Restaurant Review: Missy Robbins’ Lowest Pasta Paradiso

Despite the dozen pasta shapes available in the to-go case, Misipasta only has two pastas on the menu, but two is enough. The spaghetti, subtle and nourishing, is cooked just on the severe al dente side, then tossed in garlic butter emulsified with the starchy pasta cooking water and sprinkled with grated bottarga and crispy breadcrumbs. Luscious cappelletti – filled, folded pasta that looks a bit like oversized tortellini – is filled with a heady mix of parmesan, ricotta, mascarpone and prosciutto, dressed simply with butter and sage and arranged neatly in a small terracotta with straight sides. bowl. It’s the kind of pasta dish you always crave without even realizing it, the kind of pasta you just want to put in your mouth, but its size and weight force you to slow down, to not think about it. per bowl but bite by bite. . There is often a third dough available only for takeout orders, a ball of tiny pastina (star-shaped micro-pasta) in a container of broth, golden and intense, and so rich in collagen that it leaves your lips sticky. It’s the kind of powerful, soul-nourishing, complex noodle-in-broth situation that Campbell’s Chicken Star Soup always hopes to see when she looks in the mirror, before resigning herself to the disappointments of reality.

I’m a little afraid that Misipasta’s secret will be exposed, that the friendly, neighborhood atmosphere of the place will tighten like a corset, and that it will become yet another impossible-to-enter room behind the digital. Resy app doors. But the store and restaurant are open most of the day, from 11 a.m. AM or 3 PM you can drop by easily and have the place practically to yourself – and, when the weather warms up a bit, the large, beautifully landscaped backyard will reopen, almost doubling the seating capacity. Have an espresso, fruity and bitter. Enjoy a slice of crispy farinata, a pancake made with chickpea flour and lace edges flavored with rosemary. Savor one of the city’s great secret sandwiches, a huge mess of marinated and grilled artichoke hearts, spiked with hot peppers and barely held together by oozing provolone cheese. Buy a pint of Robbins Hazelnut Satin Ice Cream. Pick up a pound of pasta – frilly lumache or long tubes of paccheri – and a jar of thirty-clove sauce, heady with garlic. You won’t make pasta as good as Robbins’ at home – even with the same ingredients, even with the same tools, some things just have to penetrate down to the depths of your bones – but it doesn’t hurt to to try. ♦