Staying at M’s dad’s place (he’s in India). Indulging in away-from-home treats like HBO On Demand & Otto delivery in bed.
Dinner last night at Otto with M. and his dad. A Mario Batalli joint is probably not the first place you think of for vegetarian cuisine but it’s actually got one of the biggest and most delicious selections in the city. The S.’s have been regulars since it opened.
Last night M. brought home Gorgonzola gelato. I tasted it and remain unconvinced. The zabaglione, on the other hand….
The Black & White: chocolate chip gelato, hazelnut brittle, creme fraiche gelato, chocolate sauce & caramel cream. It’s alright … I mean, if you’re into that kind of thing.
1996. Magnifico. (At Otto.)
We were there with Dr. S. (M.’s dad), who is vegetarian. Otto might not be your first thought for vegetarian cuisine but it’s got tons of options, and it’s long been one of his neighborhood haunts.
We had the special Monday night bruschetta: eggplant with chili and mint. It’s Dr. S.’s favorite (he had an order all to himself; M. and I split the other) and it’s almost Indian in its balance of heat and spice, as many of Batali’s dishes are.
Dr. S. told me that one of his nieces came to visit. It was a Monday. She is part of a particular Hindu sect that fasts on Mondays. But Dr. S. insisted: she just had to try the eggplant bruschetta.
“Why don’t you eat today and then fast for two days when you get home?”
She relented. The bruschetta really is that good.
By the way — fasting for one day once a week sounds like an incredibly effective (and doable) long-term weight control plan. Perhaps something to try when I’m older and no longer have a 29-year-old’s metabolism…. (You burn about 100 calories less every day for every decade you are alive. It’s brutal.)
The other night when I was gchatting with Mandie she asked me if I’d eaten anywhere good lately and I said, yeah, just this evening at Otto, one of Mario Batali’s places — truffle pizza, etc.
I am so over truffles, she replied.
Ok then.
I’ll let Mario know.
;)
PS: Also of note was the pasta with English peas, mint and parsley pesto, and ricotta salata. Summer in a dish!
The bartender at Otto didn’t tell us that the special Alba truffle pizza with guanciale and bufala mozzarella was 86’d ‘til after we ordered it (“truffle season is OVER!” he cried, like it happened an hour ago, which in a way it had). That just seemed unnecessarily cruel. But at least there was this little guy to cheer me up … and tasty Brussels sprouts sticky with a balsamic reduction, delicate funghi mixti, and a fennel pizza that didn’t chase away dreams of truffles but more than satisfied.
PS: The bar is the best spot in the house, perfect for two. Nearly two years ago we began one of our first, so-romantic-I-could-burst dates there and it’ll always hold a special place in my stomach heart.
PPS: Last year.
Yesterday evening we got back to the city after a gastronomic/aquatic tour of the greater New York metro area — Blue Hill at Stone Barns (twice, sorta) and a pool in Westchester; farm-stand produce, fresh fish, and a rocky beach on the North Fork and Shelter Island.
After unloading all of our tomatoes, berries, cucumbers, and other farm-fresh goodies, and watering our poor plants (who did admirably in the heatwave, I must say), I skidaddled to Otto for a cold dinner of cold air-conditioning and cold salads and cold rosé with my mom’s best friend Alma (who is very warm).
Heading home to the East Village through Washington Square Park, I paused to smile at the kids in the fountain. How can you not?
And another question: are you ready for food porn spam (with a fat dose of sunny scenery on the side)? ‘Cause you better get ready! :)
Otto’s gelato is just amazing (not as good as Capogiro, but that stands in a class by itself). We had olive oil (my all-time fave), ricotta, and salted peanut. Ricotta reminded me of Otto’s crème fraiche flavor — a variation, really, on sweet cream, and though bland, it’s a welcome counterpoint to the saltiness of the other flavors.
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