Buenos Aires In Gotham
There are a lot of narrow Yorkville walk-up railroad flats with floors and door lintels settling into some interestingly skewed angles. Most are about 10-feet wide, and it seems like there's an interesting storefront restaurant (or two) on the ground floor of every one, no wider than the apartments above. If you live in one-as I do-you're apt to feel at home at Nina's, a self-described 'Argentinean Pizzeria Restaurant' on Upper Second Avenue.
Four generations of family photographs decorate the wall, going back to the owner's great-grandmother at an Argentinean goat roast. The restaurant is named for her daughter Nilda, or Nina, as the proprietor Marcello prefers to remember her. "All the food here is from her recipes," he told me. "She was already gone when we opened two years ago. I wish she was still here to see what we've done."
In spite of the name, it's a real restaurant, not a Formica counter pizzeria. The small space only allows for a handful of tables, and the subdued lighting and design adds to the cozy, family atmosphere. The cross-cultural meals begin with chunks of bread rolls dipped into (or spread with) slices of eggplant marinating in olive oil.
Empanadas come in three varieties, their crusts soft but not soggy. The beef empanadas are filled with juicy chopped meat mixed with tiny slivers of olive, a clever interplay of sweet and tangy flavors, soft and grainy textures.)An otherwise standard mesclun salad was highlighted by tiny curds of goat cheese, far creamier and smoother than anyone would have a right to expect.
The restaurant specializes in serving up familiar Italian cuisine with an unexpected twist. The pepper and scallion mixture filling the stuffed mushroom appetizer is mellow-flavored rather than spicy, and the mushrooms themselves come served in a broth, not dry on a plate. The pizzas are built on soft, chewy bread, more reminiscent of Indian nan than standard, bottom-crisped pizza crust.
Pasta dishes are of the light, rather than the ballast-heavy variety. While preserving the legacy of his grandmother's recipes, Marcello was also willing to add creamy tomato pink sauce to his Rigatoni Bolognese. It might have horrified a Zagat's purist, but it satisfied the conflicting tastes of two diners at our table.
212-426-4627