I = Italian Grannies

This week took us to Staten Island for the very first, and I can pretty much guarantee, last time. Ticked the box. We were off to Enoteca Maria www.enotecamaria.com a restaurant made semi-famous in NYC due to the kitchen staff consisting not of underpaid, overworked Mexicans as in most NYC kitchens, but bona fide Nonnas. These nine little ladies work on a rosta ruling the roost and sometimes a special guest granny drops in to cook up a storm when visiting from the Motherland. They cook up mama’s special dishes, some are hush hush secret squirrel recipes handed down through the generations, others are the good ol’ classics, wash it all down with a bottle of two of Valpolicella and bob’s your uncle, happy days.

Our 26 Weeks joiners this week were the delightful and daring Will and Shirin. We jumped on the free Staten Island Ferry (where in the world do you get a free ferry ride, love that) on which you can buy beer don’t you know. One Heineken later sipped at the sticky formica bar with the smell of pee wafting around and we were ready to stretch out our waistbands and send our cholesterol levels soaring. As we departed the ferry we noticed some rather ahem interesting ads, one real eye-catcher extolled the merits of the Island – “Come back and visit us soon for the best cancer care in New York”, a little chemo with your chianti perhaps.

Enoteca Maria is a 5 min walk from the ferry terminal, it’s quite small and you should definitely book. On arrival we were happy to see that we were going to be the only tourists that night, clearly we were lacking the de rigueur acrylic nails and volumised “do” and the boys had neglected to sport a custom made gold chain nestled in a thick chest of hair. Cliché you may say, oh yes I say and I couldn’t be happier about that. As Staten Island has a higher percentage of Italian-Americans than any other county in the United States, I was expecting, and hoping, to have a real old-school Italian experience and that’s what we got. The fact that we were British seemed to be ok too, after last week’s experience I was a little self aware, coupled with the fact that Staten Island was where the British government reportedly received their first notification of the Declaration of Independence in the 1700s, starting the kick-out the Brits campaign. What a contrast to our frat boy experience last week though, everyone was uber friendly, we were off to a great start.

The ordering began, there were a few questionable delicacies, such as Zampe di Gallina - chicken feet in a spicy tomato sauce and Capuzzelle al Forno – half a stuffed sheep’s head. Of course, that’s what Simon ordered and I’m eternally grateful to him for that, I got to see it and smell it but not have to try it to tell the tale. The good stuff: burrata was out of this world melt in the mouth, the meatballs were to die for, the branzino was tasty, the rabbit was polished off and the pasta was comforting. Not so comforting were said feet and head. The chicken’s feet freaked us out a tad, they really looked like ET’s hand and seeing that being gnawed with red sauce on top was more than us ladies were prepared for. The sheep’s head, well what can I say about that, I don’t know whether it was the scooping out of the brains or the removal of the teeth to get to the good stuff in the gums that was more unsettling. The lady at the next table shuddered to see Simon picking the old bonce apart, she remembered having to pick up the sheep’s head for dinner when she was a little girl and vowed never to eat it again, her hubby informed us that if you went to the butcher and got the head with one blue eye you’d always be cursed. Simon had already polished off the eye and we didn’t remember it having a blueish tint but I guess time will tell.

Sheeps Head

Sheeps head after Simon ate it

At this point I have to comment on the eclectic music, we literally went on a musical tour around the world, first stop Australia for a little didgeridoo, then back to America for some 80s soft rock, off to Italy for some classic opera Pavarotti stylee, off to Brazil for a little samba and back to Berlin for some banging techno. Joe the owner certainly knows how to mix up the old playlist. Something for everyone was definitely his MO.

After being treated to a freebie hazlenut chocolate cheesecake (scrumptious) we met our wonderful Nonna of the Night - Adelena Masana who was born and raised in Naples, she came to America in 1990, lives in Brooklyn and has six kiddie winkles.

We left full and happy, our last stop was the bar a couple of doors down, we met the Polish locals, played dice on the bar, necked a few sambucas, had a little swing dancing show from Will and Shirin then boarded the Ferry back to our Motherland. Well not really but we’ll pretend it is for now. As we raced towards the glittering lights of that iconic Manhattan skyline, drinking ferry beer out of a paper cup, we broke into a little Jay Z "Empire State of Mind" sing-song...

“These streets will make you feel brand new
Big lights will inspire you
Hear it for New York, New York, New York”. Nuff said.