There’s only one thing standing between you and the greatest sliced prosciutto you’ve ever eaten.
And that’s a single day. Like seven times.
Count yourself down for The Factory Kitchen, a new neighborhood pasta mill that’s hand-making gnocchi and shaving some remarkable cured meats, opening next Thursday Downtown.
What you’re going to do: drive a date to this secluded corner of the Arts District. Search for a 90-year-old warehouse. It should look like a 90-year-old warehouse. Enter. Find yourself in a large concrete room that’s accented with leather chairs, wooden tables and the aroma of Italian things being cooked by a longtime Valentino veteran.
Sit near the open kitchen... Shouldn’t be too hard since it’s smack-dab in the center of the space. Now order some sangiovese. Sip that while you take in the sights. And the duck ragù pappardelle.
Oh, and the prosciutto. Can’t forget the prosciutto. The stuff they’ve got here is aged 24 months, served with a side of lightly fried sage dough and shaved into little roses using a vintage, non-electric, hand-cranked deli slicer.
Yup, acoustic deli slicer.
And that’s a single day. Like seven times.
Count yourself down for The Factory Kitchen, a new neighborhood pasta mill that’s hand-making gnocchi and shaving some remarkable cured meats, opening next Thursday Downtown.
What you’re going to do: drive a date to this secluded corner of the Arts District. Search for a 90-year-old warehouse. It should look like a 90-year-old warehouse. Enter. Find yourself in a large concrete room that’s accented with leather chairs, wooden tables and the aroma of Italian things being cooked by a longtime Valentino veteran.
Sit near the open kitchen... Shouldn’t be too hard since it’s smack-dab in the center of the space. Now order some sangiovese. Sip that while you take in the sights. And the duck ragù pappardelle.
Oh, and the prosciutto. Can’t forget the prosciutto. The stuff they’ve got here is aged 24 months, served with a side of lightly fried sage dough and shaved into little roses using a vintage, non-electric, hand-cranked deli slicer.
Yup, acoustic deli slicer.
