Ah yes, the long silence ends. (*crowd cheers*) I thought it about time that I returned to the potato-y pastures and blessed the world with another installment of gnocchi critique...

This time it's a little restaurant in the East Village called Gnocco. A good friend and I wandered in there (literally months ago now) mostly because the name boded well that we would find some decent gnocchi on the menu. The place had recently opened, and we were among the only customers (although it was early in the eve) but were treated with enormous care by the (somewhat scattered but courteous) staff. Creatures of habit that we are, both of us ordered the gnocchi, which I dutifully photographed for the blog.


The texture was quite nice: delicate without being limp or soggy. I recall being a tad disappointed with the sauce, since it wasn't terribly robust. Where gnocchi is concerned I tend to prefer a sauce that's strong in flavor and chunky in consistency: with thick-cut tomatoes or mozzarella and lots of garlic, for instance. Potato can be pretty bland unless it's paired with...well, a condiment or topping with testículos if you will. It's also a question of what those in the food biz call "mouth feel": I eat gnocchi for the comfort-y bulk, the home-y squish, and it seems almost apologetic to pair it with a watery sauce. Do not shy away from the carb-aliciousness, the creamy cheesiness, the fiery garlic-ness, I say!!! Just throw it all in there and I'll drown my fear of coronary retribution with a nice Sangiovese.

Maybe since I visited Gnocco they've grown a pair and bulked up their sauce. Or perhaps I'm just a philistine who doesn't recognize authentic Italian when she inhales it. In any case, I plan to go back for another round at Gnocco cuz after all, there's no better excuse than this blog to gnosh on gnocchi.