Rating: 💋 💋 💋 💋
So last Wednesday I decided to be crazy and go out for dinner on after work. Fun on a school night?? Unheard of!
I branched out even more, too, by going somewhere not on my list, somewhere I had never heard of before. My friend Reils suggested we check out the Brooklyn Bridge, since neither of us had ever been, and he found this great Italian restaurant called Barbalu within walking distance.
Without needing a reservation (again, it was the middle of the work week so this was possible), we got a prime sidewalk table, so we could enjoy the warm breeze and people watch through our meal. I am happy to take that in as long as the weather allows.
Now, the first order of business we need to discuss is the patriarchy. I do not know that this is a fault of Barbalu specifically. Rather, I think they just provided a striking example of an issue that pervades our society. That, or I am just being dramatic. All very possible.
The point is, we ordered a lovely bottle of Italian red wine - a 2016 because according to Reils this was a very good year for wine - and it was absolutely delicious. It was not too spicy or heavy, but was a light red with a clean, crisp finish that I enjoyed. That does not matter, though. What matters is, the waiter poured the original sampling of wine for Reils to try, not me. No big deal, necessarily, but it gets worse. Throughout the evening, he always poured Reils' glass first, instead of, I don't know, being fair and alternating. And finally, from the get-go, he always poured a larger glass for Reils than for me. I was not trying to get drunk, but I felt slighted by the implication of the shorter glass. Like, really? What are you trying to say? The girl cannot handle it but the guy can??
So. Rude.
Reils said next time I will have to order the wine, and then maybe they will give me the preferential wine treatment. I highly doubt it - my Dad is always the go-to for wine tasting at a restaurant, no matter who orders, so that is the established precedent in my worldview - but I will let you know how that goes when we test it out.
Moving right along, the bread was absolutely fabulous. Springy dough, made with perfectly salted water for the right amount of flavor, and the crust had a good pull with a light dusting of flour. The extra virgin olive oil that came with it was fabulous as well, with a light flavor that complemented the bread's flavor. The worst is a heavy olive oil that brings the whole dish down with its bitter taste, but no worries about that here. These people know what they're doing and serve the good stuff. So good, we ordered a second bread basket. No regrets.
My pasta was so beautiful I added two photos and I am not sorry about it. It has been six days and I am still dreaming of these scrumptious tendrils of dough. I always look at the menu before I go to a restaurant because I am so indecisive, but that ended up not mattering this time around because I got the special. Not only that - still feeling crazy! - I made a request so I got a special special.
I have opinions about pasta shapes and they matter a great deal to me. Case in point, broccoli and sausage pasta is one of my favorite dishes EVER. I love it so much. The issue is, they always pair it with orechiette or some other miniature. I do not have a specific issue with small shell pasta exactly, it's just, why get bucatini when you can get pappardelle? The latter is just such a better experience. In most cases, I trust the expertise of the chef and believe that pastas are paired with specific sauces because they hold them better. Chef knows best. In this specific case, though, I find no proof that orechiette supports broccoli and sausage any better than any other pasta. What I do know is that I absolutely love fettucine.
Normally, I hate to ask for substitutions. I really mean it when I say chef knows best, and I do not want to offend anyone. In this instance, though, Reils encouraged me to actually go for what I want, so I asked the waiter, if he didn't mind, may I please or the broccoli-sausage pasta with fettucine instead? He did not even hesitate as he told me that was no problem, and then Reils ordered the same. For that bravery, we were rewarded with tender, buttery long noodles entangled with fresh, bright steamed broccoli and perfectly sizzled sweet Italian sausage, enhanced by the use of onion and garlic - a classic trick. It was an absolutely spectacular experience, oh my Jesus.
I'll be braver more often now; I think that's the moral of the story
Then, since we were already being crazy on so many accounts, we ordered dessert. It was a tough choice and a last minute 'ah! okay we'll have this, please!' kind of order, but it worked out quite well for us. The tiramisu was spongy - not too moist but not dry chalk on your tongue - the cream balanced perfectly atop the lady fingers, adding sweetness without weighing down the dish, and the chocolate powder kept the dish from being too sweet while also doing what chocolate does best - making everything it touches more delicious.
Ohh, if only every week night dinner could taste so fantastic!
XX,
MK