I don’t like trendy restaurants. I’m not saying that in the way people do when they’re too trendy for trendy restaurants. I’m saying that in the way of people who love food and love restauranteurs and love discovering new and delicious things, and hate disappointment. I believe strongly that on a good menu, you shouldn’t be able to “order wrong.” I believe that less is more, except sometimes when more is more, and that there is no such thing as too much garlic. I believe that the quality of the ingredients matters as much as the aptitude of the chef.

Last Saturday I had the opportunity to try Scarpetta, Scott Conant’s high-end Italian restaurant on West 14th. The housemade pasta has received a lot of hype, largely well-deserved: my cavatelli had all the lightness of really fantastic gnocchi, with an accurately al dente chewiness. The caponata was lovely, served with some addictive if heavy-handed salumi e formaggi bread.

Caponata

Primi piatti: My boyfriend slurped down an entire serving of the creamy polenta, which I described as something like macaroni and cheese without the macaroni - would you like some cornmeal with your unearthly amounts of parmesan and heavy cream? The olive oil braised octopus was both more subtle and more delicious, largely benefiting, as many of Scarpetta’s dishes do, from the sheer quality of the ingredients chosen.

Spaghetti with tomato and basil.

Cavatelli with rabbit ragu, porcini and arugula.

Paste: The tomato and basil sauce in the spaghetti pomodoro was plainly not as incredible as I wanted it to be. A little too sweet, not enough garlic. New York calls it “famously restrained,” which I guess is sort of the opposite of what I’m looking for in Italian food. I had no complaints at all, however, about my rabbit ragu: fork-tender, flavorful, the braised meat was an ideal foil to the firm cavatelli. I would have happily eaten three times the quantity of porcini, but luckily a side of broccoli rabe with extra garlic filled the gap.

Veal loin with gremolata crust, salsify, favas and semolina dumplings.

I had only a bite of the veal, and it’s possible that it just isn’t up my alley, but I found it vaguely bland. In summary, come for the pasta and some elegantly prepared, top-quality produce, but you’ll have to be sure to order right.

My favorite pizza in this city is not Lombardi’s or Ray’s or Motorino. I adore Artichoke, but it’s practically a different food type altogether. My favorite pizza is at Arturo’s on W. Houston: a large mozzarella pie with extra sauce and extra garlic, well done.

Garlic bread with mozzarella and a side of marinara is a must - the pre-pizza pizza, that first taste of the incredible tomato sauce is unforgettable. Don’t worry about ruining your appetite. It’s worth it.

This time (the first time in a little over six months I’ve had my favorite pizza), we tried to improve on perfection by adding anchovies. It worked.

Lunch: cheese pizza with extra garlic. We were going to order Domino’s to try the chicken, but I read a bunch of terrible reviews online (hey, I research my fast food choices.) and talked myself out of it. This was definitely the far superior choice.

Yesterday was potluck lunch day at work: my first one, my duty to organize, and, feeling a little sure of myself my first day on the job, I’d suggested Italian food as the theme. I’m lucky enough to work with some serious foodies - professional chefs, people who cook for a living, and eat like it’s their job because it is - so it was understandable that I felt a little intimidated. I refused to give in and do pasta salad. I wanted to impress people. So I got up at five thirty to start the dough for bread: focaccia, full of oregano and basil and garlic, chewy and hearty and moistened through with olive oil.

I used this recipe, but gave the dough an extra rise, which made the finished crust airy even though I rolled it out thinner than the recipe instructed. Topped with olive oil, a thinly sliced tomato, spinach, chopped yellow onion, and garlic, the focaccia still didn’t seem quite right. It was missing something. So, at eight a.m., I ran down the street to Luca’s for a quarter pound of mozzarella. Perfect. The focaccia stood on its own, beside the professionally assembled tiramisu and polenta and finocchio casserole and the frittata that could’ve been on the cover of Martha Stewart. There were no leftovers. I was proud. 

Last night’s dinner was an Indian food buffet for six, one of my favorite meals to make. I grew up with vegetarian Indian dishes and curries in regular rotation for everyday dinners, probably influenced by the fact that my mom was working as a vegetarian, macrobiotic and natural foods cook in the ’70s. As a result, I’m a huge fan of pretty much all beans and peas and well-versed in the arsenal of “c”-spices common in Indian cooking.

Baked vegetarian samosas:

My cheat for samosa filling is setting aside a little of the aloo gobi, adding in some green peas, and frying the mixture briefly with a little extra spice in just a teaspoon of oil. That leaves only the samosa dough to make, which also takes just a few minutes. Baking rather than frying the samosas not only makes them healthier but gives you more flexibility as to when to serve them - I usually use them as a hot appetizer that can be popped in the oven as soon as guests arrive.

• 1 cup samosa filling
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/8 cup vegetable oil
• 1 tsp salt
• 1/4 cup lukewarm water

1. Mix together the flour, vegetable oil and salt in a bowl. Add water bit by bit as needed to make a dough that’s easily workable, not too dry and not too sticky. Knead the dough for a few minutes, and then let it sit while you make the samosa filling.
2. Split the samosa dough into six spheres. Roll each sphere into a flat circle, about six inches wide. 
3. Cut each circle in half with sharp knife.
4. Pick up half a circle and roll it into a cone shape, pressing the edges together to stick. Fill the cone with 2 heaping tablespoons of samosa filling and pull the top of the cone down to seal the samosa like an envelope. Press the edges together to seal.
5. Repeat with all twelve samosas. Brush the finished samosas with an egg wash or a little oil to help them brown while baking.
6. Bake at 400 degrees for 10-15 minutes.

Aloo gobi: 

This is one of those repertoire meals that I make about once a week. It’s easy, healthy, vegan, delicious and the leftovers are even better the next day. Aloo means potato and gob(h)i cauliflower, so the chickpeas are optional but included in my version. I sometimes add green peas or chopped tomatoes as well.

• 1/4 cup vegetable or olive oil
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 large yellow onion, diced
• 1 head of cauliflower, chopped
• 3 potatoes, peeled and cut into sixths
• 1 cup dry chickpeas
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• 1 tsp powdered cumin
• 2 tsp turmeric
• 1 + 1/2 tsp salt
• 2 tsp garam masala

1. Soak chickpeas for a few hours, then drain and boil with peeled and chopped potatoes until beans are tender and potatoes are just beginning to fall apart, about half an hour.
2. Meanwhile, heat oil in a large saucepan or stock pot and add cumin seeds and diced onion. Saute until onions are golden and translucent.
3. Add minced garlic, turmeric, powdered cumin and salt, and a tablespoon of water to create a sauce.
4. Add raw chopped cauliflower to the sauce and stir to coat. Let simmer for five minutes.
5. Add cooked chickpeas and potatoes to the mixture and stir well. Potatoes will begin to take on a mashed-like quality.
6. Remove from heat, cover and let sit for flavors to combine as long as possible before serving. When reheating, adjust spices as necessary.

Raita: 

The perfect condiment to offset the heat in Indian food, raita is a yogurt-based sauce and dip with many variations, akin to tzatziki sauce in Greek cooking. I start with plain full-fat or Greek yogurt, then add an entire cucumber, peeled, seeded, and minced finely. Fresh mint, dill or other herbs are next; last night’s raita included only chopped parsley. A teaspoon of salt and a squeeze of lemon juice finish the dish. It’s best to make raita a few hours ahead of time and let it sit in the refrigerator until ready to eat.

Lentil dahl: 

This is a variation on dal makhani that I make with brown lentils, rather than black (which I can never find here). Makhani is the Hindi word for ‘buttery’, and this dish traditionally includes ghee (clarified butter). I used just a little butter to saute the onion in, and coconut milk to add creaminess and flavor - plus cardamom, cumin, coriander, and a little cayenne for kick.

The basmati rice, lamb curry and garlic naan escaped foodtography: when I’m having a dinner party, I do always prioritize getting food on the table and into guests’ mouths while it’s still warm and just off the stove over getting a good photo of it - a policy I sometimes regret the next day!