If patience is a virtue, this panini place is the most virtuous fucking thing in this city.
It’s Antico Noè, a Florence, Italy, sandwich spot that’s decided to settle its second-ever location in Midtown East, after 71 years. It’s open now.
To elaborate a little bit, in 1945 the Florence spot opened. Then many things happened: Elvis. The Simpsons. Gorbachev. Inadequate Facebook emojis. Then this.
Off the top of our heads, lunch comes to mind as the time you’ll most desire what they’ve got to offer. Ten different panini (see the menu), including the #23, which is spicy salami, marinated sun-dried tomatoes, brie and pesto, and the #13, marinated eggplant, roasted onions, artichokes, marinated sun-dried tomatoes, olive spread and pesto (both you can, and want to, see here).
The meats and cheeses are direct from Italy, because America just isn’t as good at meats and cheeses for panini. But the produce is from local spots, because that’s what America demands.
Us crazy kids.
It’s Antico Noè, a Florence, Italy, sandwich spot that’s decided to settle its second-ever location in Midtown East, after 71 years. It’s open now.
To elaborate a little bit, in 1945 the Florence spot opened. Then many things happened: Elvis. The Simpsons. Gorbachev. Inadequate Facebook emojis. Then this.
Off the top of our heads, lunch comes to mind as the time you’ll most desire what they’ve got to offer. Ten different panini (see the menu), including the #23, which is spicy salami, marinated sun-dried tomatoes, brie and pesto, and the #13, marinated eggplant, roasted onions, artichokes, marinated sun-dried tomatoes, olive spread and pesto (both you can, and want to, see here).
The meats and cheeses are direct from Italy, because America just isn’t as good at meats and cheeses for panini. But the produce is from local spots, because that’s what America demands.
Us crazy kids.
