Dallying at Da Ciro – NYC

I just did 20 interviews for residency, and “Tell me about your interest in food” seemed to be every interviewer’s favorite question. And every interview’s favorite backhanded compliment seemed to be “But you’re so much…thinner than I expected for a foodie!” Thank you. I am honored to be less fat than you expected.

Along those complimentary lines, the food at Da Ciro tasted much more homemade than I expected. Sorry Da Ciro, but most of it tasted like stuff I could make at home.

To be fair, home cooking is one of my favorite foods. But that’s because everyone is a better cook than me. And to be fair, the Fried Calamari was probably a little better than something I could make, even with a deep fryer, but nothing to write home about, especially if home is Italy or any place that serves decent seafood.

There’s a reason Manicotti starts with man. These huge rolls of pasta stuffed to the brim with rich ricotta and basil makes it a high-end Hungry-Man dinner, especially with the less-than-desirable amorphous-pile-of-red-sauce presentation. The basil definitely tastes better than microwave cardboard with gravy, but I’ve made similar stuffed shells with cheese and a can of tomato sauce.

The Veal Meatballs are the only thing I really can’t make myself. Dense, tender and perfectly seasoned, the savor comes as much from the chef as the veal. The only way I’d make something this good is by chance.

Sorry Da Ciro, but like my time with you, this review will be short and sweet. Unlike Artisanal, I’ve only met you once and I won’t be meeting you again so there will be no Dear John letter for you. Some restaurants come and go while some leave footprints on our palates and we are never the same. You were the former type so I barely need to bid you goodbye. Your veal meatballs deserves better than my flippancy, but after 3 weeks in NYC, I’m just not that into you.