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“Spigolo”
| Occasion: | Cuisine: | Area: | Cost: | Rating: |
| Night Out | New American | Upper West Side | Moderate | Great |
But neither one of us had any complaints about the chicken roasted under a brick ($22)—a mind-altering, life-changing chicken that should gain the same reputation as Jonathan Waxman’s Roast Chicken and Fries from his days at Jams (and then Washington Park). A chef who can make a chicken that brings you to tears (of elation) should be given a special award in my book. It is such a humble and pedestrian ingredient, that to make it so damn fine is quite a feat. Don’t go in there and say, “I know Andrea said the chicken was good, but I want the veal breast or the lamb.” Have the chicken! Just trust me people. This brick-chicken will have you shuttling to the Upper East Side weekly. Scott takes this little bird and rubs it up with olive oil, and seasons it with salt and pepper, and then presses it into a hot sauté pan under a real brick (covered in foil) until it is squished down to about two inches thick. It is served with a skin so golden and so crispy that it actually crunches and sizzles in your mouth as you bite through it and into the juicy, tender meat. I was manhandling this bird with no shame—gnawing off bits of meat from legs, wings, and backbones, and then getting to work on the accompanying bread salad that the bird comes with. This is also a joy ride—a full-flavored, vinegary panzanella tossed with tomatoes, nicoise olives, and crusty-soft chunks of country bread. People, chicken has never been this good.
But there is more. Heather—the second (and quite charming and beautiful) half of this equation—must also get her own shuttle bus installed for her bombolini (these would be Italian donuts). First of all, the word bombolini is pretty adorable. And they look like they sound—fat bombs of utterly fabulous fried dough. They are big, puffy peach-sized sugary yeast doughnut balls, served with house made caramel ice cream that gets doused with a hot shot of espresso that turns the ice cream into a milkshake. Dunk those hot (watch the fingers) sugary pom poms into the cool, creamy caramel-espresso lake and prepare for ecstasy in moments. It’s okay to be aroused by food, righ ... [more, click below]
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