[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid: March 12, 2013]
As I mentioned in a recent column, one thing I was doing ten years ago was attempting to educate myself about Italian dining at all levels in New York. Andother thing I'd started doing was working my way systematically through a book of classic cocktail recipes.
That explains why the week began with me mixing up some Satan's Whiskers, a 1930 concoction of gin, sweet and dry vermouths, orange juice, Grand Marnier and orange bitters.
It also helps explain why I set off for dinner in the secluded Tudor City new Italian, L'Impero, where Scott Conant was reportedly cooking up a storm. The evening didn't get off to the best start, as I had to reject a ridiculous little round table crammed into a corner, but once properly seated, the food wasn't bad. It was helped on its way with a 1995 Brunello di Montalcino.
A mushroom fricassée over creamy polenta, with truffles and a cheese unspecificied by my diary, was a luxurious start. My pasta course was farfalle with sweetbreads. Then roast kid (cabretto) with a fine brunoise of potatoes, and peas. This was all very deftly done, but I didn't quite see why L'Impero was becoming one of the hottest seats in town.
A composed cheese plate to finish: Gorgonzola with orange, Taleggio with sweet beets, Robiola with a berry compote.
Before a home cooked dinner of côtes de porc à la bayonnaise, I revived a Leap Year, another Harry Craddock invention, this time from 1928, and featuring gin, sweet vermouth, orange liqueur and lemon juice. A '98 Rothschild Legende "R" with the pork.While haggling cordially with Argosy, the used bookstore near Bloomingdale's, over the price of a uniform set of Joseph Conrad's works missing only two volumes, I planned a journey into the realms of myth. A trip to Di Fara's, in other words, the remote and legendary storefront reputed by some to produce the best pizza in New York.
Really: times change, and the range and quality of pizza options has blossomed, but ten years ago a slice at Di Fara's was the holy grail. It was wise to undertake the quest with people who knew Dom Di Fara and his implacable rules. It snowed all the way.
We brought wines--in my case, a 1995 Hacienda Monsterio Reserva. Thanks to the weather, the place was uncharacteriscally quiet. We sat and ate: a Sicilian slice, a regular slice with fresh artichokes (each, I mean), then chicken cacciatore, spaghetti with sausage, salad and gelati.
Oh it was good pizza, no doubt about that. Did it change my life? Not so sure.
I concluded the Conrad negotiations in time for my birthday (it was a present to myself). To celebrate, it was off to Nobu--my first time there--for an omakase.
Tartare of tuna belly w/ wasabi
Scallop and fluke
Sashimi salad
Hamachi, baby greens
Black cod, miso, foie gras
Kobe beef, asparagus
Sushi
Chinese peach soprbet
Warm chocolate cake, green tea ice cream
Veuve Clicquot, Riesling, Bonny Doon Cigare Volant.
A glamorous way to mark the passing of a year. And I found the missing volumes of the Conrad set later, too.
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