Once upon a time, on the island of Manhattan, there lived a kind and benevolent ruler called Keith. He came from England (far, far away) and roamed his kingdoms — Pastis, Balthazar, Pravda, and Schiller’s — where everyone looked and felt beautiful and ate and drank brilliantly. And he saw that it was good, very good.
But King Keith was restless for more. He was restless for Morandi, as it turned out, his domain in the West Village, which opened its gates today.
It had a warm and welcoming farmhouse feel — wood planks on the floor and tabletops, weathered brick walls, and of mirrors that reflected gentle sunlight. The wizard in the kitchen, Jody Williams, had long dazzled the hungry masses at Gusto with magical Italian fare. Her enchantments endured in Morandi’s menu of fresh pastas, roasted fish and meats, and her legendary fried artichokes.
From across the island, people flocked for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They raised glasses and celebrated good friendships and great fortune.
And they dined happily ever after.
Morandi, 211 Waverly Place, at Charles Street (212-627-7575).