In the old Dressler space, Michelin-starred Polo Dobkin’s hand-rolled egg noodle is the elegant cross between a ravioli and a crepe. Dobkin fills the pillowy pasta bundle with sweet, herb-laced ricotta and sets in a delicate, silky pool of parmesan brodo bobbing with plump English peas. A finishing thicket of fresh pea shoots brightens the salty broth and will have you growing wistful for mild spring nights. (The fall rendition features roasted butternust squash, sage and brown butter.) $15.
If there’s anyone we’d want to follow down the rabbit hole, it’s Cedric Tovar. At his rustic Mediterranean spot, the Alsatian chef roasts the game with smoked cipollini onion until it’s sweet and suculent, nestling the meat in a bed of hand-rolled, priest-ear pasta—their ridged edges well-utilized for catching every drop of the brawny pancetta ragu—before giving the plate a drizzle of pureed, celerylike lovage. $26.
When chef Chris Jaeckle pulled this stunner off the menu (he couldn’t source enough high-quality sea urchin to satisfy demand), devotees nearly rioted. Bouncy strands of bucatini are coated in an umami-laden sauce made with dashi parmesan stock, Maine uni, garlic, and brightened with lemon and white wine. More layers of the sea are found in the whisper of rich cream, that together with egg yolks and, you guessed it, more uni, make up Jaeckle’s uni base. Garnished with smoked pancetta and kicky panko breadcrumbs sautéed in Calabrian chili oil, this is a pasta worth taking to the streets for. $32
The 100 best dishes in New York by category
It’s a surprising scene: a burlesque dancer—clad in sequins, tassels and not much else—lifts her leg until a stiletto heel grazes the top of her ear to the sounds of a live jazz trio. No more than a foot away, groups of men in Buddy Holly glasses and women in Stevie Nicks shawls feast on corn-masa tamales fitted with bone marrow ($11), and dark-plum mole studded with grilled octopus ($18). Guadalupe Inn is not what you’d expect from the area—a stretch of Knickerbocker Avenue that’s littered with auto garages and minimarts—and it’s not what you’d typically expect from a New York Mexican restaurant. There’s, thankfully, no jalapeño-shaped string-light kitsch. Instead, glass chandeliers and a rotating disco ball provide a sultry amount of illumination. Curved banquettes the color of salsa verde are angled toward a velvet-curtained stage, where performances range from traditional mariachi bands to bawdy drag comics. The swank supper-club feel is a decided distinction not only from the city’s fellow South of the Border ambassadors but also from the team’s own portfolio of cantinas: Mexico City natives Jorge Boetto, Gerardo Zabaleta and chef Ivan Garcia are also behind Williamsburg’s rustic Mesa Coyoacán and Zona Rosa, which doles dishes out of an Airstream-trailer kitchen. If only Garcia’s modern Mexican plates matched the room’s flashy elegance. The earthy nuttiness of masa tostadas are overpowered by the fishy funk of tuna and an acrid nest of pickled cabbage ($12), and an ag
Venue says: “June Performance Schedule: Latin/Burlesque on Wed., Vinyl Happy Hour on Thurs., Latin bands on Fri./Sat., Boozy Bossa Nova Brunch on Sunday!”