al di la Trattoria

After many, many job applications, long periods of deep, dark silence, a handful of responses, some inspiring networking and meetings, challenging interviews, and finally an offer from the loveliest people working at a soup-er (sorry) wonderful company, we had some relieved 'I found a new job!' celebrating to do. Our initial idea was to follow our normal celebratory routine and head down the block to Rucola, but this excuse for fancier-than-normal meal out seemed too good to not pay a visit to al di la Trattoria, which has been sitting on my list of restaurants to visit for quite a while.

We walked up through Park Slope, planning, discussing, and jumping with excitement about my future life, until we reached the warm, cozy, vaguely disheveled (in a beautiful, European, curated way) restaurant. The specials were recited to us by our quietly charming waiter while we sipped on satisfyingly sizable glasses of Prosecco.

al di la was filled with a refreshing mixture of people. From local Park Slope families, to a very small birthday celebration, to one man sitting alone, quickly slurping through his giant plate of spaghetti, to couples young and old, to joyful groups of friends, everyone from all over the neighborhood was here with the joint mission of seek out some comforting Italian food, perhaps a glass (or two) of wine, and a couple of hours away from home.

We began with a grilled sardine (B is currently obsessed thanks to this tinned sardine experience in the summer) served on some fresh arugula, and a citrusy cavolo nero salad filled with giant croutons, huge shavings of Parmigiano, and a salty anchovy vinaigrette.

After being told we were over-ordering when we initially asked for two pastas, we reeled our pasta-obsession in to have only the tortelli di zucca. I love tortelli di zucca. If I could just eat one dinner for the whole of autumn, it would be this. Delicate parcels of pasta had been filled with sweet pumpkin and creamy mascarpone, and topped with crispy sage and grated parmesan. Pasta is the best.

But we weren't done yet. Next was the day's special which was genuinely all of B's favorite things on one plate. Creamy polenta formed the base, a glazed pork chop sat on top, and buttery Brussels sprouts, more Parmigiano, and a sprinkling of parsley were scattered over the whole plate. It was rich, fatty, salty, crispy here, super soft there, and a perfect example of how polenta really can be wonderful if it's made with enough butter and cheese.

We skipped on dessert (there was still funfetti cake at home), finished off the last few sips of Primitivo, and meandered home through the friendly streets of Park Slope.

al di la Trattoria, 248 5th Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11215

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Padella

Since we left London last August, we've been keeping tabs on all the new food-related openings, which restaurants have rave reviews, which ones have lines round the block, and which have apparently been a disappointment. With just 3 short days in London town on our first trip back, there was a lot of eating which needed to happen: Discovering the new, and returning to our old favorites. After a breakfast of pancakes at Pavilion Café, a walk from Islington down to Borough, and a coffee stop at Monmouth, we joined the surprisingly short queue (based on the horror stories we'd heard previously) outside Padella.

A brief ten minutes later, we were seated at a table outside. The staff, in typical Italian fashion, rather brusquely threw down menus, poured us some water, and left us arguing over whether we should have pappardelle or ravioli. 

We started with a crunchy salad of radicchio, watercress, and rocket, which was perfectly dressed with a citrus-y vinaigrette and dotted with fresh mint leaves to help balance out those bitter red leaves. We needed some vegetables to be added to our carb-heavy day, and this was the tastiest, most refreshing way to consume them.

Tagliatelle with nduja, mascarpone, and parsley was spicy, sweet, and creamy, but not too much of any of those things. The pasta was as wonderful as you'd expect it to be when you know that this restaurant comes from the team behind Trullo in Highbury: Not at all claggy and wonderfully al dente.

But I have no doubt in my mind that the real star of the show, and perhaps our whole trip was the ricotta ravioli with sage butter. As all of you loyal readers will know, ravioli really is my desert island dish. When I'm served a plate of these pasta parcels stuffed full of what is (obviously) one of my favorite ingredients – ricotta – and doused in fragrant, lightly perfumed, almost nutty butter, I am quite possibly (momentarily at least) the happiest girl on the planet. When I remember that this plate of gluten and cheese only cost me £7, you're going to struggle to prevent me from talking about it non-stop for the next six months.

Padella, 6 Southwark Street, London, SE1 1TQ

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Santina

I think I've found the happiest place in New York. Sadly, it comes at quite a cost, so I'll have to stick to spending time in the second happiest place in New York – Ample Hills – until I can afford to visit Santina regularly.

Santina sits in a glass cube underneath the Highline. In summer its side doors are flung upon and the restaurant spills out onto the cobbled streets and wide sidewalks. In winter, it looks like a tropical island which has landed from outer space in the middle of Antarctica. 

We visited this coastal-Italy-meets-Hawaii restaurant for the first time last Saturday. Between the two of us we had multiple reasons to celebrate, plus the sun was shining, and I was jumping up and down with excitement about drinking my cocktail out of a pineapple. The moment we walked into Santina and were greeted by the hostess in a white pleated mini skirt and pink polo shirt, who stood underneath a colorful, floral chandelier, and bopped to the Italian music playing loudly throughout the airy room. 

We were led to our little table, set up with the most beautiful, brightly colored, hand-painted, terra-cotta plates. While our cocktails were being shaken up at the bar, and a warm, gentle breeze blew in from the streets, we both decided that this was the perfect choice for our celebratory evening.

Cocktails soon arrived: Punch (because that's the one that comes in the pineapple) for me, and the Amalfi Gold for B (bourbon, orange, ginger, and peach). Both filled with plenty of ice, and balanced pertly on the right side of not-overly-sweet. We sipped and sipped, admired the chickpea pancakes our neighbors were feasting on, and decided that we'd quite like to move in here, pretty please.

Thankfully, the food didn't then go on to disappoint. We worked our way through salads of arugula and fig, the most stunning thinly sliced squash dotted with honey agrodolce, crisp sage, and crème fraîche, and a bitter caper and radicchio salad served over the top of melting tuna carpaccio. After we'd eaten all these beautiful (and, may I add, rather healthy) vegetables, we moved on to the most delicate, vivid ricotta tortellini (yes, I know, I am that predictable), and the sticky, smoky guajillo chicken with eggplant yogurt. 

Sadly, they were no cannoli left – I guess it's important that we leave something to come back for. As a result, we ended our evening at the second happiest place in New York, which is, as I said, Ample Hills. It's therefore no surprise that this turned out to be one of the happiest evenings we've had in this never-sleeping, ever exhausting, often challenging city.

Santina, 820 Washington Street, New York, NY 10014

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Via Carota

B and I have officially survived our first year of married life. To say that it had been a whirlwind would honestly be an understatement. We’re hoping that the next 365 days together will be slightly more stable and calm than the first 366. Let's try not to suddenly move across the world, get through 3 jobs, and build any Ikea furniture in the forthcoming year. To celebrate our marital achievement, we treated ourselves to dinner at Via Carota.

Via Carota made its way on to Pete Wells' list of the best restaurants of 2015. On this list he described it as where he sends people 'to get unfussy, delicious food in the West Village'. We'd also heard good things about the pasta and the Negroni. We needed no other reason to choose this is as our anniversary date spot. 

Early on a Tuesday evening, the majority of the tightly-packed tables in the windows are already taken. We take the remaining empty one, and sit bolt upright on the Welsh (yes, really, Welsh) chapel chairs, which conveniently have the menus tucked in to the back - where the bible would have been in their first life - for easy, and constant access.

The light pours in through the huge windows, severe light fittings hang from the ceiling,  and the plain wooden tables contrast with the smart marble bar, behind which sits endless bottles of amaro, and a blackboard listing several classic Italian cocktails. A classic Negroni and a Negroni Sbagliato (like the classic, but with  Prosecco where there would be gin) were ordered, and were sipped alongside chewy, airy sourdough, doused in zingy extra-virgin olive oil.

Burrata with dandelion greens, anchovies, and sundried tomatoes got those taste buds buzzing. It didn't look like much, but the burrata exploded with a creamy interior, which stood up powerfully to the salty mush of anchovies and the sweet tomatoes.

Vegetables feature heavily on Via Carota's menu. With no less than 15 different vegetable-focused options, we tried not let ourselves get overwhelmed by all the choice. We settled on kale doused in crunchy croutons of lardo, which took only seconds to devour: If you want to feel like you're eating your greens, but actually just want to eat salami, this is the way to enjoy them. A more delicate grilled polenta with ramps and bacon arrived at the same time, and we vowed to cook and eat more polenta in the upcoming months. This could well be the best ramps dish of the year so far. And that's a competitive award to win.

We then shared mushroom tortelli and coniglio fritto, aka fried rabbit. The tortelli were wonderfully simple. The lack of focus on presentation was authentically Italian - no garnishes, no extra colors, no smears of purée to be found here. Instead all the attention and care has gone into perfecting the pasta. This is the most comforting, heart-warming dish . Exactly what everyone needs on a rainy weekday. The rabbit was served similarly simply, on top of a fried piece of bread. A crispy, crunchy exterior revealed juicy, intensely flavored rabbit meat inside. My younger self would not have been happy that I had opted to celebrate my anniversary by eating Thumper, but my older, greedier self, was pleased with this  tasty decision.

We finished our glass of Chianti and eventually sacrificed our table to the ever-growing line of hungry people in desperate need of a creamy bowl of mushroom tortelli.

Via Carota, 51 Grove Street, New York, NY 10014

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Barbuto

Towards the end of two weeks of non-stop eating, drinking, walking and raining that made up the Christmas period, we had one last dinner reservation left. Just as dusk arrived, we reached the end of the Highline, stopped off for a drink with a view, and then headed to Barbuto.

Fairy lights were strewn round the glass exterior of this stark garage-like room, which is almost utilitarian with its white-painted brick walls, open kitchen, long, tiled bar, and many, many simple chairs and tables squeezed into the airy space. 6pm on a Wednesday evening in the midst of the holidays, and it was already packed, the room echoing with happy, chatty voices.

With a cold, crisp Soave wine poured and glasses clinked, we fought over the polpetta farcita, and the classic New York starter of a kale salad. This insalata di cavolo was one of the best we've eaten in the city - lightly dressed with pecorino, breadcrumbs and anchovy, the shredded leaves were salty, light and crunchy.

We'd read the rave reviews about the chicken, so obviously a huge bowlful of juicy, butter roasted chicken and salsa verde followed. I can't resist gnocchi or squash (especially not when the two are combined) on any menu, so gnocchi with delicata squash and pumpkin seeds was mine all mine. The candied pumpkin seeds added sweetness and bite, the gnocchi were slightly crisp and fluffy, and slices of squash scattered in between made for a very pretty plate. The boys also devoured the braised goat, which I have on report was very, very rich (not that that stopped every last scrap being eaten), and a simple, but very beautiful plate of wild striped bass was another popular dish from our hungry party. 

Despite all this fabulous food, the highlight was the potatoes. Although, now I remember that the sprouts were wonderful too. But the potatoes really won: unbelievably crisp, doused in pecorino and rosemary, and piled high, high, high. I don't really want to eat another potato which isn't an exact replica of these, ever again.

Barbuto, 775 Washington Street, New York, NY 10014

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