Honorable Mention: Cafe Cluny's Breakfast Club

I'm a firm believer in the age-old adage that "everything tastes better when cooked by someone else." Not only that, but I'm also convinced that identical foods (even packaged ones!) mysteriously taste better when eaten out of the confines of one's own home. Whether it's whimsy or scientific fact, Cafe Cluny's breakfast club is the perfect example of a dish that's easy to reproduce but impossible to nail.

Flanked by egg-washed wooden benches and, on this day, an ice cream cart addition, Cafe Cluny straddles one of the quaintest corners in the West Village. The French-ish bistro is reminiscent of what you would suspect a Paris bistro to look like if you had never actually been to Paris - bright and airy, and staffed with mime-looking, Breton striped shirt-wearing servers. Except their outfits are most likely from J.Crew, not Petit Bateau. I've only ever been to Cafe Cluny for brunch, but I hear they pull their weight for lunch and dinner, too, serving ricotta and green garlic pesto stuffed handkerchief pasta (that just sounds delicious) and a supposedly awesome tuna burger.

Cafe Cluny's breakfast club w/ fried egg, lettuce, avocado, tomato and spicy mayo
(I left out of the normally included bacon) - $15

The breakfast club is the model embodiment of brunch - breakfast elements served in a typical lunchtime vessel. Its makings are simple, common provisions likely found in your kitchen, but don't fool yourself into thinking it would taste half as good chez toi. What really brings this brunch megamix together is the spicy mayo. It provides just enough kick to ignite your taste buds for the day. As well, it pulls double-duty as the perfect emulsifier to blend all of the ingredients together into holistic brunch bliss. Another of its high points is the seemingly non-choice you have regarding the bread. Your server won't ask you what type of bread you would prefer (white or brown), alleviating the need for that racist debate of good vs. cardboard. Fewf.

The sandwich comes with a choice of fries or salad. While I'm not big on skinny fries (I'm sure we can all agree that McDonald's has just set the bar too high), they are far better to dip into the surplus spicy mayo than pieces of lettuce.

Overall, Cafe Cluny is a safe bet for any time of day. With a frisée salad on the regular menu (you know how I feel about that), the place isn't the most Plebe out there, but in terms of bang for buck, portion size and reliability, it's par for the course.

Cafe Cluny
284 W. 12th Street
NY, NY
(212) 255-6900
http://cafecluny.com
I don't believe they take weekend brunch reservations via Open Table, but with two dining rooms (and the ice cream cart during the summer), the wait is bearable. Reservations are suggested otherwise.

Scarpetta

Before planning a special meal, especially in NYC, I do so much research I inevitably render myself into a state of analysis paralysis. I Chowhound, I blog, I Yelp and I cross-reference until even the most appetizing of options gets nixed. 

I really need a hobby.

Nevertheless, after my hopes for reservations at both Locanda Verde and Marea were squashed I decided to take a gamble on Scarpetta. I'm always reluctant of restaurants with multiple outposts (there's a Scarpetta in every city rappers rap about, or own property), but I was too frustrated to keep clicking.

Fast-forward two weeks.

My travel companion, Mother Plebe (MP), and I hopped in a cab and got dropped off at the corner of West 14th and Hudson St. Pirating the celestial light from the adjacent Apple store, I consulted my phone to get the exact address. The damn map showed it was on the corner! It was cold and my new shoes were pinching.

We finally found the place by sheer miracle. The entrance was so dimly-lit the only thing I could see clearly was the glaring B grade from the Department of Health posted in the window. I know the letter grading scheme is so sensitive that even a paperwork snafu could affect a restaurant's standing, but still. Eek.

We check in, give our coats to the hostess and shimmy over to the bar. It's so friggin' dark that I briefly lose my mother in the crowd. I use my phone to navigate the territory. Surprisingly, MP is less bothered than I am. All of a sudden she makes a spotting: Monica Lewinsky. Her hair totally gave her away. You'd think her layers would've grown out by now.

Image via camillesdish.com

Finally it's time to sit. We score a cozy table by the window replete with natural light and a banquette to spare our purses from the floor.

Naturally, we begin with a bread basket. I had read about the meat and cheese-infused bread, but never in my life did I imagine something so divine. Ironic, because to me it totally tasted like Bar Mitzvah hors d'oeuvres (the amazing kind). I was too entranced to take my own pic, but here is one I borrowed off the interwebs.

(Please excuse the less-than-stellar quality pics. I was too shy to use flash considering I would've likely blinded someone.)

Seared sea scallops - $19

I'm normally not wooed by scallops, but these were impressive. The two honkers, smothered in a sweet, almost honey-like sauce, were the perfect preview to the evening's meal.

Spaghetti with tomato and basil - $24

I should've trusted my gut, and the internet, on this one. This dish is supposed to be a Scarpetta staple, but I read a handful of reviews citing major "over-hypedness". Over-hyped, indeed! It's friggin' spaghetti and tomato sauce. Sure, it was tasty and satisfying, but for $24? The one thing I will say is that the sauce was really nice. I'm no tomato sauce aficionado, but this was sweet and coated the noodles evenly and generously. Nothing I hate more than those watery sauces with isolated glops of tomato.

Was I missing something here? If so, enlighten me. PS. Doesn't it totally look like a brain?

Black taglioni w/ seafood ragout
and basil bread crumbs - $28

MP loved this dish. I only managed to score a few bites, but from what I tasted it was
well balanced - not too seafood-y, not too creamy - and nicely complemented by the bread crumbs. I was also pleased to notice the generous chunks of seafood (for $28 they better be!) Although dwarfed by the giant bowls, both pasta dishes were fairly portioned.

Chocolate cake w/ salted caramel gelato
and chocolate butterscotch - $11

Oh, ma damn, I am still thinking about this dessert. I never really got the whole "salted" dessert bit until I tried Lindt's Fleur de Sel bar; what a novel concept. That being said, the real star of this dish was the salted caramel gelato. This was dead sea style salty, but it worked well - amazingly well, in fact. Coupled with the "this is soooo worth not fitting into my leather leggings" molten chocolate cake and the I'm-Skor's-younger-bitchier-cousin chocolate butterscotch, this was literally the perfect dessert. Except for the fact that I had to share it with MP. Lame.

Overall, our meal was lovely. Nothing awe-inspiring (except for that dessert), but solid, delicious food with super attentive service, to boot.

Price: Mother Plebe paid. Gd bless her.

Scarpetta NYC
355 West 14th Street
NY, NY
(212) 691-0555
www.scarpettanyc.com
Reservations are a good idea
www.opentable.com/scarpetta-new-york

Rubirosa

I'm really sorry I didn't snap a pic of Rubirosa's facade. It was cold and I was about to gnaw off my arm from hunger. Imagine an old school barbershop, pizzeria, and Rag & Bone store all in one. Totally hipster apropos.

The first thing I remember about my evening at Rubirosa was the Brawny man/Ryan Reynolds hybrid seated at the bar with his date. She was fawning all over him and understandably so. Dude was a fox! I may or may not have tried to nuzzle him while we waited (earmuffs, Samburger). Fifteen minutes past our 9:45 p.m. reservation my four pals and I were seated in the restaurant's middle dining room. 

Fun fact: Rubirosa is deceptively roomy; there are three separate dining spaces. 

Next to us was a party of 20-somethings celebrating a birthday. The girl seated at the head of the table was straight out of Black Swan, the vulture part. Girlfriend did not touch a bite of food all night! (I know because I kept looking to see if she was growing black feathers.) Barring the possibility that she may have been lactose intolerant, that was the greatest exercise of willpower I have ever seen.

Never hearing of such a word, our table went hog wild. One of my co-diners and I had even mentally concocted our orders earlier that afternoon.

Bruschetta: Meatball - besciamelle, tomato parmigiano; Tomato - mozzarella, balsamic, basil;
Mushroom - ricotta, parmigiano, pignoli nuts ($3/piece) 

We decided to amuse our bouches with some bruschetta. I opted for the standard tomato. I'm partial to the traditional diced variety so I was a bit disappointed with this "deconstructed" version. Either way, it was super tasty. The real star, however, was the meatball offering. I had major order envy after another of my pals was gracious enough to offer me a bite (read: she turned her head for a moment and I snagged that sucker). Wow wow wow. The meat was so tender, the sauce so meatballicious, and don't even get me started on the cheese. I contemplated ordering one, but then felt myself being judged by Black Swan girl. 

Arugula salad: tomato, ricotta salata, lemon vinaigrette ($10)

I normally hate arugula, but this was lovely. The lemon vinaigrette made it super zesty and light. 

Rubirosa salad: arugula, tomato, mozzarella, croutons, parmigiano, balsamic

Look at those slabs of parm! I so appreciate a restaurant that doesn't skimp on parm. We know it's expensive; we know your Mulberry Street rent is high. So kudos, Rubirosa, on going big where it counts. Despite my puny portion given the five-way split, I absolutely loved this salad. 

Ricotta ravioli: butternut squash, brown butter, sage ($25 - large portion)

Ricotta? Check. Butternut squash? Check. Happy Plebe? You betcha. It's hard to hate on something that combines two of my all-time favorite ingredients. The ravioli plus the squash was surprising light, but bang-on in flavor. I'll admit, though, I would've loved to see a little more cream in this dish. I'm gross that way. 

Vodka pizza: vodka sauce, fresh mozzarella ($16 - smaller portion)

Rubirosa had me at Vodka pizza. I had never seen such a novelty! I easily could've polished off the entire thing, but again fell victim to the five-way split. Sometimes having friends is a major inconvenience. I'm generally not a thin-crust gal, but this pie holds its own without the bulk. Not too crunchy, not too floppy. All-around incredible. Rubirosa's Vodka pizza will no doubt be a repeat offence.

Bianca pizza: ricotta, fresh mozzarella, parmigiano ($16 - smaller portion)

It was weird, I had a completely adverse reaction to the Bianca. What's there not to love about this orgy of dairy all-stars? I guess I'm just spoiled by Jane's rock-my-world version. My pals, however, greatly enjoyed it.

The menu boasts several stellar-sounding dishes, so if you can bear to share I suggest going with your gang and chowing down on as much as possible.

What makes Rubirosa so Plebe friendly are the gargantuan-sized portions. Those "small" pizzas easily fed five of us, as did the heaping platter of Ravioli. And despite the hipster crowd and uber-cool Soho address, the place is super casual, cozy and totally unpretentious.

Price: $110 + tip, split five ways.

Rubirosa
235 Mulberry Street
NY, NY

(212) 965-0500
www.rubirosanyc.com
Definitely make a reservation, but call instead of using Open Table.