HalfMoon Over Manhattan - Mezzaluna NYC8/8/2016 Half-Moon Over Manhattan - Vintage Insatiable ...

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8/8/2016 Half-Moon Over Manhattan - Vintage Insatiable http://insatiable-critic.com/Article.aspx?ID=1516&keyword=Half-Moon%20Over%20Manhattan&AspxAutoDetectCookieSupport=1 1/3 About Gael Appearances BITE: My Journal Ask Gael NYMag Articles Favorites Travel Vintage Articles Recipes Photos October 8, 1984 | Vintage Insatiable HalfMoon Over Manhattan There I was baking my brains on the beach in one of the les chic Hamptons, when the first word reached me: Mezzaluna. Sharper than the sand fly’s sting came the communiqués from Western civilization: Mezzaluna. So even before I joined the farfrom humble standees, chattering, ticking, and kisskissing to speed the 45minute wait, I knew. Mezzaluna is the restaurant of the moment. Not “season”. Not “year”. I can safely track only “moment,” because the way fame strokes in this town, with half a dozen ambitious new eateries poised to open and vie for our favor, each one may be a star for fifteen minutes. Only the legends will survive the New Year. And what a glorious baptism for Mezzaluna. Sleek Italian sweetmeats sip peachblushed champagne Bellinis, stretching and striding like the tawny lionesses they are. The belle donne are in Attenzione twosomes. Flighty Eurotwerps and their glorious muses, with great manes of jet black or the latest in little boy shearings, line up behind, and after them wait the pale, wellbehaved Wasp affluents of the neighborhood and the lively tagtails that necessarily followand are already there. Why Mezzaluna? It is winsome. It is charming. It is clever. And modishly noisy. The menu offers no entrees, just antipasti (mostly salads), the paperthin raw beef carpaccio with varying adornments, pasta, and pizzatrattoria fare with nuova cucina expletives, fast food (alas, at slow prices), sometimes wonderful, too often curiously bland. It is adorable. And enchantingly Italian. It looks as if millions of lire have gone into dolling up the tiny space. Tables are topped with marble the peach and green of a salmonspinach terrine. Ginori manufactures the handsome china. Fluffy white clouds float on the skyblue ceiling. Handsome artifacts and twenty teas in redpainted English tea tins are stored in the sixteenthcentury sideboard. The cunning blueglassinsilver filigree salt shakers and the pottery ashtrays look ripe for lightfingered collectors. And almost everything wears the house logo, for “Mezzalauna” not only means “halfmoon,” it also refers to a twohandled crescentshaped chopping tool the dual meanings that 72 Florentine artists were asked to interpret. Their work makes a mosaic on one wall and entitles the artists to dine, on the house, when they hit New York. So never mind the cramped quarters. Never mind that you dare not exhale (the back of your chair is kissing the back of the chair behind, your knees are caressing the knees across the way, and if anyone shifts, he will go over the ledge). Never mind the literally dashing service. Dash, drop a plate, dash. Isn’t that what makes Mezzaluna so authentic? If the waiters in their long blueandwhitestriped aprons and the blueandwhite shirt sleeves were any more charming, there would be a queue to take them home at closing. Ours tonight has such a winning smile it’s difficult to pay attention to the specials of the day. The news is that we can’t order pizza till after 10:30 P.M. (or at lunchtime). It seems the house was losing money on bellezze (Beautiful People, Italian style) who sat for hours over pizza and a glass of wine. So, if you’re hungry, it’s a cinch to drop $35 or $40 per person for food and drink, tax and tip incluso, the wine from a highly original, not unreasonable, list but watch out for the bubbly Pellegrino water at $5 the big bottle. Friends who stopped by early on and nibbled a pasta and carpaccio with their wine and paid $35 for two confessed that they headed directly up the street to Harper for two hamburgers: “We were starved.” But from the clamor of the growing claque here, it would seem that few mind dropping $9 for a pizza the size of a dinner plate or $10 for what would be a half a portion of pasta almost anywhere else. Cara mia, don’t you want to know what we’ll be wearing come autumn? With theater like this, let’s not quibble about pennies. We can even conquer the obligatory lineup torture by dispatching a Insatiable, The Book

Transcript of HalfMoon Over Manhattan - Mezzaluna NYC8/8/2016 Half-Moon Over Manhattan - Vintage Insatiable ...

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    About Gael Appearances BITE: My Journal Ask Gael NYMag Articles Favorites Travel Vintage Articles RecipesPhotos

    October 8, 1984 | Vintage Insatiable

    HalfMoon Over Manhattan        There I was baking my brains on the beach in one of the les chic Hamptons, when the first wordreached me: Mezzaluna. Sharper than the sand fly’s sting came the communiqués from Westerncivilization: Mezzaluna. So even before I joined the farfrom humble standees, chattering, ticking, andkisskissing to speed the 45minute wait, I knew. Mezzaluna is the restaurant of the moment. Not“season”. Not “year”. I can safely track only “moment,” because the way fame strokes in this town, withhalf a dozen ambitious new eateries poised to open and vie for our favor, each one may be a star forfifteen minutes. Only the legends will survive the New Year.

            And what a glorious baptism for Mezzaluna. Sleek Italian sweetmeats sip peachblushedchampagne Bellinis, stretching and striding like the tawny lionesses they are. The belle donne are inAttenzione twosomes. Flighty Eurotwerps and their glorious muses, with great manes of jet black or thelatest in little boy shearings, line up behind, and after them wait the pale, wellbehaved Wasp affluentsof the neighborhood and the lively tagtails that necessarily followand are already there.            Why Mezzaluna? It is winsome. It is charming. It is clever. And modishly noisy. The menu offersno entrees, just antipasti (mostly salads), the paperthin raw beef carpaccio with varying adornments,pasta, and pizzatrattoria fare with nuova cucina expletives, fast food (alas, at slow prices), sometimeswonderful, too often curiously bland.

            It is adorable. And enchantingly Italian. It looks as if millions of lire have gone into dolling up thetiny space. Tables are topped with marble the peach and green of a salmonspinach terrine. Ginorimanufactures the handsome china. Fluffy white clouds float on the skyblue ceiling. Handsome artifactsand twenty teas in redpainted English tea tins are stored in the sixteenthcentury sideboard. Thecunning blueglassinsilver filigree salt shakers and the pottery ashtrays look ripe for lightfingeredcollectors. And almost everything wears the house logo, for “Mezzalauna” not only means “halfmoon,”it also refers to a twohandled crescentshaped chopping tool  the dual meanings that 72 Florentineartists were asked to interpret. Their work makes a mosaic on one wall and entitles the artists to dine, onthe house, when they hit New York.

            So never mind the cramped quarters. Never mind that you dare not exhale (the back of your chair iskissing the back of the chair behind, your knees are caressing the knees across the way, and if anyoneshifts, he will go over the ledge). Never mind the literally dashing service. Dash, drop a plate, dash. Isn’tthat what makes Mezzaluna so authentic? If the waiters in their long blueandwhitestriped aprons andthe blueandwhite shirt  sleeves were any more charming, there would be a queue to take them homeat closing. 

            Ours tonight has such a winning smile it’s difficult to pay attention to the specials of the day. Thenews is that we can’t order pizza till after 10:30 P.M. (or at lunchtime). It seems the house was losingmoney on bellezze (Beautiful People, Italian style) who sat for hours over pizza and a glass of wine. So,if you’re hungry, it’s a cinch to drop $35 or $40 per person for food and drink, tax and tip incluso, thewine from a highly original, not unreasonable, list  but watch out for the bubbly Pellegrino water at $5the big bottle.

            Friends who stopped by early on and nibbled a pasta and carpaccio with their wine and paid $35for two confessed that they headed directly up the street to Harper for two hamburgers: “We werestarved.” But from the clamor of the growing claque here, it would seem that few mind dropping $9 fora pizza the size of a dinner plate or $10 for what would be a half a portion of pasta almost anywhereelse. Cara mia, don’t you want to know what we’ll be wearing come autumn? With theater like this,let’s not quibble about pennies. We can even conquer the obligatory lineup torture by dispatching a

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    chum addicted to peoplewatching  or a professional linestander  to list our name for a table until weamble in after the movie.            And the food can be splendid. Panzarotti as a daily special  plump ricottaandspinach  filledpillows of pasta in a sagetouched butter  are sublime, and spaghetti sparkles with bottarga, sundriedtuna roe tossed with poussepieds, a briny green grown in salt marshes (another daily offering). Zestilysauced bresaola della Valtellina, aircured dried beef, rides a cushion of pungent greens. Carpaccio maybe mated with arugula, and Parmesan, with crisp radicchio and Romano, with tomato, basil, and onions,with rather bland herbs, even (rather effectively) with thin slices of avocado. Saltato on padella, quicksautéed thins of beef, are tomatotangy with olive, and oregano. But the grilled scottato with Fontina iswimpily bland.

            A good dousing with salt and the house’s fine Tuscan oil helps. In fact, several antipasti needdoctoring  salt, lemon, splashes of oil  the exquisite tiny mozzarella balls (which split open to reveala cherry tomato at the heart), for one, and the insalata Mezzaluna (thins of raw artichoke, celery,mushroom, and cheese), for another.

            Pastas are scantily sauced in the Italian style. If you’re counting on the noodles lush and heartilycrowned, forget it. Just three shrimp and half a dozen leaves of radicchio grace the lightly creamedtagliolini. A modest mince of porcini mushrooms flavors the wide papparadelle noodles. Pennewarming cold tomato, basil, and mozzarella may be elegant as long as the great tomatoes of the summerlast. The green lasagna of the day  one time layered with Bolognese sauce, another time rich andcreamy, with ricotta and a very tame pesto  might seem but a cheekful for a growing man. I alwayswondered why New York’s Italian restaurants rarely attempted squashfilled tortellini. The gluey textureof these plump little dumplings di zucca in a thick tomato cream may explain all.            Stop by for lunch. There is no one except our trio at 12:30 one recent Friday, and this day the housenever fills, though I spy assorted foodworld stars exploring the menu. On a slightly busier day,Mezzaluna seems unprepared for the noontime crowd: Waiters dash and forget and disappear. A quarterof the employees clusters at the bar, oblivious to the chaos. And the small woodburning pizza ovenblazes, turning out pies that are unpleasantly scorched  an impossible salty pesto, a bizarre pizza of theday: fresh pineapple, prosciutto, tomato, and mozzarella. Is there a cook in the kitchen or a poetdreamer? Surely no one actually tasted this mess before offering it. Pizza with four cheeses, or witheggplant and olives  even pizza primavera  is definitely safer, infinitely tastier.            Best of the desserts: raspberries in orange juice. Strawberries in a puddle of balsamic vinegar are asophisticated option. I couldn’t detect champagne in the fresh fruit. And the sorbets (“made withoutsugar,” our waiter boasts) are dry and grainy, no fun at all, not even the grapefruit with pinkpeppercorns.

            Even if you’re madly in love with Italy and Italians, you may not choose to endure the din and predining detention here. But if you need to be where it’s happening…if you are amused watching thegolden urchins at play…if you want the taste of Milan—the classic, the outrageous, and the silly dazzlingly witty Mezzaluna lights the horizon.



    Mezzaluna, 1295 Third Avenue, between 74th and 75th street 212 535 9600.

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