I've heard rumors of Arthur Avenue ... tales of Little Italy days gone by. It's where all the "real" Italian restaurants and shops moved to after staying in Little Italy no longer became feasible.
Yesterday, after the Yankee game, we decided to head north instead of back to Manhattan to explore rumors of this area (she knew more than I did, though that's not even the slightest bit unusual) and all the food goodness it purported to contain.
And I'm in love with the whole area. We walked up and down the Italian flag-draped streets, stopped in shops, ate salty mozzarella* ** on some of the best bread I've ever tasted and when it came time to actually get some food, Mario's was the place we were suggested to visit.
Now, I admit we got there at 4:30, which is not usually the prime time for dinner unless you're my Nana and it's winter in Boca. That said, the interior gave me the distinct feeling that 4:30 p.m. dinners were exactly their specialty.
If you're at all like me, dinner with your grandparents in Florida was something you grew up experiencing, and all the Italian restaurants down there look exactly like Mario's. Long rows of two and four-tops along one long bench, with chairs in the middle. Over-the-top chandeliers that don't really give off that much light. And taupe. A lot of taupe.
After checking my coat (appears to be something they heavily "suggest" so bring a few bucks to tip the coat person), our waiter took our order, and since we had been eating the aforementioned muzzurellu-and-bread, we opted for one dish to split, along with a bottle of wine. "Gnocchi" we said. "What kind of sauce?" he replied.
Now, that's a fair question. My lovely dining companion suggested she'd had something other than marinara there before, and as the waiter suggested spinach gnocchi, which is apparently not on the menu, she exclaimed 'Yes!'*** and we decided on that. Our waiter informed us that it might be a little heavy, because of the ladle-fulls of alfredo sauce in it, we considered the possibility, and then said "let's get it anyway, it's an adventure"****.
He left, and returned by thudding the bottle of wine on the table. Now, I'm industrious and quite able to open a bottle of wine on my own, but this seemed a little odd to me. Was it a screwtop? Is there a new way of serving wine to bubbes that allows them to pour their own and avoid a corkage fee? So I started to try and open it, much to the shock and horror of the person seated across from me. Apparently he just left us the bottle to peruse until he came back with glasses and opened it for us. Silly me.
It was tasty, though.
So we sit and nosh on the bread (also crackalicious) and the food comes out in a super-hurry. Excpet the gnocchi is red, and not white. Since last I checked, alfredo's not red, we inquired as to why we had received this one instead of the one we ordered. Our waiter replied that we had thought the other two heavy, and this was the one we had requested.
It was still good (I didn't think it was anything special), but we had a good time in an authentic Italian restaurant. I reserve the right to upgrade my star rating on this place if (when) I go back, hopefully closer to dinner time and with the strict understanding that I won't try to open my own wine bottle.
* - Apparently, when you're really Italian, there are like 85 'u's in there. Muzurellu. Ok, maybe just three. But there were more u's than I was used to.
** - Also? Crackilicious.
*** - Not like Meg Ryan. This isn't Katz's, after all.
**** - There are no calories on adventures. read more