Williamsburg's Little Italy

La Piazzetta
442 Graham Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11211
(718) 349-1627
www.lapiazzettany.com

IF YOU'RE LUCKY enough to be out on Graham Avenue on the right weekend morning, you might catch a glimpse of the Virgin. She's hard to miss. She'll be the Virgin carried on the shoulders of churchgoers, her presence heralded by a makeshift marching band that makes up for in sound what it lacks in size and formality. It's a sight of such tight-knit community devotion I'd imagine even an atheist might smile to see it.

This is Williamsburg's Little Italy--meat markets, pasta shops, pizza joints, men's clubs, and old world charm--stretching maybe a dozen blocks up Graham Avenue, perhaps only three or four blocks wide, nestled between the BQE and Bushwick. There are more famous Italian sections of Brooklyn; there are certainly larger ones. I would still think La Piazzetta must possess one of the better Italian kitchens among them.

Both beautiful and casual

Emerging from this kitchen, Chef Francesco Cuozzo greets his tables and recites his specials on most nights, as he can, as he did this evening. Mint and I did not settle on one of these (though his antipasta plate assembled from a spread of offerings set up alongside the kitchen wall was tempting), selecting instead a few plates of pasta, calamari, and a bottle of wine (lots of selections in the low $20 range). Everything at La Piazzetta is reasonably priced, and, given the quality, an excellent value.

My stupid cameraphone takes terrible low-light pictures, so I have none to show you. But the whole wheat fettuccine with eggplant was terrifically hearty, needless to say perfectly cooked, and the tomato sauce was amazingly sweet and flavorful. Mint raved about the pancetta that flavored the red sauce over her rigatoni. For a relaxed, reasonably casual restaurant that serves up Italian fare of such remarkable quality, you really can't do better that La Piazzetta.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: One of the few Italian places he'll visit expecting to get a great plate of pasta.

Photos courtesy comevisitbrooklyn.com and La Piazzetta.

Trading Basil for Buttons

ROXIE AND I had agreed to trade a basil plant some time ago. I planted the seeds a while back, but only recently had the sprouts reached a transplant-able size. So, in lieu of Roxie's recent sewing revival and my discovery of two shirts with missing buttons, the terms of the trade were made clearer, and dinner was offered to arrange a swap.

Since Roxie had suggested pasta, I agreed to drag along the fixings to make (what else) red sauce, and some leftover roasted red peppers and eggplant were thrown in on the side. We've discussed the red sauce process quite a bit as of late on this page, so for this particular occasion I'll just offer up some finished-product pictures:

I think we're all familiar with the how-to at this point

Mint joined us post-class to enjoy a plate, and Fezzik was on hand to prowl tableside and search for scraps. It should be noted that Fezzik is a Yorkshire terrier of only the purist bloodlines, which explains his stately, flopping right ear, distinguished underbite, and preference for chasing chenille tennis balls. Fezzik is a charmer.

Together, the four of us enjoyed a delicious meal in the company of friends, set to the sounds of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. As for the little basil plant now sitting in a window far from his seedling kin, Roxie promises it will write. For now, I'll leave you with a few more of this evening's pictures:

(Ed. note: A previous statement identifying Fezzik's heritage as Scottish has been corrected. Fezzik is a Yorkshire terrier.)

Tomato Sauce, v. 3.0

I CANNOT PRAISE this recipe enough. If the price, questionable nutritional value and bland taste of bottled tomato sauce is getting you down, then you really need to consider this recipe for red sauce as passed down through the Giacchino family. I'm revisiting this point because one thing was made clear to me today: the importance of basil.

First, however, I want to remind people how cheap and easy this all is. Can of Sclafani crushed tomatoes: $1.99; fresh basil: $2.50 per bunch; and one measly, single carrot: $0.25. This is what I'm assuming most people would need to purchase on the way home, where I suspect olive oil, garlic, salt, black pepper, crushed red pepper, and perhaps an onion are already waiting (onion optional). Now, $4.75 is what one might expect to pay for a decent pre-made bottle of basic red sauce, so this is not bad. Buy a couple extra cans of tomatoes, make a large batch, freeze a few containers, and you can see how this quickly becomes quite economical.

Garlic, basil, and onion--partners in tomato sauce deliciousness

And once you've procured your ingredients, the actual cooking part is stupid-easy. Anyone who can wield a knife is capable of slicing garlic, an onion, shaving a carrot, and roughly chopping a few leaves of basil. Just keep the heat low, lightly fry your garlic, onion, and a bit of basil in the olive oil, then dump in the rest. Let sit for an hour. Stir occassionaly. This is not daunting.

Combine, stir, and let simmer

Most importantly, and this is the reason I've dredged up the topic once again, you really do need fresh basil. This point is inescapable. We discussed the results using dried basil in my second experience with this recipe, and while the sauce was certainly edible it was lacking that sweet, savory flavor that makes fresh tomato sauce really yummy. If the price of basil turns you off, then buying a bunch and making a large batch, as mentioned above, is really the thing to do.

Keep it cheap by growing your own basil

You can use this nicely as a base for other ingredients, too, like cheeses or meats. Ours was simply poured over penne and served up with some sauteed zucchini. Aaron, who stopped by for some eats, was rather amazed that it was so easily homemade. Indeed it was.