Showing posts with label NYC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NYC. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 6, 2022

New York is Worlds Best Pizza NYC

 

Does New York Make The World's Best Pizza ?

Quite Possibly ? Yes !


Dominic DeMarco



Quite Possibly, the World's Best


Does New York make the World's Best Pizza? Believe it or not, the answer is Yes. Yes beelieve it or not, New York may be the Pizza Capital of the World, when it comes to making the Worlds Best Pizza. "Are you insane?" some may say. Not not really, but I get people thinking this, if anyone makes the claim that New York makes the Best Pizza in the World, and that includes Napoli, and all of Italy, in this said statement. 

Well everyone knows that New York makes the BEst Pizza in all of America. That's a fact. You can forget about Chicago, New Haven, and Pizza Bianco in Phoenix, everyone knows New York Pizza is the best, from a couple thousand regular Pizza Joints turning out great Pizza from gas fired ovens, to the awesome historic Pizzerias like; Lombardi's, Johns' of Bleecker Street, Patsy's Pizzeria in East Harlem. and Tottono's on Neptune Avenue, Coney Island, all of these with coal firened pizza ovens, to wonderful spots that make traditional Neapolitan Pizza in Wood Burning ovens, at places like Bella Blu on Lexington Avenue, Motorino, and Trattoria Gigino in Tribeca, New York collectively may very well be the spot that makes the World's Best Pizza. "I kid you not."

I love Italy and Naples and have numerous wonderful Pizzas, but I have often had dissapointing ones as well, as in the case of Pizzeria di Matteo in Napoli, which many consider one of the World's best pizzerias, making some of the World's Best Pizza. "Not" !!! No way. This and some other places in Naples, Italy, do not really turn out great Pizza. Sometimes yes as in the case of Da Marino Trattoria / Pizzeria which makes amazing Pizza that lives up to the moniker of Best in The World. The Pizza that I've had at Da Marino is among the nest Pizza I have ever eaten anywhere, and for me, along with Tutino Pizzeria. Their Pizza is amazing, and one of the best in Naples, and the World.


THE BEST PIZZA I HAVE EVER EATEN

THESE ARE MY FAVORITES of ALL TIME



DiFARA PIZZA ... Avenue J, Brooklyn, New York
RISTORANTE PIZZERIA MARINO, Naples, Italy
JOHN'S PIZZERIA , Bleecker Street, New York NY
L'ARCHETTO PIZZERIA, Salerno, Italy
TUTINO PIZZERIA, Via Cesare 
PRINCE STREET PIZZA, Spring Street, NY .. "The Soho Square with Pepperoni is Amazing !"
TOTTONO'S, Neptune Avenue, Coney Island, Brooklyn NY
L&B SPUMONI GARDENS, Brooklyn, NY
BELLA BLU, Lexington Avenue, New York NY..  A Secret Gem making "Some of NYC Best Pizza"
La LANTERNA, Greenwich Village NY   ....   "The Potato Onion Pizza is Amazing"



The Above LIST is not in any particular order. I've eaten Pizza in the Best Places in the World, including Naples, Sicily, Rome, Salerno, The Amalfi Coast, and New York. These are the best Pizzas I've ever eaten.




NEW YORK'S BEST PIZZA

"PIZZERIAS"

"The WORLD'S BEST" !!!


 
JOHN'S PIZZERIA
 
aka JOHN'S of BLEECKER STREET
 
My FAVORITE PIZZERIA OVERALL


 

 
TOTONNO'S PIZZERIA NAPOLITANO
 
NEPTUNE AVENUE
 
CONEY ISLAND, BROOKLYN
 
NEW YORK
 
"LOVE IT"




 
Pizzaiolo Michael
 
TOTONNO'S
 
Coney Island



.

.
The MASTER
 
Dom DeMarco
 
DiFARA PIZZA
 
Avenue "J"
 
BROOKLYN, NY



.
.
.
The Great Mark Iacono
 
At LUCALI'S
 
Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn


 
 
 


The OVEN at LOMBARDI'S
"This is where it all Started"
AMERICA'S 1st PIZZERIA
Opened in 1905 by Genaro Lombardi





.
Genaro Lombardi with pizzaiolo Totonno Pero
1905

SPRING STREET

NEW YORK NY




.
 
Inside LOMBARDI'S


 
 
 
 
 
JOE'S PIZZA
 
Carmine Street
 
New York NY

 
NEW YORK'S BEST LOVED SLICE




 
 

.
The Soho Square

From PRINCE STREET PIZZA
Now my FAVORITE PIECE of PIZZA in New York

But when it comes to a so-called Plain Slice ?
Nobody Beats Dom DeMarco and his awesomely tasty PIZZA
at DiFARA PIZZA Brooklyn, New York, and the World's Single Best PIZZA

"SERIOUSLY" !!!



.
.
.
The GREAT DOM DeMARCO

And The WORLD'S BEST PIZZA ?

"DOM'S"

DiFARA PIZZERIA

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK





PATSY'S PIZZERIA

East Harlem , New York

"FRANK SINATRA'S FAVORITE"



.
.
.
SUNDAY SAUCE
alla BELLINO alla PACINO
.
.



"PIZZA GOD"




PIZZA GOD

"DOMINIC DeMARCO"













.
SAL & CARMINE'S PIZZA

Since 1957

Upper West Side of Manhattan
2671 BROADWAY, NY NY

As The Signs says, "CRISPY PIZZA" !!!

One of NEW YORK'S BEST



.


FAMOUS BEN'S PIZZA

SPRING STREET Soho



.
SFINCIONE

"REAL SICILIAN PIZZA" !!!

BEN'S is one of The Few Places in NEW YORK 
to Get REAL AUTHENTIC SICILIAN PIZZA, "SFINCIONE"
aka PIZZA PALERMITANA

Of PALERMO





.
.
RECIPES From MY SICILIAN NONNA









"The BEST PIZZA in NAPLES"

RISTORANTE PIZZERIA MARINO

Via SANTA LUCIA 118, NAPLES, Italy

tel.  39 081 764 0280


  
 
 



GERARDO Making PIZZA

L'ARCHETTO PIZZERIA

SALERNO

"One of The WORLD'S BEST"






PIZZERIA TUTINO


One of the best pizzas in Naples, made the old way. I love the one with yellow piennolo tomatoes, provolone and pepper, but also the complete fried one with cicoli, here prepared in the unusual round shape. And what about the fries … Omelettes are literally a drug. You can decide to eat something on the fly outside, leaning on the tables made available, or go upstairs to sit comfortably at a table in the room, whose walls are decorated with frescoes that recall the old traditions of Naples and its ancient trades. The value for money is excellent. I highly recommend it.

"One of Napoli's Best"









HISTORY of The NEW YORK SLICE




NEW YORK PIZZA

SLICE JOINTS


Pizza can be a great divider in New York. In fact, one of the easiest ways to get into argument (without end) is to name a “Best Pizza in the City.” But at the same time, pizza — specifically the reheated, foldable, portable slice — is one of the city’s great uniters. There is no culinary experience that New Yorkers share more widely and more unanimously than the slice joint. Like catching a sunset over the skyline or stepping in an icy curbside puddle, the slice joint has, since its beginnings more than 50 years ago, become common currency.  

 New York pizza starts with large waves of Italian immigrants settling in the city in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. By 1920, roughly a quarter of the 1.6 million Italian immigrants in the United States were living in New York, establishing enclaves in Manhattan, Brooklyn and the Bronx. Such neighborhoods were home to the first pizzerias, like Lombardi’s in Little Italy, which opened on Spring Street in 1905. The namesake of the Neapolitan immigrant Gennaro Lombardi, the restaurant used a coal-fired oven to create pizzas with puffy, charred crusts and a bubbling layer of tomato sauce and cheese that made it one of the most popular restaurants in Little Italy. As if in biblical succession, as apprentices left to start their own pizza operations, Lombardi’s begat Totonno’s in Coney Island, John’s in Greenwich Village and Patsy’s in what is now Spanish HarlemThese are the four acknowledged prewar pizza pillars in the city. (Though none of them was a slice joint in the current sense.)

The price has changed over the decades, but the scene and staging remain much the same. Look at the crowd of New Yorkers and tourists alike bundled in winter coats on a recent Wednesday night at Joe’s Pizza on Carmine Street. The pies at Joes, which opened in 1975, are considered among the city’s best. See how the customers rotate in a perfect line through the door and up to the glass case, their orders ready and their money in hand. “Three dollars,” the pizza man says briskly, after he has placed the requested slice into a decked oven. Out come the hot, bubbling triangles of cheese and sauce on thin, pliable crust. Once their slices are ready, the diners — if so formal a word even applies — grab a place at the counter in the window or push out the door, slice in hand, on to wherever the evening may take them. This is the “New York style.” 

The origin story of New York pizza starts with large waves of Italian immigrants settling in the city in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. By 1920, roughly a quarter of the 1.6 million Italian immigrants in the United States were living in New York, establishing enclaves in Manhattan, Brooklyn and the Bronx. Such neighborhoods were home to the first pizzerias, like Lombardi’s in Little Italy, which opened on Spring Street in 1905. The namesake of the Neapolitan immigrant Gennaro Lombardi, the restaurant used a coal-fired oven to create pizzas with puffy, charred crusts and a bubbling layer of tomato sauce and cheese that made it one of the most popular restaurants in Little Italy. As if in biblical succession, as apprentices left to start their own pizza operations, Lombardi’s begat Totonno’s in Coney Island, John’s in Greenwich Village and Patsy’s in what is now Spanish HarlemThese are the four acknowledged prewar pizza pillars in the city

Hot, filling and eaten with the hands, pizza elicited breathless coverage from The Times fairly early on, as food writers marveled at the appealing combination of ingredients and convenience. By 1947, the paper was fully sold. “A round of dough is baked with tomatoes and anchovies and cheese atop, cut into wedges, then eaten with the fingers between gulps of wine,” the food editor Jane Nickerson enthused. “The pizza could be as popular a snack as the hamburger if Americans only knew more about it.” 

Nine years later, The Times’s Herbert Mitgang contemplated the reasons for pizza’s popularity, writing, “The guess is that a number of Americans of Italian origin, aided by advertising and refrigeration, have made pizza as delectable as such other postwar imports as Lollobrigida” — referring to Gina, the saucy Roman film star. The Neapolitan-style pie became a chic dinner-party staple that could also be supplemented with a salad for a filling, family meal. But one innovation would change how New Yorkers enjoyed pizza forever. 





RAY'S PIZZA

6th Avenue, GREENWICH VILLAGE, NEW YORK

1984


Frank Mastro, an Italian immigrant and businessman, saw the potential for pizza to be as popular in America as the hot dog. He just had to figure out a way to make it quicker and cheaper for both restaurant owners and diners. So in the mid-1930s, he devised a gas pizza oven that maintained optimal temperatures even as the door was opened over and over. 

Although it is hard to pinpoint when pizza was first sold by the slice, the introduction of the gas oven with multiple decks gave New Yorkers the option of enjoying a crisp-bottomed slice either as a full meal or a substantial snack between meals as they moved around the city. Pizza shop owners no longer needed to learn how to operate a coal-fired oven, meaning pizza could be made quicker and with less training. By the 1960s, the slice joint boom was on. And it is the slice joint that really turned pizza from an Italian Food in New York City into a New York City food — a meal shared across neighborhoods, ethnicities and age groups, equally at home in the Bay Ridge of “Saturday Night Fever” as in the Bedford-Stuyvesant of “Do the Right Thing.” 

This proliferation was also helped along by the same thing that brought pizza to this country in the first place: immigration. In the ’60s and ’70s, waves of immigrants from Eastern Europe, the Caribbean and Latin America began joining the work force and landing in food service roles, where the barrier to entry was much lower than in other fields.

As one of the standard-bearers of the current slice-joint renaissance, Scarr Pimentel remembers his spot on 138th Street and Broadway. “Kids like me pretty much grew up in pizza shops,” said Mr. Pimentel, whose family moved to New York from the Dominican Republic. “If you had five bucks you could have a slice, a soda and some ice cream. It was a full meal and sometimes the owner would slip us an extra slice or something.” Mr. Pimentel opened his own pizza shop in 2016, the sleek and retro Scarr’s Pizza on the Lower East Side. His slices and pies are made with organic flour, high-quality tomatoes and cheese and carefully sourced (often organic) toppings, but the slice-joint spirit holds true. “Who would’ve thought a kid like me from the Dominican Republic would own a pizza shop in New York City one day?” he added. 





JOE'S PIZZA

BLEECKER & CARMINE STREETS

GREENWICH VILLAGE, NY



John Kambouris immigrated to Washington Heights in 1965 from a small Greek island about 200 miles east of Athens. “I had $10 in my pocket,” he said from behind the counter of Pizza Palace on Dyckman Street, which he has owned since 1979, when he bought the business from an Italian couple he knew from the neighborhood. “They say the Italians bring the pizza here, but we put our culture on it.” In the 1960s this area was Irish and Jewish, he explained. Today, the neighborhood is home to a large Caribbean population, including a large concentration of immigrants from the Dominican Republic. “I love what I’m doing … we’re making pizza that people want and I don’t have to be Italian to make good pizza,” Mr. Kambouris said, before noting, “I’ve put three kids through college off of this shop.” 


It’s in hundreds of shops like his around the city, many no bigger than subway cars, where you’ll find New Yorkers shoulder to shoulder, eating slices in near silence. “Teens, Wall Street guys, guys camped out with a shopping cart, a pizza place is the most diverse space in the city,” said Colin Atrophy Hagendorf, author of “Slice Harvester: A Memoir in Pizza” and host of the Radio Harvester podcast. “Inside a pizzeria that dream of diverse New York City is a reality. I think that’s such a beautiful thing. 



Basta !






SUNDAY SAUCE

MACCHERONI

SPAGHETTI MEATBALLS

SOUP

And More ..














Saturday, May 28, 2022

New York Taxi Art

 




CHECKER CAB

NEW YORK TAXI

by BELLINO







NEW YORK CHECKER CAB TAXI

FINE ART PRINT by Bellino







CHECKER CAB

NYC TAXI

Framed FINE ART PRINT by Bellino





Tuesday, February 22, 2022

Mafia Restaurant Dining History New York City NYC

.


Michael Corleone , Captain McCluskey and Sollozzo
 
At LOUIE'S in The BRONX
 
 
"Get the Veal it's the Best in the City"

 
The market is uneasy. Competition is fierce. The trust busters in blue are talking tough. Vito Genovese, chairman of the board of the oldest, richest, fattest, conglomerate of them all, is dead.         In tense times like these, the flow of corporate debate is primed by tranquilizing platters of Sicilian soul food: crusty rings of calamari, steaming bowls of zuppa di pesce, the purple splendor of a well-sauced eggplant.         The Carlo Giambino division has been eating up a storm at Villa Vivolo in Gravesend, Brooklyn...$40 a night, out of petty cash. Thomas (Tommy Ryan) Eboli, Vito’s acting underboss, and elder statesman Michele (Mike) Miranda...and sometimes titular executive pro tem Gerardo (Jerry) Catena...have been brooding about the rites of executive succession over espresso in the grubby Napoli e Notte Cafe at 165 Thompson Street. Why the Napoli e Notte? There’s nothing to eat but potato chips and pretzels. Nothing to look at but a very spiffy juke box, an unsmiling old lady in basic black, Pepe the poodle in bows of baby blue and a sign: “This is not a club. Don’t hang around.” Maybe the Genovese trustees are dieting. Tommy does have a bum heart. Mike has diabetes. And Jerry in the flesh is no Joe Namath.         

Let these gourmandizing board meetings continue. What is good for the Mafia is good for gourmet country. The Mafia is widely advanced as “the Michelin Guide for Italian restaurants, and a three-star police raid is...a tribute to the excellence of the kitchen.         But is it?         A gourmet crew of Mafia Boswells and plumpish law enforcement officers have shared their personal dining guides to Mafia-starred restaurants, raided and unraided. And I have waded through a roiling flood of tomato sauce to test the mystique of the Mafioso palate.         Characteristically, the menu is narrowly Southern—souvenir of Naples, Calabria and Sicily; the bread is crusty and irresistible; the flowers are faded plastic; murals celebrate the Bay of Naples. You dine with judges, pols, fuzz in mufti, expatriate Italians from the suburbs, beehive-headed dolls in purple leather minis and stiletto heels...and maybe, seven solemn Dons along the same side of a banquet table, their backs against the wall.
***

        Luna’s at 112 Mulberry Street has a fine old tradition of three-star raids. Crazy Joe Gallo got pinched here twice. And rackets magnate Anthony Strollo, likewise known as Tony Bender, was an after-midnight regular until he mysteriously disappeared. More recently Luna was raided merely for serving wine without a license. But if you’re thirsty, say the magic word Chianti and more likely than not, a bottle will appear.
        You think the staff may fly into panic at the entrance of a brass-buttoned patrolman. But no. One strolled in at dinner recently and was practically embraced by a waiter. “He’s my friend,” the waiter announced. “He won’t do nothing to me.” Friendly officer was escorted to the kitchen for supper. It’s a New York custom. Think of the policeman on the 57th Street beat who takes his lunch in the kitchen of Le Pavillon.
        Luna fans fill the garish narrow trattoria freshly painted Easter-egg blue beneath its fabled mural—Vesuvius, a light bulb tucked into its mouth, a neon moon above. The affection is two-way. “Here you are, you nut,” says the waitress serving a plate of steaming mussels.
        The menu is more adventurous than most: several homemade pastas, tripe, brains, veal knuckle (Thursday), steak in Neapolitan or Sicilian style. Portions are large, prices low, 29 entrées at $2 or less...and the service can be whimsically cavalier. At first you are amused, then humble, then fretful...then choleric. There is a full house and two waiters: across the room, a dashing professional; your waiter, a bustling bumbler. He forgets the table cloth...que sera...forgets the bread, serves one guest a watery minestrone several minutes after the other guests have finished their antipasto, and exactly 90 seconds before arriving with her entrée. No problem really. The soup is inedible anyway. The hot antipasto ($1.75) is dull and under-seasoned, clams dry, langoustine tough but the eggplant is lovely.
        The waiter is so cheerful. “Here you are, please,” he sings, delivering mussels in a red wine sauce ($1.75), though we asked for white. The red is far too robust, overpowering the delicate mussels. Calamari Arrigante* ($2.25) is squid layered with buttery, magnificently seasoned crumbs. The chicken cacciatore ($2.25) unappetizingly dismembered into tiny pieces with cracked shins and marrow exposed is sharp with the unpleasant taste of burnt garlic and rich with mushrooms.
        But the faces...I felt a chill as a burly chap in black bowler walked in. That battered face. A button (trigger) man for sure. Then, disappointment. He sat down...back wantonly to the door and proceeded to discuss Merce Cunningham with a lady companion.


*The spelling of dishes on Italian restaurants’ menus is as variable as their tomato sauces.



 
 
 
 


        Loving ghosts haunt Lombardi’s at 53rd Spring Street—shades of a little Appalachin raid in 1965 –but there was not a customer at table at 12:45 one Wednesday afternoon. Calico privacy drapes the storefront window and the dining room is freshly brocaded. There is a shrine for religious devotion, an orchid tree and a massive stern-faced woman, guardian of the cash box; I suspect she came from Naples in that very chair, straight from shouting “putana” at Sophia Loren in some Carlo Ponti production. Out of the kitchen strolls a distraught creature in a shower cap, clutching a bunch of parsley. The hot antipasto is fair ($1.75): stuffed zucchini, stuffed mushroom, stuffed red pepper, stuffed mussels...the same bland stuffing. Fettucine Alfredo, homemade ($2.75) but stingily sauced. Stuffed breast of veal ($2.75), obviously out of the fridge, was still ice cold inside, served with rubbery roast potato and oversteamed escarole. It tasted better after re-heating, hearty, filling and profusely mushroomed. The white wine was warm...the waiter adlibbed an ice cube. Asked for a homemade dessert, he appeared with the remnants of a giant ricotta cassata, creamed cheese and cake melded and moist, too cold but very good. I must have a Sicilian sweet tooth.
***
        There is a refreshing simplicity about Vincent’s Clam Bar, corner of Mott and Hester Streets, at counter, in booth: The choice is littleneck clams on the half shell ($1.50 a dozen), shrimps, scungili (conch), calamari (squid), mussels (small $1.25, large $2.40) or combinations thereof ($2.40) and hunks of Italian bread doused in a fiery red sauce: very hot or much-too-hot. Stubborn snob that I am -- nothing’s too hot for me -- I ignored the warning. After four forkfuls of squid and conch, my mouth was anesthetized. The prudent Kultur maven fared far better with his hot shrimp and mussels. Vincent’s traffic never stills. Friday it’s a must. Turnover is swift. Out informant from narcotics control almost wept as he recalled a surveillance in Vincent’s. “I wasn’t going to eat but I couldn’t resist. Just as they served the scungili, the guy I’m tailing leaves.” Talk about conflict.
 
 
***
 
        Paolucci’s, one flight up at 149 Mulberry Street, an old Van Rensselaer pad, has been called Le Pavillon of Little Italy. Perhaps it’s the altitude. The place does have dignity. Also, acres of red brocade. It is family-run. Everything is cooked to order...à la carte...and drinks with ice cubes cost 10 cents extra. Entrees are mostly $2.25 to $2.75. The homemade hot antipasto (for two, $2.50) lost much of its individuality in a blanket of tomato sauce. The cold antipasto ($1.25) was more successful...everything fresh and of superior quality. Homemade roasted red peppers (.90) were magnificent but a stuffed artichoke ($1.25), perfectly cooked and choke removed, was a bit blandly seasoned. The bread was hot, fresh and wondrously crusty. Percitelli a filet di pomidoro ($2) turned out to be fat spaghetti in a light savory tomato sauce flavored with basil and minced prosciutto. Veal Rolatini ($2.60) was brown and crisp outside, tender and moist within, its stuffing a savory blend of cheese and prosciutto. Even the potato croquette tasted “to order.” Broiled sea bass ($2.75) was perfectly done, lightly garlicked, sprinkled with pungent flat-leafed Italian parsley.
        But the masterpiece was an order of Italian broccoli sautéed in oil, garlicky and so brilliant a green one cynic suspected a dash of illicit bicarbonate of soda has gone into the pot.
        Even Pavillon has its haute catastrophes. Paolucci’s downfall was the zuppa di pesce, ($4.75)...a mild, almost sweetly-scented fish soup of baby clams, tenderest squid, juicy shrimp and...disaster...great chunks of not-quite-cooked bass.
        We ordered cheesecake to chase the spectre of the zuppa. But it was still baking. Demi-tasse was brought to the table with a bottle of Anisette. The service was polite and professional.
***
        Little Augie Pisano was shot to death with Gian Marino’s recipe for clam sauce in his pocket. Grazie Dio. Little Augie departed still garlicky and glowing from his last supper. That was 1959. Today Gian Marin’s clam sauce is hardly worth getting shot for. It is stingily ladled over gummy linguini and under-garlicked.
        Still there is this to be said for Marino’s: The food is edible, often good, occasionally commendable and at 716 Lexington it is only a few steps from Bloomingdale’s. Perhaps it is the dim lighting or the waiters editorializing in Italian that makes Marino’s a twilight zone, free of shopping-bag tension.
        At the lunch hour peak there is waiting. The crowd is eclectic: shopping tourist couples, merchants and salesmen, an African diplomat, a bearded pop-music critic, those glamorous young men who wore Cardin suits before Cardin invented them, a sexagenarian with Lolita and at the next table a bull-necked fellow saying, “I don’t want to get myself killed.” Mother, a nervous visitor from the Middle West, wanted to leave at once. The service was polite and perfunctory. Only friends of the house were offered grindings of fresh pepper and crusty whole wheat bread.
        By two on another afternoon, the crowd had thinned. The maître d’ had time to serve a candlelit cake singing “Happy Birthday to You” with operatic bravura to a table of men with that New York face that could be Jewish or Italian.

        The menu is banal, á la carte, with most entrées in the $2.50 to $3.75 range at lunch, slightly higher at dinner. The special antipasto ($2) was not at all special. The Wednesday sausages were good but the ziti with it was not well drained, diluting the nondescript sauce ($3.25). Veal cutlet alla Milanese ($3) was crisp and tender. Tomato sauce, served on request, was thick, meaty and well-seasoned. Veal parmigiana ($3.25) was less successful. Clams Oreganate ($2) were six of the tiniest creatures, incredibly tender, juicy under a cover of well-seasoned crumbs.
        Ricotta cheesecake, though too cold, was excellent. And the espresso was the true foamy brew from one of those Rube Goldberg machines that could pass for a jukebox.
***
        The walls of Vesuvio are painted. That’s the decor. By the rules of Southern Italian soul you know a place that looks this bad has got to be good. To reach the corner of Liberty and Cleveland you cruise through the tenement wilds of burned-out Brooklyn. Do as our city fathers do. Don’t let the devastation spoil your appetite.
        The backroom is hopping...mink stoles...a guy with a suitcase who says, “I came here right from the airport”...very affluent types. There is one table in the bar room, the equivalent of the royal banquette uptown, no doubt. It’s reserved for Jimmy Breslin. We are celebrating his escape from the girdle ads in the New York Post and the movie sale of his novel, The Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Straight.

        There are no menus. What do you want? If they’ve got it in the kitchen, ecco la! You order generic: shrimp, veal, calamari. And then by color. Linguini with clam sauce...red or white? The house wine arrives in an unlabeled bottle. And the food, family style, on big oval platters. Sixty baked clams...we are only six. The clams are juicy, garlicky and good. Stuffed mushrooms are less interesting and slightly singed. The linguine, a little overcooked, is beautifully sauced, again, a feast of garlic. The Shrimp, Veal Marsala and Veal Francese are robust country food. The squid is drowning in an oily tomato sauce but tender and good. The leftovers would feed another four. We should have brought Fat Thomas*. The service is pleasant and businesslike, a tribute to the patrone, Tony the Sheik, veteran of Little Appalachin raids at Lombardi’s and La Stella. Well, I knew it wasn’t Tony the Chic. Dinner with demi-tasse and tip is $40.
        Vesuvio is moving soon. “To one of those cinderblock joints,” Jimmy glooms. “They’ll probably ruin the place.”
 
*Fat Thomas was a frequent character in Breslin’s columns edited by my then husband, the Kultur Maven.
***
 
 
        La Stella won its three-star rating from the Black Hand gourmet inspection team September 30, 1966, when a swarm of police invade the privacy of a family reunion. La Stella is still worth a side trip to Queens, wherever that is. 102-11 Queens Blvd., Forest Hills, to be precise.
        La Stella is busiest at dinner. Service seems slow because everything is cooked to order. At lunch though, you get some very serious eaters. Even so, the lone waiter, an unusually cheerful and friendly chap, reeled at the depth and breadth of our order. “My friend is celebrating her divorce,” I adlibbed in an attempt to explain. He provided dimes for our 30-minutes parking meter...and prompt reminders at half-hour intervals.
        The hot antipasto ($1.25) failed to survive its blanketing sauce though the shrimp were tender and the eggplant nicely seasoned. Cold antipasto ($1.25) was, again, more refreshing, nothing homemade but everything fresh and of excellent quality. Crisp slivers of zucchini, batter-dipped and deep fried (.90) were marvelous. Properly al dente spaghetti ($1.90) was heady with an abundance of garlic...perfect for me, too much for my friend. The striped bass marechiare ($2.75) was excellent, tender, with the subtlest of herbed tomato bits. Veal Rolatini ($3.25) was tough and dry.
        The cheesecake tasted homemade (.50) and the cannoli --  that pastry cylinder of creamed cheese with candied fruit and bits of chocolate -- prompted such ecstatic groans that the waiter urged us to sit awhile. “It’s only an hour or so till dinner,” he said.






FAVORITE MOBSTER EATS

MACCHERONI PASTA

GABAGOOL - BRACIOLE

SAUSAGES  -  SUNDAY SAUCE

CANNOLIS and MORE ...



 
 
 


RAO'S
 
East Harlem


This eponymous eatery, named for founder Charles Rao, opened its doors off Pleasant Avenue in 1896. It evolved into a social and gustatory phenomenon, a place where dinner reservations are about as hard to come by as a cheap one-bedroom with Central Park views. 
 
 
Hecklers are the worst. Most people just tell them to shut up, but mobster Louis Barone is not most people. When Albert Circelli wouldn't stop mocking Broadway vet Rena Strober's performance of "Don't Rain on My Parade" at Rao's, Barone silenced him by shooting him in the back with his .38. Barone went to jail, but a suitcase full of limbs turned up outside Rao's seven years later. The place's mob ties are so famous, Scorsese featured a regular (Johnny Roastbeef) in Goodfellas and used the spot as inspiration.
 
 
 
 


The NEW YORK "DAILY NEWS" FRONT PAGE
 
The Morning After Big Paul Castellano Got Whacked
 
Outside SPARK'S STEAK HOUSE
 
on West 46th Street Midtown Manhattan


 
Gambino Family Crime Boss Paul Castellano's Body
 
on the sidewalk in front of SPARK'S STEAK HOUSE
 
New York , NY
 
December 17 ,  1985
 
 
Paul (Big Paul) Castellano, the aging and beleaguered kingpin of American organized crime, was shot to death yesterday in front of a midtown steak house in a brazen rubout that investigators said “could determine the future” of the Mafia in this country.
Also killed with Castellano, 70, was Thomas Bilotti, 47, a reputed captain in the Gambino crime family, which Castellano had controlled since 1976. The two victims were both shot in the face by an execution team of three unidentified men who pulled semi-automatic handguns from their trenchcoats, according to investigators.
“This could be the beginning of a war,” said Thomas Sheer, deputy assistant director in charge of the New York office of the FBI. “If it is, this is the first battle.”
One of the gangland assassins reportedly fired a coup de grace shot into Castellano’s head before the three men fled on foot toward Second Ave. A police source said a witness saw one of the gunmen speaking into a walkie-talkie as he ran. The trio then jumped into a black rented Lincoln Town Car, with a New Jersey license plate - ABM 43Z - and made their getaway.
 
 
The Body of Thomas Bilotti
 
Paul Castellanos's Bodyguard / Driver
 
Lies in the Middle of East 46th Street
 
between 2nd and 3rd Avenues
 
as Bilotti and his Boss Big Paul Castellano
 
were Gunned Down in front of SPARK'S STEAK HOUSE
 
 
 


BIG PAULIE 1959
 
 
Spark's was a Favorite of Big Paul
 
 
That's Before his was Assassinated Outside
 
on ast 46th Street



Screen Shot 2017-10-10 at 1.45.54 PM


JOHN GOTTI



It was later revealed to the public that John Gotti orchestrated The Gangland Hit
on Gambino Crime Boss Paul "Big Paulie" Catellano in front of Spark's Steakhouse
on East 46th Street , and that Gotti and his Underboss Sammy "The Bull" Gravano
sat in a parked car on 46th Street a half a block away as two of Gotti's Button-Men
gunned down Castellano and his Bodyguard Thommy Bilotti in Midtown Manhattan
on the night of December 17 , 1985  ... By doing so, Gotti suceeded in one of the most
notorious Mafia Takeovers in American Mafia History ..


 
 
 

 
The SIRLOIN is de RIGUEUR
 
 
  
Creamed Spinach is the side dish of Choice
 
at Sparks and any Steak House at All.
.
.
.
Screen Shot 2017-10-09 at 10.20.45 AM


"Don't Forget The CANNOLIS"

That's what Corleone Capo Peter Clemenza's wife told him as he was leaving the house one day. The day they Whacked Paulie Stuffoza in retribution by Sonny Corleone ( James Caan ) for Paulie's involement in the attempted murder of Don Vito Corleone, played by Marlon Brando .




CLEMENZA GETS The CANNOLIS



CLEMENZA'S GOT CANNOLIS



 
.
,
 
 
 
Screen Shot 2017-10-10 at 2.16.41 PM

.
UMBERTO'S CLAM HOUSE

MULBERRY STREET / LITTLE ITALY NEW YORK


Umberto's was a favorite Mafia hangout / eatery where Joe Gallo , his associates friends and family liked to eat Shrimp , Mussels , ClamsScungili , and Calamari in all there popular ITALIAN Preparations     were prepared just the way Joe liked them. BAKED CLAMS FriedCalamari SPAGHETTI with CLAM SAUCE , Mussels Marinara , Lobster Fra Diavolo and all the favorite ITALIAN  Seafood Dishes could be had at Umberto's Clam House which was usally packed at night , especially late night when many were finished drinking for the night and needed some good eats before heading home.


.
.
Screen Shot 2017-10-10 at 2.17.18 PM.png

CRAZY JOE GALLO


.
.
Screen Shot 2015-10-22 at 2.35.57 PM
.

ITALIAN CHRISTMAS

Favorite "CRAZY JOE" RECIPES Inside
,
.
.
 
 
Is Peter Luger Doing Better Than the Mafia?
 
 

 
PETER LUGER
 
The WORLD'S MOST FAMOUS STEAK HOUSE
 
Williamsburg Brooklyn
 
A Favorite Wiseguy Haunt 

 
        An influential New York Stock Exchange market maker and long-time habitué of the top-rated Brooklyn steak house complains to a Peter Luger manager about the long wait for a table.  He slips the man forty bucks.  And waits. “I thought there was a recession,” the customer complains.
        “What recession?” says the manager. “No signs of it here.” Business is up 15% so far this year, he claims.
        “Yes,” says the waiter to the specialist, finally claiming his table.  “We could be doing better now than the Mafia.”
 
 
 
 
 
 
The PETER LUGER PORTERHOUSE STEAK
 
 
 
 
 
 
f33a5-screen2bshot2b2016-09-282bat2b2-13-032bpm


The RAGU BOLOGNESE COOKBOOK

SECRET RECIPE

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Author Daniel Bellino Zwicke