A Gennaro Goodbye

Generally, I dislike when people hype up something because when I end up experiencing it for myself, I tend to be somewhat underwhelmed. This pertains to movies, books, vacation spots, and yes, of course, restaurants. Rupa has spoken about Gennaro, the tiny Sicilian place reminiscent of Le Zie, in her Upper West Side neighborhood. She's raved about the beef carpaccio, which she recreated on her Valentine's Day party, and the gnocchi and many other dishes, but the beef carpaccio is by far, her favorite. I stayed at Rupa's on Tues night, the last night I would see her before she moved to India on Friday. So we decided that we had to go to Gennaro, together, one first and last time. We ordered a bottle of white wine, on this sweltering night. One that the waiter recommended. And then we ordered everything on the menu, or what felt like it. Rupa wanted the beef carpaccio, and the veal ravioli. I opted for the mushroom with polenta and proscuitto and the gnocchi, with basil and tomato sauce and we shared the mussels. The food was unbelievably similar to the food I had in Italy- honest to goodness quality ingredients which made each bite make me want to burst into song.
I am still on my no-meat kick. Meaning that I eat seafood and eggs, but I haven't touched chicken, beef, pork, lamb, turkey, etc in about two months. I also tend to do what we call in Konkani "kanna-ruchi," which literally means tasting by the ear. So I have had a few bad gnocchis in the past and now I am very wary of them. But this gnocchi was melt-in-your-mouth fantastic. They were like small pillows of floury, mozzarella with fresh Jersey tomatoes and spicy basil. Changed my entire outlook on gnocchi for good. They were very similar to the gnocchi I had at Costanza, at Mercato Centrale in Roma. Freshly made and melt in your mouth, no kidding. I nearly inhaled it before Rupa got a fork in edgewise. Rupa's ravioli, sans veal was absolutely stunning- the garnish around it was so comforting. The mussels were spicy and in a broth that had couscous that I couldn't stop eating, even though I was full long before. The evening was bittersweet, like a Last Supper, even though Rupa is coming home for a wedding in September and I will be visiting in December. The waitstaff brought up a fantastic flourless chocolate cake with freshly whipped cream. Though I was stuffed, I managed to take it allin. The plan was to go home, drink more wine and talk into the night. But either we didn't want to deal with saying goodbye, or we were just that fat and happy, because we fell asleep almost as soon as heads hit the pillow. Bittersweet. Delicious, homey and comforting. But slightly painful.