Riposo 72

I miss Winette. It's been a while since we've had a lush and gush session. About a month ago, she sent me a sad e-mail regarding her cat Patrick's health. He has cancer and she's pumping him with steroids to ward off his pain and suffering. We haven't had a chance to hang out in a while because of her nursing duties, but I hope I get to see her very soon, even if it's to hang out in her apartment to keep Patrick company.

I grew up in a house full of pets: Paddy the Playful was our first golden retriever, Mickey the Mighty was our first stubborn tabby, Toby the Tank was our first (hopefully not last) Bernese mountain dog, and we still have Tucker the Tenacious, our massive Maine coon. Think Powder. I cannot imagine growing up without either of these characters. Each day in the city I struggle not having a dog or a cat to come home to, but I know it's not feasible right now. I can barely pay my food and lodging bills, let alone the bills for a pet's care. Someday Gatsby the Great, a strapping red and white old English bulldog, will be mine. Much like a future boyfriend, I know he'll come around one of these days.

I am a huge animal lover, bordering on sick. I saved a fly from my apartment this morning. No joke. I also saved a pigeon a couple of weeks ago. Had I stumbled into a cockroach in my apartment or in my travels, it would have been a different story. I would have grabbed a brown bag and called the paramedics. I thought I was intense about animals until I met Winette. I'm animal lover 3.0 to her animal lover 7.7. She's completely vegetarian, she belongs to several wildlife conservation groups and she's so fanatical about penguins it's part of her e-mail and she's been on a cruise in the Antarctic to study the little buggers.

While she adores penguins, Winette is also the biggest feline fiend I've ever met. She doesn't have children, but treats Patrick like he's a son. He has led a happy and spoiled life with Winette and she must be a wreck over the thought of losing him. My thoughts and prayers are with them both.

Winette and I met for drinks before she found out Patrick was sick. It was one of those Sundays where I woke up in the morning with a slight hangover and decided I was going to get out and do something with my day, instead of waste it on the couch. Later in the afternoon, I texted Winette a frantic "Where are you? What are you doing?" She and her husband were drinking near their UES apartment and she said she'd be right over. I offered to cross town to meet them and she wouldn't have it.

"See you at Riscupo in 15," she said.

"OK!"

I thought I heard the name right until I headed to 72nd and found nothing of the sort. I tried calling information asking for any variation of Riscupo, Rispuco, Ricoso, Rivoso and nothing. I called her back for help.

"Where is it?" Lordie.

"72nd between Central Park West and Columbus."

"OK, and it's Ricoso?"

"Riposo. Ree-POH-so. P as in Paris."

"Aaaah, that makes sense."

I walked in and the place was as empty as Lexington Avenue on a summer Saturday. There were two or three people at the bar, a lone couple at the far end of the restaurant and me. I grabbed a comfy corner spot at the bar and was in shock I'd never been to this little hideaway wine bar a short six blocks from my office. The only excuse I can come up with is it's tucked away on 72nd so I hadn't noticed it before on one of my several walks to and from work along Columbus.

Riposo is small and the exposed brick adds to its cozy, intimate feel. It has the wine bar high chairs and tables I love. It's a place I want to frequent. My roommate and I were discussing dining alone and how we'd like to take up the habit. I think Riposo would be a perfect spot to curl up with a book and a bordeaux. One friendly gentleman next to us was doing it, why can't I?

Winette arrived and we dove into some whites. We always start with whites then graduate to reds. The bartender was extremely friendly and offered us tastes of each wine without even asking if we wanted them. This may or may not have had something to do with Winette spilling the beans about my food blog.

Chris Tucker's line from "Rush Hour," but varied, almost came out, "Did you understand the words that are coming out of your mouf?!"

I shot Winette a death stare, and she responded with that satisfied "this is going to be good" look and that was that.

This arugula and goat cheese salad with a balsamic vinaigrette broke our hearts for any future goat cheese salads. It was perfect to share and had the right amount of dressing and cheese. The fact that I could make this simply at home did not alter my appreciation for its deliciousness.


Prosciutto-wrapped asparagus came next. How have I not known this combo is killer? I like prosciutto on just about everything but gelato and I never thought to wrap it around asparagus? Embarrassing. The asparagus were crunchy and the prosciutto was warm. The best part was the half-melted grated parmesan on top.

And last but not least, the pieces, or pizza, de resistance. For me, the crust was the highlight. It wasn't so thin that it didn't stand up to the toppings and it wasn't too thick that I got dry mouth after eating one slice. We ordered a pie with wild mushrooms, peppers, goat cheese and parmigiano reggiano. Apart from Pala, this is my new favorite thin crust pizza to date.

The bartender, Aaron, was a love and proceeded to spoil us with not one, but two, desserts. Whether you plan on eating or just having a sip of wine, Aaron alone is worth a stop into Riposo. He was just as sweet as the warm chocolate torte cup with berries and fresh whipped cream he served up.

When Aaron mentioned chocolate bread pudding as a special dessert option, I couldn't pass it up, even if it wasn't ready for the eating. We stuck around until it was and it was worth it. I highly recommend sharing a dessert here unless you plan on training for the NYC marathon. I can't imagine eating them by yourself. They'd be a filling meal.

I've been to a couple of the upper west side wine bars Barcibo Enoteca, Bin 71, Wine and Roses, Pudding Stones and Buceo 95. Riposo is laid back, low-key, less crowded and less claustrophobic than any of its competition. It's appropriate that riposo means rest in Italian. It now sits in the cushy spot as my no. 2 favorite wine bar in the area, behind Buceo. Buceo wins by default because it's within a 10-block radius of my apartment.

A co-worker just e-mailed me, "I want to go with you on one of your restaurant sojourns!" I told her about Riposo and it sounds like we may have a date. Hopefully Patrick gets better very soon and Winette will be able to join us, and maybe, just maybe, I'll split the pizza three-ways.

50 W. 72nd St., b/t Columbus Ave. & Central Park W.
212-799-4140