[Pigging by Wilfrid: April 6, 2015]
Last weekend was really San Domenico weekend for me (and let's be honest, I always thought of it as San Domenico, even after the move to Madison Square and the name-change to SD26). It was partly a farewell--a final nostalgic dinner on Saturday, a lively party on Sunday.
But it was also a time to celebrate new horizons. Tony May, who kicked off his New York restaurant career as general manager of the Rainbow Room in 1968, is retiring only to expand his role as educator and ambassador for Italian food. His daughter Marisa--recently married and planning to divide her time between Rome, where her husband works, and New York--is already thinking about another restaurant.
And she's keeping the San Domenico name.
Counting both incarnations, San Domenico has been with us for around 27 years. I've been a fan for only the last 18. I was a regular at the Central Park South original (I lived five minutes walk away), and known to the house, long before I ever published a restaurant review. And I no longer have any objective view--I loved what they've done, as I've said before. So many personal memories--family, birthdays, anniversaries, business, and my daughter's splendid twelfth birthday dinner.
But what I will say, quite seriously, and maybe (who knows?) for the last time, is that this has been a restaurant which always--always--served dishes like baby goat, squab, rabbit, venison, whole fish boned table-side, fine cheeses and salumi, cuttlefish, baby squid and octopus, sweetbreads, salt cod, house-made pastas and risotti made with imported rice.
It remained a bastion of opulent, adult dining, besieged by the bleak legions of the ordinary (chicken or salmon, steak or duck), for whom a piece of pork belly is a revolution on a plate. How I'll miss it.
So, to table. (Okay, first a negroni at the bar.)
Pan Roasted Veal Sweetbread, Baby Turnips, Mustard Zabaione & Coffee Oil--a complimentary course, as I was having trouble chooing an appetizer.
Grilled Baby Octopus over Cicerchie Bean Puree, Rosemary & Sundried Tomato Gremolata--meaty, rich.
Veal Filled Ravioli del “Plin” Butter and Sage or In Capon Broth--not generally considered a signature dish, as the chitarra with fresh tomato sauce, or former head chef Odette Fada's soft egg in a single, large raviolo, but a personal favorite (especially showered with white truffle in season).
I was glad I chose to work my way through some wines by the glass. Seldom, I suspect, has 2005 Barolo been poured so freely.
Slow Roasted Baby Goat, Rosemary Roasted Potatoes & Braised Artichokes--including the little baby rack. I still call it "kid."
Vanilla Pannacotta, with Pomegranate Vinegar Reduction--a variation on another old personal favorite; chef Fada used to serve it with strawberries.
I had about eighteen hours to digest before returning for the final party, which became a blur of terrific wines, some served from those bottles which are bigger than magnums (no, I can't always remember which is a Methuselah and which a Jeroboam).
There were five food stations scattered about the large dining room, and in front of the open kitchen. A few highlights...
Salumi and cheese. A whole Parmigiano-Reggiano broken into chunks. That cheese rubbed with wine must. Bottomless prosciutto. Wafer-thin mortadella.
Pastas. Macaroni with beef cheek. The famous chitarra with fresh tomato sauce. Some kind of pasta and chickpea stew.
Small plates. Baby octopus with bean puree. Roast sweetbread. Braised chicken drumsticks. At least three different pizzas. Beef cheek.
Cold food. Burrata, tomatoes. Big eye tuna carpaccio, spinosini pasta salad, chives, American caviar and lemon Zest.
Meats. Cold porchetta thin sliced over bread. Meatballs. Tripe and chickpea stew. Amazing home-made cotechino.
That's not a complete list. And they brought out desserts later, and a splendid celebratory cake.
Thank you Tony and Marisa, from me and my loved ones, until we meet again.
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