Gridskipper's The First Bite is the Sweetest: Morandi
Yesterday evening, while the sun shone high in the five o'clock sky, Gridskipper became the first ever paying customers at Keith Mcnally's latest venture, Morandi. Mcnally has found fame with Schiller's, Pastis and Balthazar, all variations on French bistro fare. At Morandi however, aided by Jody Williams, he turns Southeasternly to Italy for inspiration. Though expansive the atmosphere has something of a grotto in it: low ceilings, sturdy rafters, copper tabletops, wooden chandeliers. The server aprons are unbleached cotton, the wood has been carefully sanded to its unfinished state and the menu, the size of a children's book, comes on brown craft paper. Bottles of Chianti take the place of Schiller's sequentially numbered red wine bottles, lining the warmly lit walls.
After the jump, an illustrated guide to the first dinner at Morandi.
In any city on any night at any restaurant, the food we ate would be delicious. That it was served so adeptly on the opening night is testament to McNally's managerial skill. He had, of course, help. We spotted the manager from Pastis managing the floor and that mustachioed guy who looks like a young Bob Dylan from, until recently, Max's. The menu adheres to McNally's commitment to simplicity. Though extensive, one wouldn't call it inventive. And though rare, the dishes are nothing new. The Skate En Saur, a portion of skate with red onions marinated in vinegar and pinenuts, is a typical sailor's dish from Veneto but not often seen Stateside. It's clear why it belongs on McNally's menu: it's simple, bold, filling and delicious. The Burrata Test, whereby a restaurant is judged on the quality of its burrata, is quickly surpassing the Bread/Olive Oil Test and McNally passed with flying colors. The burrata, like Clint Eastwood in Million Dollar Baby, was slightly tough on the outside and only revealed its soft tender creamy center with effort. 
The menu moves gracefully from soups, to antipasta, pasta, pasta with fish, risotto, fish and finally meat. For the next course, we tried the risotto frutti di bosco, brothy risotto with blackberries, blueberries and mushrooms of varying degrees of rarity. This and the salt cod with milk, anchovies and bay leaf, both were perfect equation of sweet and savory. The tartness of the blackberries undercutting the sweetness of the risotto in one, and the milk offsetting the anchovies and saltiness in the other.
As far as wine goes, the list is extensive and a boon to adventurous drinkers. The gimmick here is that there is a glass of wine from each of Italy's 20 regions. Hypothetically, though we don't recommend it, one could take a tasting tour of all of Italy in one sitting and on the, kinda, cheap. And as far as dessert goes, never been a strong suit of McNally's, the crepe with frutti di bosco and vanilla gelato is probably the best dessert in the whole empire since they took the Nutella Crepes off the Schiller's menu.
Sadly this next week or so will probably be the last time you'll be able to experience Morandi in all its informal simple charm. All of the man's restaurants become scenes sooner or later. Pastis is the worst, Schiller's at night is unbearable, and Balthazar is, well, makes us feel less-than in some way. (This has nothing to do with the food, which is uniformly wonderful.) Already, the place was filled with older men with deep pockets and no cachet and young lithe beautiful women who pick at their pasta and drink a lot of white wine.
Morandi [Gridskipper]
Morandi [Eater/Curbed Empire]
Previously: Chimu: Better Than Dumont, The Best Fried Food of New York City, David Chang: He's One Bad Momofuku
