You and Garfield have a lot in common.
Your sparkling wit.
An uncanny ability to pull off orange.
And, by God, a powerful lust for lasagna.
The key difference: you’re real and he’s not, and that means you can sate that powerful lust right here...
Welcome to Pastai, a humble abode of homemade pasta and general proclamations of “mmmmm,” opening in Chelsea Monday.
There’s no use in fighting it. This weekend belongs to the Irish. But next week: Southern Italian pasta. Delicious, open-kitchen-made pasta. Pasta with ragùs that include three different animals’ worth of meat. Pasta that is served until 3am on Saturdays. Just... all the things pasta can do for a person—they’re covered here.
Bring anyone who likes Negronis and busiate with chicken sausage. Skip the tiled bar to your right. Grab one of those charming little blond-wood two-tops near the far end of the kitchen. Exchange a nod with the big guy sitting solemnly over his bowl of beef-pork-lamb gravy. Open the menu. Oh man, there’s a daily changing lasagna. Today, it might be squid ink with octopus. Tomorrow: baby meatballs. You’re in trouble.
Breakfast is coming, too. Basically, they’ve replaced oatmeal with polenta and topped it with cinnamon, honey, taleggio cheese or a poached egg.
You know, a nice light breakfast.
Your sparkling wit.
An uncanny ability to pull off orange.
And, by God, a powerful lust for lasagna.
The key difference: you’re real and he’s not, and that means you can sate that powerful lust right here...
Welcome to Pastai, a humble abode of homemade pasta and general proclamations of “mmmmm,” opening in Chelsea Monday.
There’s no use in fighting it. This weekend belongs to the Irish. But next week: Southern Italian pasta. Delicious, open-kitchen-made pasta. Pasta with ragùs that include three different animals’ worth of meat. Pasta that is served until 3am on Saturdays. Just... all the things pasta can do for a person—they’re covered here.
Bring anyone who likes Negronis and busiate with chicken sausage. Skip the tiled bar to your right. Grab one of those charming little blond-wood two-tops near the far end of the kitchen. Exchange a nod with the big guy sitting solemnly over his bowl of beef-pork-lamb gravy. Open the menu. Oh man, there’s a daily changing lasagna. Today, it might be squid ink with octopus. Tomorrow: baby meatballs. You’re in trouble.
Breakfast is coming, too. Basically, they’ve replaced oatmeal with polenta and topped it with cinnamon, honey, taleggio cheese or a poached egg.
You know, a nice light breakfast.
