The Orchard- Ápizz's Boring Younger Sister

Good flatbreads, bad entrees.
Maybe because of my intimate love affair with Ápizz, I expected her little sister to be just as good. They look alike; both having the same fiery orange lighting, but The Orchard looks more like the bottom floor of a luxury yacht (there are no windows) than a sexy lower Manhattan hotspot. The menu screamed for their flatbreads-- so we tried the steak tartare and the mushroom one. Surpringly, the latter greatly overshadowed the prime beef filet with its mouth watering herbs and mushroomy goodness. In fact, it might have been the best thing on the menu. We also tried the crispy lobster empanadas (Maine meets Miami?). The pulled lobster meat filling was wicked tasty, but the "butter leaf wrap" belonged more to a blintz than a "crispy empanada". (I should know, I'm a Jew married to a Cuban).
For $29, I got the olive-oil poached halibut with a kind of salsa on the side. I should have asked for chips with my salsa since the fish was just plain boring. We also ventured for the grilled filet mignon wraps. The meat was served in those crunchy, grasshopper color lettuce leaves (the kind the bodega puts in your sandwiches). Though boasting chimichurri pesto and spicy mayo, my dear jersey italian friend described them as "Lackluster. Unimaginative. Unimpressive"
Couldn't have said it better myself.

Malatesta Trattoria- loved it.

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.

Gnocco on Tompkins Square Park North

I'm very biased. All the Italian waitstaff kiss me on both cheeks when I walk in the door. I take everyone I like there. I even get free glasses of Prosecco. When you walk into the entrance, you're greeted by a bunch of greasy guys twirling dough. Oops, I thought this was supposed to be an Italian restaurant. But if you go to the back and make a quick left, you find a surprisingly large space for the East Village, and there's even an outdoor patio that's heated in the wintertime (as in you could wear a t-shirt). Even to sit at the bar with a glass of wine, the place is damn romantic. I always order the same things: appetizer- the burrata with olive oil and tomatoes, the cortadina salad (arugula with flaked parmesan cheese), and then the real reason I'm obsessed: the brick oven pizzas. A creature of habit, I stick to my margarita (the sublime marriage of cheese, tomato sauce and olive oil over thin crust orgasms in your mouth), but some of my other favorites are the Tartufate (mozzarella, truffle sauce, mushrooms, and spec), and the Parmigiana (mozzarella, tomato sauce, eggplant, shaved parmesan cheese and basil).
I may turn into one of those crazies who never leave the E Village because of this place.

Aroma Kitchen & Winebar- (Next to BBar)

I was really excited about this charming little winebar. I had walked by it a hundred times on my way to BBar, but never poked my head in to spy on the dishes. The owner is a woman from Malta and a guy from Italy (I assume they're a couple, though their website doesn't specify). Being the drunkies we are, the three of us shared a bottle of luscious Montepulciano. At $32, it was the cheapest bottle of red on the menu. Our wonderful Italian friend (from Jersey) recommended the gratin of gnocchi, sausage, and some other heavenly flavors that was so rich I thought I had won the lottery. On a carb kick from the gratin, the three of us shared 2 pastas. The first pasta, linguine "al cartoccio", baby clams, fennel, white wine, was admirable by Macaroni Grill standards, but for $18, I would have gotten another two glasses of Montepulciano. Our other pasta dish was bucatini "cacio, pepe e uovo", pancetta arrotolata, recommended to us by the server as having lots of mouthwatering cheese. Quoting the first of us who tried the dish, "it tastes like cat food." There was barely any cheese, so we figured it must have escaped from the pasta during the journey from kitchen to table! Or maybe, the egg swallowed it? If I ever go back, I'll just stick to a salad and maybe the sicilian meatloaf which looked good on my neighbor's plate.