You’ve been under a lot of pressure lately.
Pressure to eat. Pressure to drink. Pressure to be 68% more merry than usual.
It’s time to go someplace and take a load off.
Someplace where the chandeliers are painted gold, the clocks are set to Potenza time and the pizzas have red wine in them.
We’ve seen that place. And it’s heavenly.
Meet La Tagliatella, the first outpost on American soil from the Italian thunderdome for fat reds, Neapolitan pies and ungodly amounts of pasta, opening tomorrow afternoon in Midtown.
It’s all maroon and gold and sexy in here. It’s like some grandiose Verona home from back in the day—gold-colored chandeliers everywhere. Never-ending maroon banquettes. Hand-carved wooden ceiling tiles.
So go ahead and grab some sort of date. Strut around like you own the place. Hit that giant zinc bar over to your left for a round of Peronis before demanding the showiest table in the house (it’s in that rotunda with all the floor-to-ceiling windows). Oh, and everything’s meant to be shared. So share a Neapolitan pie (the Di Paté with foie gras should do). Then share a bowl of beef-and-pork ravioli in mushroom sauce. Maybe a wink if there’s time.
And if that all sounds like something you’d be into, well, good news. They’re opening another one at Emory Point by New Year’s.
Maybe Rome was built in a day.
Pressure to eat. Pressure to drink. Pressure to be 68% more merry than usual.
It’s time to go someplace and take a load off.
Someplace where the chandeliers are painted gold, the clocks are set to Potenza time and the pizzas have red wine in them.
We’ve seen that place. And it’s heavenly.
Meet La Tagliatella, the first outpost on American soil from the Italian thunderdome for fat reds, Neapolitan pies and ungodly amounts of pasta, opening tomorrow afternoon in Midtown.
It’s all maroon and gold and sexy in here. It’s like some grandiose Verona home from back in the day—gold-colored chandeliers everywhere. Never-ending maroon banquettes. Hand-carved wooden ceiling tiles.
So go ahead and grab some sort of date. Strut around like you own the place. Hit that giant zinc bar over to your left for a round of Peronis before demanding the showiest table in the house (it’s in that rotunda with all the floor-to-ceiling windows). Oh, and everything’s meant to be shared. So share a Neapolitan pie (the Di Paté with foie gras should do). Then share a bowl of beef-and-pork ravioli in mushroom sauce. Maybe a wink if there’s time.
And if that all sounds like something you’d be into, well, good news. They’re opening another one at Emory Point by New Year’s.
Maybe Rome was built in a day.
