Every time I roller blade down Christopher on my way to the West Side Highway, the tables are packed at this italian eatery. Two things I noticed the first time I walked in the door: there were people eating alone, and an old-fashioned clock on the wall (stopped on 4 o'clock). We started off with the grilled calamari. The slices were big, chewy, and chock full of tasty garlic and olive oil. I didn't even need to squeeze my usual 2 slices of lemon. We also ordered a piadina of mozzarella and prosciutto which turned out to be a cross between a quesadilla and a panini. Eh, nothing special.
Feeling dangerous, we went for Polpette, veal meatballs with tomato sauce. I kid you not, my girlfriend and I devoured these savory bundles in about two minutes, and finished off the sauce with pieces of bread. Though on a diet, we thought this would be the place to get tiramisu. Fresh as could be, there were delicate hints of espresso, chocolate, and liqueur.
I might even go back there tonite.
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