I Trulli

January is FoxyLady's birthday month, which means time to celebrate. The last time the three lush-keteers (FoxyLady, BermudaBabe and myself) got together for a birthday dinner, this happened.

FoxyLady recently turned 27, but I was in Puerto Vallarta for a friend's wedding. I felt bad I was missing the festivities until she told me her mom, a flight attendant, was flying her first class to Buenos Aires for some pampering. A two hour massage in Buenos Aires costs a mere $35. I didn't know how BermudaBabe and I would compete with a first class ticket to Buenos Aires, or a two hour massage, but we were up to the challenge.

When I discovered it was restaurant week, I shuddered with dread. Restaurant week means one of two things. First, the restaurant vampires, or New Yorkers who don't eat out regularly, come out in droves for the weeklong affair, crowd the city's tables and usually demand more attention with their prix fixe meals than the Queen does at Buckingham Palace teatime. Second, it is my experience that the prix fixe is misleading and you're better off finding more quantity and quality at a non-participating restaurant. I have had one truly memorable restaurant week meal at Eleven Madison Park with Swimster. But I also remember his eyes popping out of his sockets when he looked at the bill. Yes, restaurant week food can be quite good, if not excellent, but don't expect to walk away saving enough money to put away for that Aspen ski vacation. Chances are you'll leave feeling a lot poorer and tempted to get a cone of fries at Pommes Frites.

I looked at the list of participating restaurants and none jumped out at me, until I noticed i Trulli. I Trulli is the restaurant of the Italian wine bar Enoteca i Trulli that I went to once with Winette. I didn't see what the restaurant looked like, but I loved what I tried at Enoteca and figured we would enjoy a full meal there. BermudaBabe loved the idea, especially since she had to make a train at Grand Central a few blocks away.

I was the first one to arrive at i Trulli, having just hopped off a train from Connecticut. I may be 27, but that doesn't mean I've outgrown heading home to do laundry. There were almost too many hostesses at the front of i Trulli; they had a hard time deciding who was in charge of what. One asked me if I had reservations, one asked me if I was meeting anyone, one asked me if I wanted to check my coat, and in my case, luggage, and still another asked me if I had reservations. I handed my heavy bag to one of the women and made my escape to Enoteca, where I would wait until my friends arrived.

Luckily the bar wasn't crowded and I found a seat very easily. Unfortunately, the luck stopped there. I sat for several minutes with no drink. I looked around, tried getting the bartender's attention, and looked around some more. Finally, when the bartender did notice me, I couldn't order because I didn't have a wine menu. At any other place, I would have asked for a glass of cab, but with hundreds of choices at Enoteca, I wanted to look at the menu.

There was an elderly lady sitting at the end of the bar by herself. She had a weathered Italian look, and her hair was elegantly swept up on her head. There weren't a lot of people sitting at the bar and she could sense my frustration with the bartender. She nodded at me and smiled. She placed her order and I whispered in her direction, "You might as well order two at the rate he's going."

She looked at me blankly with a forced smile, and I thought, "Oh God, it's her son." Open mouth, insert foot. Once again my big mouth gets the better of me. I put my fingers to my hair and swiveled on my stool so I didn't have to face her unamused reaction to my comment. Though I ordered my glass of wine, I had yet to receive my glass.

A few minutes later, the maitre d' walked in and went straight to the corner where the lady was sitting. She whispered something to him, he turned and looked at me and asked me where my drink was.

"Scott! Have you helped this nice young lady?" he yelled.

I died. I wanted to crawl into a hole of mortification.

"Yah, I'm right on it," the bartender replied.

The elderly woman winked at me, "You mentioned something to the right person," she said. It appeared she was friendly with the host.

FoxyLady came in and we decided to go to our table, hoping BermudaBabe would find us. I had no idea how big i Trulli was. I thought there was only one dining room. Turns out there are two large dining rooms and a third room in the back that appears to be open in the summertime. The back room was covered in white lights dangling from the ceiling, giving it a very festive feel perfect for our celebrating purposes.

Once BermudaBabe arrived, the triangle was complete and it was time for some food and wine. BermudaBabe and I wanted to hear all about Buenos Aires, while FoxyLady and I wanted to discuss BermudaBabe's upcoming wedding in June. There was a lot to talk about, but a lot to eat.
I saw cavatelli on the menu and had to order it. It's my favorite pasta, besides the other pasta on the menu, pappardelle, which BermudaBabe ordered as an entree. The cavatelli was an appetizer served with broccoli rabe and crushed, roasted almonds.

The cavatelli was so thick and doughy it tasted more like gnocchi. I love gnocchi but this dish was a lot heavier than what I expected. It was extremely rich for an appetizer. After I saw my entree I wish I had ordered the two dishes in reverse.

FoxyLady and BermudaBabe ordered the chick pea fritter with goat cheese over a mixed salad of organic greens. I've never had chick pea fritters and I stole a bite of FoxyLady's. They were delicious, almost like a warm, soft, fried green tomato. I loved this salad and hope I can order it on i Trulli's normal menu.


BermudaBabe ordered the hand-cut pappardelle with tomato, roasted eggplant and ricotta. Hers looked delicious but FoxyLady and I were embarrassed at how small her portion was. We kept trying to spoon-feed her parts of our own meal so she would actually feel like she ate a meal.


I ordered the mahi mahi sauteed with capers, lemon and white wine with swiss chard. The fish was hot and tender, but it felt like they cut the portion in half before they put it on my plate. The swiss chard was warm and a little crunchy and I enjoyed it with the mild fish. The lemon sautee was perfect for dipping in the bread they kept refilling for us. The fresh focaccia was the hit of the bread basket.


FoxyLady ordered the marinated and roasted skirt steak served with peperonata. Hers was the heartiest meal on the table and we all wished we ordered it ourselves.


For dessert, we tried each of the three choices: a dark chocolate pudding flavored with pepperoncino, ricotta cheesecake with citrus, and coconut pannacotta with aglianico wine reduction.

We were thrilled with each dessert option. The sweet coconut, the bitter chocolate, and the smooth and creamy cheesecake made the perfect dessert medley. The final course definitely made up for the rather small main course, which felt more like a tease than a main meal.

The service was excellent at i Trulli. Our server took excellent care of us. Our water and wine glasses were constantly refilled, nobody had to get their elbows in dirty plates, and we enjoyed a round of coffee to top it off.

Despite its mouse-like portions, we all enjoyed the dinner and company at i Trulli.

Moral of the post: restaurant week, while it may provide you with a good sense of a restaurant's offerings, is all about tight rationing. The real deal of the day remains in Buenos Aires at the massage parlor.

122 E. 27th St., between Lexington and Park Ave.
212-481-7372