters), we had a wood-oven roasted pork loin with homemade sausages (these were spectacular) and sweet soft smoky apples roasted on a spit, a buttery rosemary-rubbed lamb with eggplant caviar, and another cast iron dish, this one filled with octopus braised until tender but still meaty and with enough textural chew. It was set in a soulful red wine reduction filled out with sausages and chickpeas.
I loved L’Andana. It’s really a perfect place to go and tune out for a few days, to pamper yourself in the spa, to swim under the Tuscan sun (or in your 20 foot Jacuzzi), to sleep late, to wake to coffee on the terrace overlooking the olive trees, and to dine simply but extraordinarily well.
UMBRIA
Montefalco
Restaurant Coccorone
Largo Tempestivi
0742 379535
www.coccorone.com
This lovely hillside restaurant in Montefalco was recommended by Susie’s friend Jackie, and I want to publicly thank her for this tip. What a find. First of all, there’s the bread. Just go and drink a bottle of wine, and sit there, perhaps on the stone terrace in the sun, or inside by the wood fired hearth, and eat that bread dipped in olive oil and you won’t need more than that. The bread is baked in house and there were two types served the day we stopped in for lunch: a rustic wheat, with a strong rich crust, and wedges of light and fluffy focaccia, studded with bits of proscuito and gratineed with Parmesan on top. Hello, gorgeous. Yes, the NCLB Diet was in good hands there.
Anyway, lunch was terrific as well. We had a few bowls of pasta, one of wide flat pappardelle made in house and dressed in a mushroom ragu that tasted like the mushrooms had been plucked from the earth just moments before hitting the sauté pan, and another bowl of housemade rigatoni tossed with juicy, pulpy fresh tomatoes, and the most tender melting eggplant (no skins, just buttery flesh that was miraculously sweet). For secondi, we shared another round of Chianina and a few contorni: roasted red peppers, wood-fired baby artichokes, and an arugula salad. We tried to make sure to eat salad, as if it would counter the effects of the NCLB Diet. Not a chance, but we did it anyway. To drink, we had a Montefalco Rosso Antonelli (2003), a lighter, fruitier version of the Sagrantino, and loved it at about 20 euros a bottle. Perfeto.
Il Verziere
Via G. Mameli, 22
0742 379166
www.ringhieraumbra.com
This is a charming enotecca and wine shop, owned by an equally charming sweetheart of a guy named Max. We stopped in, got some local olive oil and a couple of bottles of the Sagrantino di Montefalco, the wonderful local wine. He’ll tell you everything about local producers, let you taste his wines and just make you fell like packing up and moving to Montefalco. Stop in and say Hi for sure.
Gubbio
La Fornace di Mastro Giorgio
Giuesseppe Rosati, owner
Via Mastro Giorgio, 2
075-922-1836
The meal we had at this exceptional restaurant in Gubbio, the most adorable, charming town in Umbria in my humble opinion, was the best meal I had in Italy. While the place has not one single Michelin star, the hospitality is exceptional, the service is top notch (with salads and pastas dressed, sauced, and tossed tableside), and the food was miraculous.
We stumbled upon the place one night and thought it looked so cute, tucked into a stone house, and popped in without a reservation. A maitre d’ ushered us inside and without as much as a blip, set us up and poured us some proseco to welcome us to the restaurant. Wow. Now that’s Italian.
The menu, as everywhere in Italy, is a handcrafted portrait inspired by the season. A lot of what I saw that morning on my run through town at the farm markets showed up at dinner that night. After an amuse bouche of fresh milky mozzarella balls, sweet-as-sugar cherry tomatoes and tiny fresh minty basil leaves, and a slim trough filled with freshly baked rolls, we started with a glorious potato and porcini tarlet, more like a tower actually, with truffles shaved over the top (of course) that truly brought tears to my eyes. Adrienne, however, actually was moved to point of ecstasy by her taglietelle, a silken mound of straw colored pasta cooked in little more than butter and truffles. On her face as she watched the pasta being twirled through butter, was the most genuine smile, like one of a child on Christmas Eve given a shiny new red bicycle. She was beaming. I was doing my own share of kvelling with my Chianina, a thinly sliced steak of local Tuscan cow, a lean and tender beast that was juicy and wildly rich and rubbed with rosemary and olive oil. It was accompanied by roasted potatoes that were amazing—steamy buttery potato flesh inside tight crunchy jackets. That night, we drank the Colllepiano Sagrantino di Montefalco (2003), which we loved. It paired up beautifully with Susie’s pork loin, so rich and moist it might as well have been filet mignon, served with glazed fresh figs, and Jamie’s umbricette, a sort of bucatini, twisted up with crumbled bits of sweet homemade sausage, crushed tomatoes and snappy French beans. Smashing.
This restaurant is a gem, matched only by the incredibly beautiful town; a collection of old stone homes scattered up in the hills connected by cobblestone streets, archways and bridges like a land that fell out of a fairytale. Please make sure you put Gubbio on your list if you are out that way.
La Madia di Guiseppe
Via Mastro Giorgio, 6
075 9221836
Located on a steep hill in Gubbio just a few hundred meters from a scenic overlook that will have you in awe of this magical little town from above, you’ll find this sweet little enoteca and panini spot that serves a local specialty called cresceria. Please, someone open a crescreia-teria here in New York. Other than that Campo di Fiore pizza, this was my favorite lunch. Cresceria, which are sort of like a refined Panini, are quite simple, as is most food in Italy really, but so good (again, as is most food in Italy). The bread is sort of a cross between focaccia and pizza dough, and it is super thin, and baked in big flat rounds punctured with holes. The rounds are sliced into wide triangular wedges like giant slices of pizza, then sliced in half and filled with your choice of stuffing (obviously dressed with olive oil) and lightly toasted on the Panini press. We had one filled with spinach and stracchino cheese, and another stuffed with local salami, but the favorite was the one made with pancetta and arugula; the salty, fatty pancetta checks out with the bitter rocket. These are awesome (and only 4 euros each). Grab a few and you can have yourself a picnic in Gubbio.
HOME AGAIN
There is nothing like traveling to another country to wake up your senses, to revive your spirit, to give you some well-needed distance from your regular life to perhaps examine it more closely, to explore the crevasses inside your world that are so easy to ignore in your day-to-day routine. There are endless chances to stop, observe, wonder, and ponder: an old couple walking hand-in-hand (they all seem to all be the same height and appearance), the curve of a winding stone street that opens to a sun-drenched piazza, the endless yards of clothes lines fluttering with towels and various unsightly underthings, the sound of a tall clock tower chiming on the hour, a bright orange sun slipping behind a length of mountains at dusk. I loved Italy and the chance it gave me to press pause and visit Susie. I miss her a lot. And pause is good. But I am so happy to be back. I missed my life here—my friends, my family, and a certain guy. Italy had many beautiful moments. But I love my city, my home, and I am so glad to be back.
And that’s THE STRONG BUZZ for this week. Next, week, more news, and reviews about our own town.