Straight up, if you and I don’t see eye to eye on Westville then we need to end this relationship immediately. Like, now. And I don’t think we can “just be friends” either. My go to of all go tos, I literally eat here or get delivery three times a week. It’s permanently entrenched in my weekly routine and I don’t know what I’d do without it. It’s worth the 15 minute wait during prime time and they usually deliver within 20 minutes (granted, I live around the corner … but still). Westville is the ultimate utility spot that delivers the goods for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and does it in affordable fashion. It’s not necessarily cheap, but it won’t break the bank and you get top quality plus respectable quantity that’s sure to fill you up. Let’s talk food, shall we? I’ve pretty much eaten everything on this menu twice, so this could be long …
I have to admit, when I walked up to Scarpetta (which sits on the 14th Street border of the Meatpacking District) late on a Saturday evening, part of me expected to see an H2 limo pull up and let out a gaggle of women having “like the best night ever on Stacey’s 34th birthday!” Luckily, that was not the case. For now, the tasteful and dim lit room is calm and relatively untouched by Meatpacking District sprawl. I say “for now” because rave reviews, proximity to the Gansevoort, and the chill out lounge beats pumping through the speakers will soon draw in Stacey and her wobbly heeled friends. Regardless, Scarpetta fully lives up to all the recent hype. The food is absolutely incredible, and I was blown away by how simple and well executed everything was. Truffles and foie gras make appearances, yet don’t come off the slightest bit heavy handed. I was never a fan of sweetbreads, but Scarpetta might have changed my opinion after having them in the excellent farfalle dish. The spaghetti is just that, spaghetti in tomato sauce with basil – incredibly simple and somehow the star of the menu. I will deduct points for the electronic elevator music, but otherwise Scarpetta is about as good as it gets.
Fanelli Cafe is one of those New York City gems still standing from a time when horse and buggies were bringing people there to drink. The space has been there since the mid nineteenth century, and they proudly hang their salon licenses in the back, mementos from an era long before Soho filled with European models and Midwestern tourists. The menu at Fanelli’s is essentially bar food, but it’s quality stuff. You won’t find frozen death disc hamburgers in this kitchen. The standouts are the chicken club sandwich, the steak sandwich, and the burger. Don’t expect the staff to be friendly, or for that matter, to give a damn that you have been waiting for your check for twenty minutes. Embrace the atmosphere, drink a Stella from the tap, and imagine that you’re about to head off for a sweet vacation aboard the Titanic.
Believe it or not, it’s possible for Immaculate Infatuation to love a place even when the food isn’t the main attraction. It’s rare, but it’s possible, and Esperanto is the perfect example. A local Infatuation mainstay, Esperanto’s got that little something special that keeps it in heavy rotation despite average food. It’s consistently packed with people looking to hang out and have a good time. The vibe is contagious, especially after a couple six dollar Caipiroskas (vodka, lime, sugar) to the dome. Going out on the town on a Friday or Saturday night? Esperanto is the perfect choice for your pre-game food and drink, especially when it’s nice out, with the windows open and the outdoors in full effect. The price is right too; all entrees are under twenty dollars. Just beware, there’s almost always a wait during primetime but they move pretty fast. Big group? Make a reservation.
There are a lot of haters out there these days who claim Nobu sold out by opening a 57th St. Midtown outpost. They say Nobu is old news, that it’s not as good as it once was, that the service isn’t amazing, and that it’s way overpriced. Don’t be fooled people. I say the naysayers are just pissed because they lost their jobs and are poorly channeling their life’s frustrations. Hands down, Nobu is the best upscale Japanese restaurant in New York City, and Immaculate Infatuation will back that statement until another restaurant as ridiculous as Nobu proves otherwise.
Infatuation’s recent trip to the royal fish house reaffirms our belief that Nobu is still the cream of the crop. Now, unless you’re with someone who really understands the menu and can place a proper fish order, the different priced tiers of the omakase (chef’s choice) tasting menu are the way to go. As I’m sure you know, Nobu isn’t cheap, so unless you’re rolling in dough, it’s a place saved for special occasions. Just promise us that when those occasions arise, you make the most of your trip. So, don’t go on the cheap and only order a couple dishes. Rather, go big or go home! Do yourself a favor and experience the full spectrum of what Nobu is all about, because you’re probably not going to be back for a while.
Giveaway: Dinner On Us
