By Abigael T. Sidi
Sooo, here it is, the long-feared swan song! When confronted with the reality that it was time to write my last Dish column, I became overwhelmed with a wide variety of emotions – from sadness, nostalgia, and an ever-so-slight bit of relief, to a shocking amount of pressure. How could I possibly decide which restaurant to rest my case on? The stress consumed me all month until the answer finally came. It had been right in front of me the entire time: the love of my young culinary life, Carmine’s.
As I presume to be the case for most Upper West Siders, I practically grew up on Carmine’s. It’s plain, old-school, “red sauce” Italian food: no-fuss but smack-down delicious, generous, and lovingly homey. It accommodates carnivores, vegetarians, vegans, and the gluten-free alike with its large, diverse menu. It was my first choice for every birthday party and big celebration, and I have vivid memories of every time I’ve dined there.
Those who have been lucky enough to experience Carmine’s know that it truly is just that: an experience. No matter what day you find yourself there, there will inevitably be about 20 other birthdays, engagements, or graduations being celebrated at the same time. Your dinner WILL be interrupted approximately every five minutes for a routine performance of the “Happy Birthday” song by the staff, who never fail to make every person feel special. The culture of Carmine’s is so enforced that if you show up with a large group, they will automatically assume that someone is being celebrated.
So on Saturday night, I came with five of my best friends, and was promptly asked whose birthday it was. (No one’s, but it was a celebration nonetheless—college decisions, terminal senioritis, and final prep for this final piece). We sat down at one of the many large tables of the central dining room, looking at the menu for all of two seconds before we decided on what to get: one Caesar salad ($29.95), one penne alla vodka ($38.95), and the final boss of all desserts, the one and only Titanic ($36.95).
Carmine’s operates under a strict “family style” policy, where every single main course is offered in a large portion size. Your server will undoubtedly tell you that one plate of pasta only accommodates four people, but as a Carmine’s specialist, I can tell you that if you intend on eating anything other than pasta during your meal, a group of six will be more than satisfied by one plate. So, for all the prices mentioned above, confidently divide by 6 for an accurate count of your final contribution to the bill, tips excluded – Caesar+pasta+Titanic=$17.50, a GREAT deal.
Our meal started with the Caesar, my favorite dish at Carmine’s. An abundance of crisp romaine lettuce and golden croutons are tossed in a traditional creamy Parmigiano-Reggiano and Romano cheese dressing, with the option of anchovies on top, on the side, or entirely removed. The dressing is expertly distributed in the salad; no leaf is too soggy, no leaf is completely dry, and the croutons retain their crispiness while still having a touch of heavenly Caesar flavor.
I would like to say that while this dish can be easily replicated (my recipe, inherited from Dad, does a more than acceptable job), there’s something about Carmine’s dressing that sets it apart from every other Caesar I’ve ever had. It must have the traditional ingredients—those being egg yolks, olive oil, Parmesan, lemon juice, Dijon, garlic, anchovies, coarsely crushed black pepper, and Worcestershire sauce—but I just know that they have a special secret ingredient. If anyone has an idea as to what that might be, please let me know. Capers maybe?
After devouring the Caesar, we enjoyed a perfectly adequate penne alla vodka. The pasta isn’t homemade, and I’d be lying if I said that Carmine’s has the best version on the Upper West Side. But the creamy vodka sauce is, like the dressing on the Caesar, well distributed amongst the extremely large portion of classic penne pasta, and very delicious and velvety in its own right. It’s heavy on the garlic, for great character and depth, with some small roasted pieces making their way into a couple of bites. The pasta is cooked slightly al dente, making for a satisfactory, filling meal.
Last but certainly not least, we have the Titanic. The best words I could use to describe the dessert are ginormous, impressive, and intimidating. There’s nothing quite like watching the Titanic approach your table. Even though it was not my birthday, the Carmine’s staff knew about this special occasion, and brought it over with a couple of candles and a “Congratulations” song. I’m telling you, this is the place to go to be happy.
As for the Titanic itself, it’s a fudgy, flourless chocolate torte sitting beneath at least 10 scoops of chocolate and vanilla ice cream, topped with double that amount of whipped cream. The main hull is decorated with strawberries, hazelnuts, hot fudge, chocolate syrup, candied pineapple (which my group opted to remove), and one banana (split in half). In all honesty, my friends and I barely ate half of it. Score of the night: Titanic, 1; the 6 of us, 0. The Titanic remains undefeated.
Carmine’s is large and dimly lit, quintessential old-school NYC Italian. As previously mentioned, most of the tables are family size, all dressed in the required and classy white tablecloths and attended by equally classy, traditionally dressed servers. The main dining room is up a small flight of stairs, with the bottom floor designated for a small bar and waiting area (according to Dad, it serves the “hardest” Manhattan in town, which is why he somehow always shows up earlier than everyone else and is in a great mood when we arrive). Despite the size of the space, Carmine’s is definitely not quiet. Alongside the frequent song breaks (which you must join in on; it’s Carmine’s etiquette), there seem to be at least 100 people in there at all times, engaging in their own conversations.
Carmine’s is open every weekday from 11:30 a.m. to 10 p.m., and closes a little later on weekends (11 p.m.). Pick-up and delivery are available at these times, and use the restaurant’s own ordering platform to limit fees. We’ve had hiccups with delivery in the past, and you might have seen my friends and me carrying bags upon bags of Carmine’s along Broadway in such instances. (It’s the only place for which I’d ever resort to such desperate measures!)
And so that’s it: This completes my 75th and last Dish review (for now, at least). I want to thank my editors Ann Cooper, Laura Muha, and Gus Saltonstall for their incredible mentorship, dedication and patience; Bob and Carol Tannenhauser for taking a chance on me (at the time of my first piece for the Rag, I was a mere 14 years old); my Dad, Mom, Sis’ and friends for their great advice and help on so many pieces; and most importantly, every single one of my readers for the past two years. It has been a true honor to interact with all of you through these articles, and even further through the comments section. This column has expanded my appreciation not just for food, but for journalism, culture, and most of all, community, and I’m excited to keep exploring restaurants as I leave for college. (Cambridge, here I come!).
Don’t forget about me, WSR readers: Ce n’est qu’un au revoir, I love you, and will be back soon!
The Dishes: Caesar Salad ($29.95), Penne a la Vodka ($38.95), and Titanic ($36.95), each enough for 4-6 people.
The Restaurant: Carmine’s, 2450 Broadway (between West 90th and 91st Streets)
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