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.
I’ve got some kind of crazy karma going with ápizz. Every time I go, it’s amazing. The perfect table seems to magically appear without reservations and the food is always spot on. On top of that, there is an X factor that exists within the walls of ápizz that can take an average night and turn it into the start of something memorable, perhaps even legendary. The staff is friendly and if you have to wait, there’s a small bar area away from the tables to hang out. It’s not a raucous place, but for an intimate setting there’s definitely a tangible vibe that’s positive and humming with satisfaction. If you’re making a reservation for 4-6, definitely ask about getting one of the two downstairs tables.
ápizz is the kind of place that you have to know about to go to, mostly due to the fact that it’s hidden on a residential block west of Ludlow’s overcrowded and oversaturated LES headquarters. There ápizz sits patiently, hangin’ out by itself on Eldridge, waiting for your discovery.
Since people have been bitching that we don’t get uptown enough, we turned to the Infatuation street team to suggest a local UES favorite. Ears popping, noses bleeding, we survived the trip to the north face and even lived to write about it.
An import from Nantucket, Sfoglia is one of the few upper east side joints that, if transported to any other part of reality (below 14th st), wouldn’t feel out of place. The front room feels like you’ve walked into an Italian market with shelves of food and baskets of produce greeting you in the entry way. Mis-matched vintage tables, stone walls and an array of assorted furniture bring a homey vibe to the front room. The back room is bigger and brighter, but still sports that same charm that makes you feel at ease the moment you enter Sfoglia. You can just sense that you are in for some good Italian cooking. A word to the wise, lean heavily on the pasta when ordering, that’s what separates them from the pack.
Frank Prisinazo (Frank, Lil’ Frankies) pretty much has a monopoly over the Italian game in the East Village. Supper, his slightly more upscale Italian institution, has been mobbed since the day it opened. They don’t take reservations, but they do have a nice wine bar next door to hang at while you wait. For a cash only operation (both the restaurant and wine bar), the wine list is steep. It’s surprising that there aren’t more two- digit options. The food menu however, is packed with well executed, moderately priced Italian favorites in addition to the always changing specials (the reason we keep coming back). The seats outside on the sidewalk are nice, but we prefer this dimly lit spaghetti haunt on a freezing cold night the when oven in the middle of the room is keeping everyone warm.
Ruby’s reminds me of college for some reason. You know the on-campus snack bar that only took cash or bonus bucks, a half step up from the dining hall? That’s what the food here brings back fond memories of. It isn’t winning any culinary awards anytime soon, but their simple salad, pasta and sandwich concoctions will strike a chord with your taste buds.
This tiny Australian spot might have the smallest kitchen in Manhattan. It’s so small you almost have to wonder if all the food is actually being prepared back there. The dining area is equally as cozy, with three communal tables squeezed into a space that fits max 15 people. When one person needs to get up, everybody’s gettin’ up.
Giveaway: Dinner On Us
