Twice, I succeeded in getting a pair of seats, first at the bar and then at a table in the expansive surrounding area, which is separated from the smaller, reservation-only “dining room” by an enormous open kitchen. Twice, I was sternly informed of my time limit: ninety minutes. From there, the hospitality improved, as well it should at a place whose wine list includes a glass for ninety-eight dollars. The sting was further soothed by a selection of dishes that were, with a few notable exceptions, superb. The food is Italian-ish, but the restaurant’s theme is, more broadly, New York City, as perceived from Little Italy. This concept harkens back to Torrisi’s original, much humbler iteration down the street (open from 2009 to 2014), the first place by Rich Torrisi and Mario Carbone, who went on to create, with Jeff Zalaznick, the empire that is Major Food Group.
Salt-cured ham, half American, half Italian, sliced in translucent sheets from enormous haunches displayed near the host stand, was served with a pyramid of crisp golden zeppole—dusted with black pepper and fried rosemary, interiors steaming and custardy—and pineapple mostarda. For the grapefruit-cocktail antipasto, the jewel-like citrus was tossed with Marcona almonds, grated aged goat cheese, and mint, and covered with opaque coins of fennel. It was almost as good as the escarole-and-endive salad, strewn with paper-thin persimmon, shaggy shavings of ricotta passita (aged and herbed), and toasted pine nuts.
With the clock ticking, on my first visit I ordered pastas—including raviolini with prawns and saffron, which brought to mind, happily, wonton soup—but not entrées, unless you count a late-arriving appetizer: the Sliced Boars Head on Rye, a clever pun that fell flat, given the rubbery texture of the flavorless pig’s-head terrine, wiped from my palate, if not my memory, by a tiny paper cup of lemon sorbet.
Dining and Cooking