LUPA OSTERIA ROMANA.

My recent meal at Maialino really opened my eyes to the possibilities of a great bowl of pasta, especially ones birthed from Rome. Which was why I was especially excited to dine at Lupa Osteria Romana, Mario Batali's cozy Roman trattoria in the West Village. This place emanated a lively warmth and was teeming with jovial diners even on a Monday evening. Our 8pm reservation turned into a 8:15pm reservation because the previous diners at our table enjoyed themselves so much they wouldn't leave.


A plate of delicious, soft, spongy bread was whisked to our table. I don't know what this kind of bread is called (a fat focaccia is the only way I can describe it) but my eyes always light up when I see its inviting, porous depths. It absorbs oils extremely well, has an extra salty flavor, and doesn't require canine teeth to chew.


I ordered an antipasti of Brussels Sprouts with Pecorino - which the waiter claimed to be his favorite vegetable from the Verdura section of the menu. I was hoping it would be a replica of Todd English's shaved Brussels sprouts salad from Olives...unfortunately, it wasn't. The shreds reminded me more of cabbage and tasted rather bitter. Furthermore, the cold slaw did nothing to complement the cheese. If the Brussel sprouts had been warm, they may have been a bit more inviting to the fairly large crumbles of Pecorino...instead these two ingredients sat together in the bowl like oil and water.


But all of Batali's transgressions were forgotten as soon as this huge bowl of Bavette Cacio & Pepe arrived at the table. Batali's version was a lot less cheesy than the one I had tasted at Maialino - but it was still wonderful and comforting. Broken hearts and troubled thoughts simply melt away as you twirl delicious strands of bavette into a satisfying spiral around your fork. The butter/olive oil sauce decadently coated the perfectly cooked pasta and the strong flavors from grated pepper danced in the spotlight. My only problem was the puddle of oil I spotted in the bowl as I made my way near the bottom, which made it impossible for me to finish my meal (or maybe this was actually an act of God's saving grace???).


For dessert, Caramel Gelato. The was by far the strangest gelato I have ever experienced. I stuck my nose into the cup (which is something I often do, if you have never dangled food in front of my face before) and found the substance was ODORLESS. Upon letting the gelato fill your mouth, you immediately experience what my dining partner best described as "liquid caramel" - which was exactly what this was!! Caramel in a cold, less dense form. The taste did not linger and as fast as the flavor blast appeared, it also left. Truly strange but enjoyable!!

Overall, I definitely enjoyed my meal at Lupa and am glad to have dined at this West Village gem. However, I will say that having a quiet, intimate conversation with a friend can be quite difficult in this loud, somewhat rambunctious environment.