Simple pleasures mean so much to me. Anyone familiar with this blog must know by now that I take great joy in visiting museums or listening to good music. What they may not know is that I also love good food, but perhaps that was a given with me being Neapolitan.
Last night I caught up with some old friends of mine. We took the opportunity to get together for an enjoyable evening, taking a break from the stressful demands of the rat race. Something everyone should do more often. Looking forward to a good meal we went to Numero 28 pizzeria in the West Village (28 Carmine St.) for a late dinner.
Many places claim to specialize in "authentic" Neapolitan pizza, and I'm sure some of them even believe it, but it has not been my experience. To be honest I don't think that it will ever be possible to duplicate the pizza I ate in Napoli, it was almost a religious experience. However, Numero 28 comes very close. We had the amazingly delicious pizza capricciosa, a thin crusted work of beauty topped with tomato, mozzarella, olives, artichokes and ham, cooked to perfection in a brick oven in under two minutes by the pizzaiolo (pizza maker).
More than "just" pizza, we also ordered the Insalata di rucola, and their signature pasta dish Linguine Numero 28, a perfectly cooked plate of pasta, smothered with cherry tomatoes, wilting arugula and shaved parmesan. With their excellent food, welcoming ambience and friendly service, I will definitely be going back.
Afterward, we took a passeggiata, or stroll, around the neighborhood. Taking in the warm summer air and city sites, we talked some more about art, politics and life in general.
As we made our way back to the car I noticed a sign on a park fence that earlier escaped my attention: Vesuvio Playground. The sign read that the park (formerly Thompson Playground) was renamed after a local Neapolitan bakery on Prince St. in honor of the late owner, Anthony Dapolito, known as the "mayor of Greenwich Village" for his community activism. Vesuvio Bakery has been a neighborhood favorite since 1920, and still is.
