Morandi - by John Henry Campbell

In my nearly five years of living in NYC and dining at Italian restaurants, I’ve rarely been disappointed. Conversely, I’ve rarely been blown away by an Italian restaurant (like I was with Morandi) to the point that I could confidently recommend it to others without some caveats. For instance, Parm is great, but the atmosphere feels a bit impersonal. In my experience a lively, welcoming atmosphere is particularly important for Italian restaurants, and the lack of it at Parm is especially noticeable given its implicit function as a more approachable, more affordable version of Carbone. Babbo and Forsythia are both excellent, but they can be prohibitively upscale for those who like to dress casually (neither have a dress code, but dressing too casually will make you stand out for the wrong reasons).

In contrast, Morandi has a lively atmosphere that raises one’s spirits as soon as you enter the space, meticulously adorned with wood, exposed brick, rows of unmarked wine bottles. The space has telltale signs of an upscale Italian restaurant but its appeal is enhanced by the humility and kindness of the waiters, and the fact that so many people are clearly enjoying themselves next to you, in a communal, rustic setting that resembles a German beer hall if it were in West Village.

To start, a diverse array of charcuterie was ordered to share amongst the group, served alongside a basket of crisp-edged, pillowy bread and a thin pool of emerald green olive oil. Three of us chose to pair the savory small bites (including multicolored olives, prosciutto, and ricotta) with bright and citrusy St. Germain spritzes, garnished with lemon to emphasize the citrus. The drinks were so delicious that I looked up, out of curiosity, what St Germain was afterwards (apparently it’s an elderflower liqueur, which explained the floral notes that I detected). Like its regular Aperol cousin, it incorporates a comfortably familiar, fruity wine taste with Prosecco, but the St Germain is arguably more refreshing. For my main dish, I ordered the iconic grown-up version of Mac and cheese, cacio e Pepe (pictured below).

The cacio e Pepe was a beautiful melange of light, fluffy pasta and salty, tangy flecks of Pecorino Romano and sharp pepper, enveloped in an delicate, buttery sauce. I loved it and I have come to associate the dish with the beauty found in simplicity. This dish’s minimalist appeal was complimented by the celebratory, yet abrasive nature of straight tequila. In honor of my friend whose departure from New York was on the horizon, throughout the evening we shared spontaneously timed, dainty sips of generously sized tequila shots (seriously, it took four toasts to finish our glasses). In the company of friends and amid the delight of the occasion, even the tequila was tolerable for my overly sensitive taste buds. All this is to say that if you are looking for a nice Italian restaurant in Manhattan that isn’t stuffy and whose charm speaks for itself (not all West Village restaurants can say the same), look no further than Morandi.

I think this time ratings are warranted.

Atmosphere: 9/10

Food: 9/10

Drinks: 9/10

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