Falai vs. Frankie’s 17: Italian Date Night on Clinton Street

Generally, first dates are awkward. There’s no getting around that. There is, however, the potential for making them even worse with a poor choice in restaurant – lame menus, bad service, a weird ambiance – nobody needs that added pressure. I’m partial to Italian food for dates because a.) it’s always amazing, b.) you can generally find something on a menu that anyone will enjoy, as opposed to sushi or something, and c.) you can get quality food for your dollar. Okay, okay, I lived in Italy, I’m obsessed with Italian food, so sue me. Here, two suggestions for date night, be it the first or the fiftieth, on the ever trendier LES (that’s lower east side, do I really have to explain?).

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Iacopo Falai’s hidden gem of a restaurant, Falai, lies innocently enough on Clinton street, just off of Rivington, but if you’re looking for it at night, the bright white interior, almost sterile in its modernity yet immediately inviting, shines out at you across the street. Falai, a Florentine chef, not only has the main restaurant, but a Caffe offshoot for pastries and lighter fare. The menu is infused with earthy Tuscan ingredients and every dish is calculated to perfection, with perfect bites elegantly constructed in some cases and in others left for you to DIY.

I went for a light dinner with a friend and was surprised to be seated in the garden, a quaint spit of land behind the restaurant decorated with two huge white umbrellas and a scattered handful of candles. Romance. Two of the five tables sat Italian patrons – always a good sign – who were arguing about soccer teams by the time I finally rolled myself out the door. I have to say, I’m not usually a dessert person, I’d rather have an extra appetizer instead of lots of sweets, but I was converted. See below for sugary details. My date and I split a pasta and an entrée to start; I wisely chose the Stracci di Pasta, a gorgeously arranged handmade pasta plate with brightly colored pastas folded over and stuffed with fresh asparagus, pioppini mushrooms, gooey asiago cheese and dressed to perfection in a ‘summer truffle fondue.’ Heaven. My date went carnivore and chose the Anatra, or duck, a perfectly cooked breast sliced neatly which came with its elements gorgeously strewn across a big square plate: salsify purée, purple potato chips, kumquats, and a star anise infused sauce. Both plates, although very different in taste and arrangement, were incredibly colorful – wish I’d gotten a sneak picture. I think I have to start taking real pictures though, these mobile snapshots are just not doing the food justice. Oh, and in case you’re wondering: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salsify

For wine, a glass each of a Chianti Colli Fiorentini, from, where else, Florence, to bring back waves of nostalgia, and a Nero di Troia, for a fruitier note to compliment all the sauces.

Falai is no ordinary Italian joint. Iacopo goes above and beyond to bring the gourmet point home with intermittent beautifully served amuse-bouche. The first was a caviar and yogurt combination atop some incredible olive oil, which was dressed at the table with a cucumber emulsion. Light and airy, it was incredible. But what I was impressed by were the two – yes, two – predesserts, which we anticipated with the reception of THREE spoons. I knew we were in for it then. The first was a delicious pineapple, yogurt and olive oil mouthful, and the second, a really bizarre sorbet of parsley. Hm. Definitely palate cleansing though. Which was necessary before The Best Dessert I’ve Had in A Restaurant Possibly Ever.

Seriously. I know I ate dinner once at a dessert bar, but I’m NOT big on dessert. Maybe it’s because I’m too impatient and spontaneous to be a baker, and I love cooking so much? I like sweet things just not so much of them. Which is why I hardly ever order dessert to split, let alone my own, and a different one for whoever I’m with, and two predesserts. For my compatriot, a ‘classico,’ five tiny profiteroles oozing chocolate marsala sauce and perfectly puffy on an elegant dish; yummy, I suppose, but didn’t light a match in comparison to my ‘non-classico.’ Straight from the Falai menu:

RASPBERRY SOUFFLE, black truffle gelato, torrone crème brûlée (10 min. wait).

Let’s discuss. A 10 minute wait is always a good thing. There is time and effort going into this dessert, folks. Second, if you don’t know by now, ‘truffle’ is one of those evil words that, should the circumstance arise that it is listed on a menu, some force overtakes me and I must order that item. It’s a favorite. But I was curious about the heroic truffle flavor mixing with the sickly sweetness of raspberry, and, um, by the way, how the heck was this all going to go in a soufflé?!

(bad shot, I know, sorry.)

It was Magic. The waiter brought it out to me, perfectly puffed in its ramekin, and nonchalantly told me the truffle gelato was already inside. “Ohh, yes, of course,” I nodded knowledgably. He then proceeded to pour the raspberry sauce DIRECTLY onto the soufflé, making it POUF even more. The first bite was intense. The hot fluffy crème oozed into the cold and richly flavored gelato, and the raspberry was just the right amount of tart to set the whole thing off. Textures, temperatures, flavors: this is the dessert for me, I tell you. Oh, there was a slushy wine amuse on the side, just to make sure you were paying attention to flavor, temperature, and texture. That was ok, a little sour for me. But really, that soufflé… The moral of the story is, take your date to Falai for a luxuriously intimate meal. Entrees, about $29, pastas, around $19, desserts $10, wines by the glass about $13. You get the idea.


Falai
68 Clinton Street
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Okay, you’re on Clinton, you have a date, maybe it’s dinner with a friend and you really need a good catch up, maybe it’s your Special Friend, whatever. Frankie’s Spuntino (17 Manhattan). For those not in the know, a spuntino is like a little snack, which says something to the nature of Frankie’s. For one, it’s a lot more charming and a lot less DÉCOR than Falai. Maybe a little less well-lit, which you might be going for. The plus for Frankie’s is that they recently purchased the space next door, so while the main side has the little bar and cute rickety tables, the next-door is a little more intimate, quieter, and can seat private parties.

I don’t like ordering food. If I had my way, the chef would just send something out everywhere I went and I’d try new and exciting things and not stress when the menu came. Seriously, it’s a difficult decision, especially in light of the date theme we’ve got going on in this post. What if you order something the other person thinks is stupid? Is allergic to? Is too expensive? Is disgusting? Do you share? With Italian antipasto, you cannot go wrong. Frankie’s plate, a $15 assortment of yummy cheeses, meats, and veggies, is an incredible icebreaker. You can nibble and ponder while you chitchat and continue to scope out the rest of the menu. Frankies, famed for its sandwiches, which nobody wants for dinner, is perfect for this. And a good glass of wine (which they have a great list of not-over-the-top-$$$-bottles) with some cheese and meat is just unbeatable.

After my dinner date and I had successfully put a dent in the bottle we ordered (albeit a much nicer one than I would have ordered on a budget) we finally decided on food. I don’t order my own food, it just isn’t enough options for me, so we split two pastas and a salad, a perfect amount of food. The salad was watercress with white peaches and gorgonzola, $11, which we thought would balance out the two heavier pastas, which were a homemade gnocchi with ricotta and marinara, $14 (who can resist the words homemade and gnocchi, together? That’s true love) and an incredible sweet potato and sage ravioli with crisp fresh slices of parmesan on top, $13. That one in particular brought me right back to memories of slow cooking sage butter in my tiny Italian apartment to pour over fresh tortelloni di zucca (pumpkin) in my apartment. Sometimes showcasing simple, fresh ingredients with light sauces is the absolute best way to do things, and in the cases of all three of these dishes, the absolute right decision. In a way, the complete opposite of the taste experience at Falai. And while both are incredible, obviously, at the end of the day I’d prefer the wine and sage butter, hold the dessert.

We got a ton of food, by the way, don’t feel you need to order this much if you pop in to Frankie’s for a wonderful dinner. Thumbs way, way up for taste and casually intimate ambiance.


Frankie’s Spuntino
(17 Manhattan)
17 Clinton Street
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