The Pint-Sized Palate—A Kid’s Take on New York Food

For Them, the Next Table

By Churchill Stone

Malaparte
753 Washington Street (at Bethune St.)

I had been to Malaparte when I was 1 year old —and I am 11 now. My parents recently took me to its sister restaurant, Malatesta, six blocks from us. Malatesta means “headache” in Italian, which is a strange name for a restaurant, but my father says he loves both places because the owners are real Italians. My father still tells the story of what happened that night. The restaurant was packed, and the hostess told my parents the wait would be 90 minutes. Right then, the owner walked outside. He looked at me in my stroller, then at my parents, and then at the hostess.

“How long you tell them?” he asked. “Ninety minutes,” she answered.

He shook his head. “No. For them ees next table.” Then he turned to my father. “You like inside or outside?” He replied, “Outside would be great.”

The owner turned back to the hostess. “For them with baby, the next outside table.”

My father never forgot that. He says it was very Italian, but maybe not something you would expect in New York City. It also proves that sometimes bringing a baby to a restaurant can help you, although usually it does just the opposite.

Ten years later, we finally went to Malaparte on a Saturday night. Malaparte is named after a famous Roman journalist. I think it is a better restaurant name than Malatesta, since most people do not want a headache for dinner.

We had a table for six outside at 7 p.m. The neighborhood restaurant was already busy with couples on dates and groups of friends. There are probably just as many seats outside as inside, so Chef Mauro Campanale must be extremely busy in warm weather.

Our server was Marinella, Chef Mauro’s wife. She was young, kind, and attentive throughout dinner. Just after we sat down and ordered, warm focaccia arrived with olive oil for dipping.

My sister Charlemagne ordered lemonade, and I ordered an Arnold Palmer. Mine was refreshing, but it tasted more like iced tea than lemonade, so it was not as sweet as I expected. Charlemagne’s lemonade was also not very sweet.

We started with the Pane e Pomodoro, which was amazing. It is flatbread with tomatoes and stracciatella di burrata, the creamy inside of a very fancy buffalo mozzarella. It tasted like what pizza might have been before someone actually invented pizza. The warm bread, tomatoes, and soft cheese made it very kid-friendly, even if the name sounds complicated.

Next came grilled calamari with lots of capers. It tasted good, and the adults loved it, but I prefer fried calamari with fresh lemon juice on top. Grilled calamari looks (and chews) more like a squid, so it is probably more adult-friendly.

The adults also loved the fennel, radicchio, and arugula salad, which they compared to a Caesar salad.

The pasta course was excellent. The Mafalde al Pesto surprised me because I liked it much more than I expected. The pesto was creamy and flavorful without tasting too much like green plants. The Rigatoni all’Amatriciana was another favorite. It seemed more grown-up than plain tomato pasta, but not so grown-up that a kid would not like it, especially because there were crispy bits of guanciale (it’s like bacon) everywhere in the dish. And we also had Cappellaci Caprese which was like little ravioli of buffalo ricotta with roasted tomato sauce and basil. This one looks so good, but I didn’t like it nearly as much as the others, but somehow the adults loved it even more.

Then came the Lasagna Bolognese, one of the best dishes of the night. It was rich, cheesy, gooey, and full of flavor. Everyone loved it.

After another round of clean plates, the Prime Striploin Steak arrived. Chef Mauro served it medium rare which was so perfect. It was tender, juicy, and so tasty. It was a sirloin, but somehow tasted like a ribeye, my favorite steak. Charlemagne was full, but she wanted some too. I could not eat as much as I wanted either. That’s because everything before was so good.

Chef Mauro came outside to greet the guests, and I took a photograph with him. My father had eaten at Malaparte a few times in the past. He said this dinner was much better, so Chef Mauro deserves a lot of credit.

For dessert, we had chocolate lava cake with vanilla ice cream and tiramisu (which means “pick me up” in Italian since it has coffee in it). The lava cake disappeared in about five seconds — warm chocolate poured in the middle with cold ice cream on top. The tiramisu is more for adults and we brought it back for my grandma who loved it.

Malaparte reminded me of eating in Italy — it was like eating at a restaurant on a small street in Rome.

Ten years ago, as a baby at Malatesta, I got us the table. Now, at Malaparte, I am finally old enough to sit at the table and enjoy their incredible food. Thank you, Chef Mauro.