For Elton John it was love. For me, it was dinner at the weensy West Village restaurant that has only about 30 seats and fills them promptly when reservations open a month in advance of a given night.
For years I’ve listened to my colleagues rave about The Little Owl's meatball sliders, the exquisite fresh fish, the pork that tastes like pork did before it became “the other white meat,” the homey desserts, and, in chef-co-owner Joey Campanaro’s words, “the love” that goes into all the food.
During my recent trip to New York for the James Beard Awards, I was finally able to snag a table and add my voice to those singing The Little Owl’s praises. (By the way, I did book the table a month ahead of time. And the restaurant does set aside a couple of two-tops for walk-ins every night.)
The Little Owl may not be for everyone – I know plenty of folks who’d whine about the tight space and high noise level – but my son and I reveled in the quaint coziness of the space, the sunny disposition of the servers, the contagious joy and animated conversation of our fellow diners. This is one happy happening place.
We also oohed, aahed and smacked our lips through a good-size chunk of the menu. A salad of bibb lettuce and beets, dressed up with frilly frisee, toasted pumpkin seeds and parmesan, was remarkable for its elegance and the perfect balance of the sherry vinaigrette. A smooth, spring-green broccoli soup featured two luscious bacon cheddar crouton “rafts.”
My son marveled over his savory lamb shank that arrived on a pillow of creamy goat cheese-fluffed potatoes. But, by that time, I only had eyes for my own Tautog. Not familiar with the beast? Neither was I. But thanks to Campanaro, I now know that the tautog swims along the Eastern seaboard, always near the bottom, among rocks. Its high-fat diet translates into a sweet flavor. Campanaro pan-sauteed the filet and crowned it with an aromatic “salad” of perfect cherry tomatoes, cucumber, avocado, garlic, lemon zest and fresh thyme. It was, in a word, brilliant…and it’s already on my Best of 2011 list.
By the way, we didn’t succumb to the meatball mania for which Little Owl is known. The darlings, pictured here in a Bon Appetit photo by Noel Barnhurst, are fashioned from beef, pork and veal, simmered with tomatoes, onion, basil, garlic and fennel seeds, and dusted with pecorino before being perched precariously on a tiny shiny garlic bun. Next time….
The Owl's desserts are noteworthy, too. A lovely rhubarb crisp was topped with mascarpone gelato, and the ricotta cheesecake, fluffed up with egg whites and mascarpone, was ethereal.
The wine list is limited, but interesting. Our server suggested two wines that I was happy to make the acquaintance of: a crisp Verdejo from Spain, with pleasing tropical notes but enough minerality to let it do aperitif duty (no hard alcohol at Little Owl); and a Blaufränkisch (from Judith Beck of Austria’s Burgenland region) that I liked for its elegant structure and spicy, dark berry flavors.
Appetizers at The Little Owl average about $9; entrees hover around the $26 mark. The restaurant, at 90 Bedford Street, is open for dinner nightly. Little Owl – The Venue, billed as an event space and culinary showroom, recently opened a few blocks away.
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