Note: My friend and I were given free dinners at Bottino in exchange for (me) writing a post about the experience, but my opinions are my own and not influenced by anyone else.

My husband likes to say that growing up for him, Italian food was just “food.” (Neither of us are of Italian extraction.) That said, he also grew up on Long Island — a bit of a distance from most known Little (or actual) Italian neighborhoods. Me, I grew up in Maryland where once in a while we ate “elbows and chop meat,” that is, the lowest rent possible spaghetti and meat combination. Our sauce? (Brace yourself: Ketchup. Good ol’ Heinz, from the old country.) Hey, I was a kid and we loved it. (And mom did make eggplant parmigiana once in a while, which is still my favorite Italian dish.)

Fortunately, I grew up and discovered that not only were there more things on heaven and earth in the Italian food world than I could imagine — and so many of them were, in fact, heavenly. I’ve visited portions of Italy, and honestly, no notes. Which shouldn’t surprise anyone who’s been there.

So when I was offered a chance to try a free meal for me and a friend at Bottino in Manhattan (think Chelsea, a bit south of the Hudson Yards), I jumped. You do not have to poke me twice when Italian food is on the line. I immediately looked at the menu and was 100 percent positive what I’d be tackling. My friend and fellow author Karen was available, and so we met up ahead of Thanksgiving to dive into the menu, which was small but had decent coverage of all the major areas.

Bottino has an unassuming storefront on 10th Avenue with an enormously oversized glass-paned front door … and an interesting history. According to the restaurant’s website, the owner and the chef (Danny Emerman and Chef Alessandro Prosperi, respectively), first opened a restaurant in Tribeca called Barocco in 1986. They developed an “art world clientele” who then migrated to West Chelsea, so they shifted locations to the current one at 246 10th Avenue in 1997. The building has a fantastic history itself: It’s an old hardware store that the website says was “reputedly home to a gun-running operation for the IRA during ‘The Troubles.'” I should have asked more about how they know that! In any case, they hired an architect to make it over with “gallery white” walls, mid-century modern “influences” and “recycled 60’s Eames and Knoll furniture.” More on that furniture in a moment. In 2019, they hired chef Jamie Kenyon, and according to the website, in 2020 “La storia continua…” Might be time for more info on la storia, after five years!

I arrived a few minutes early and was greeted warmly, then led to the back patio area which (at the time) was empty except for my guest. (It filled up quickly in the next hour and a half.) We had a space heater above us and shifted so as to not be next to the (slightly drafty) plastic-walled exterior. I’m not certain if the wide-bottomed wire chairs on the patio were part of the Eames and Knoll recycled collection, but I do know one had a broken metal piece that nearly tore my dress when I got up. (Everything was fine.) We shifted chairs and the broken one was taken out of service. (Hopefully either repaired or sent to a chair rest home.) That was the only low note of the evening; everything else was lovely. The table had flowers and a candle, but was a little dim for seeing the menu — I used my phone light.

Now, a real food reviewer or someone who does this regularly probably would have ordered a lot more than we did, but I’m constantly watching what I eat and Karen is vegetarian — so I can’t comment on the Secondi portion at all. (I had been tempted by the boar shank, though, quite a lot.) We shared the cheese and honey plate, I ordered the bavette cacio pepe, Karen ordered the cavatelli verde, and we shared the crispy brussel sprouts with diavolo sauce and bonito flakes. (Everything on the menu is stylized in lower case, so I’m sticking with that.)

We also got a glass of wine each (which turned into two glasses). I wasn’t sure based on the wine list which would work best for us, so I described what I normally like — a syrah, or a merlot — and our waiter brought a lovely full red that I’m afraid I didn’t write down the name of. We liked it so much we got second glasses.

It’s hard to go wrong with honey, bread and cheese — and we ate it all up. We got three hunks of cheese (cow, goat, and sheep) with several slices of toasted dark bread and a square of honeycomb in a dish. I’m not a bloomy cheese fan, but I enjoyed all of the selections. I could have gone for more bread (I’m sure they would have brought it if we’d asked), as we ran out of bread before we ran out of cheese. The only part I wasn’t delighted by was the honeycomb — it presents well, but there wasn’t nearly enough actual honey to use on the bread. Again, I’m sure we could have gotten more, but I’m not sure that’s the job of the patron. You don’t always need “Americanized” portions, but there should be a balance.

My main course — the cacio y pepe — was a delight. This time the portion was just right: Not a “sampler”-looking size, and not a giant “how could I ever finish all this” size. The pasta swirled in the dish, flecked by the pepper and held together by a creamy, delicious grana padano cheese sauce. (Grana padano cheese is my all-time favorite, since I first had it at a wine tasting. It’s deeper and nuttier than the usual parmigiano reggiano, but both are similar — the crumbly, salty cheese you often grate to put on top of pasta.) The dish was light and satisfying and just peppery enough to wake up all of my taste buds.

I hadn’t meant to also pick a side that had some fire to it, but I didn’t mind that the brussels sprouts came with a kick. They were delightfully oily and both crisped and soft enough to chew. I’ve gotten brussels from other places that don’t even reach al dente status, and those are not fun to eat. These were charming and delicious and I’d happily have them every day if I could. That said, they were topped with a fishy flake (that’ll teach me to not know what bonito meant — hey, it sounded Italian) that wasn’t to my taste, so I pushed those to the side.

I failed to sample Karen’s selection, but she reports a “happy thumbs up,” adding, “The pasta was perfectly al dente, a good, chewy texture with a creamy, delicate cashew pesto–I’d never had that before and it was delicious. There were nice big chunks of shiitake mushrooms in it, adding another pop of flavor to the creaminess. It’s definitely something I’d love to have again, and perhaps that’s because it was a new take on an old classic, and elevated it.”

Throughout the meal we were checked in on to make sure all was well multiple times, and we always reported that yes, indeed, all was delightful. By the time we’d finished our pasta courses, we were pretty full — but there’s full and then there’s dessert full, so we went with the olive oil cake.

Alas, I don’t see desserts listed on the web site, so I’m going with memory. A 2020 review of the restaurant called it the Seared Olive Oil cake, served with a scoop of vanilla gelato and a touch of balsamic — with a tangerine olive oil poured on top table-side. That’s mostly what we received, though ours was sprinkled with nuts and there was no pouring undertaken at the table. We thoroughly devoured the dessert. It was soft and sweet and just the right amount of oil. I’ve had other olive oil cakes and generally found them disappointing, but this mini-bundt style one had a slightly crispy exterior and a moist interior that I’d definitely get again.

In the end, our (comped) bill came to about $210, which considering we’d had four glasses of wine felt quite reasonable for NYC. It was nice to not have to pay it, but I think it’s fair to report as part of the review. Would I go back? Certainly! Not only was what we had delicious and savory, next time I might remember to try the boar shank, too.

Bottino is at 246 10th Avenue in New York City. Hours: Tuesday-Saturday lunch, 12-3; Monday-Wednesday dinner, 5-9; Thursday-Saturday 5-9:30; Sunday 5-8pm. There’s a takeout store next door that’s open Monday-Friday 8am-6pm and Saturday 9am-6pm. Phone: 212.206.6766

 

XO,

Randee

 

Previous restaurant review:

Bread & Stone (2023)

 

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