I can’t wait to return to Borgo (124 E. 27th Street). Neither will you after your first meal at the best new Italian restaurant for grown-ups in many a Neapolitan, Abbruzzese or Roman moon.
Its accessible, regions-roaming menu scored high on all but one of fourteen dishes I had in every category. It offers a richly seasoned, meticulously turned-out kaleidoscope of familiar Italian pleasures made new.
Owner Andrew Tarlow was a driving force behind Brooklyn’s culinary revolution, from Diner under the Williamsburg Bridge approach to Roman’s in Fort Greene. I miss his long-gone Reynard in the Wythe Hotel, too.
But 140-seat Borgo, his first foray into Manhattan and his first new place anywhere in ten years, is more grown-up, both in kitchen consistency and comfort level — although it’s almost as noisy despite white tablecloths and reasonably-spaced tables.
Tarlow audaciously chose the site of much-loved I Trulli, which drew crowds for nearly thirty years before it fell to the pandemic in 2022.
Although he replaced I Trulli’s bones with finely crafted new materials, it looks much like its predecessor, down to the wood-burning oven, which got only a fresh paint job.
The layout’s familiar: two large dining rooms with arched ceilings, the original I Trulli bar at the front and a colorfully lit rear garden. My favorite places to sit are the booths that face the bustling open kitchen and hearth in the side room, where the din is relatively softer.
Chef Jordan Frosolone, a veteran of the Momofuku empire and Marco Canora’s Hearth, evokes I Trulli’s rustic spirit and greatly improves on it. The house focaccia is a crackling, tomato-free spin on the Ligurian original with Robiola and Fontina cheeses tucked between thin sheets of dough. Enjoy it sparingly or you’ll be too full to go on.
Anchovies from Italy and Spain, spine-free and served with spicy pink Neonata butter, are worth a visit alone. Rounds of candy-like delicata squash are crackling crisp, sprinkled with Pecorino cheese, honey-drizzled and spiked with chile.
Among the pastas ($29 to $34), the most thrilling is timballo di Anelletti, a drum-shaped, pie-like affair filled with braised beef cheeks and ricotta salata.
Depending on which history you believe, its origins are either in Abruzzo or Palermo, Sicily. Frosolone’s version is said to be inspired by a dish Stanley Tucci cooked in “Big Night.” But it’s so good, I couldn’t care if it came from Mars.
The jus-rich chicken is roasted in the wood-fired oven; it’s a rare specimen where white meat came through as moist and juicy as the dark.
But my No. 1 choice is an inch-plus-thick, house-made pork sausage seasoned with fennel and chili served with Umbrian lentils. It looks thick enough to use as a weapon but under the casing, it’s almost as light on the tongue as French boudin blanc — a miraculous fusion of flavor and texture. At $29, it’s also the cheapest main course, with the braised veal shank and whole branzino (both $64) being the priciest.
For dessert, don’t miss pistachio Affogato. If you worry the coffee will keep you up at night, Pecorino Fiorello — a mild sheep’s cheese served with sunflower honey — will make you sleep like a baby, and make you want to come back for more.
