Babbo

Occasion: Pasta-palooza with Kathy, Yining, Ben and Rebecca
Location: Babbo on Waverly at MacDougal (babbonyc.com)
Edibles: described in detail below

Musings: Babbo does a good selection of proteins, but I think their "secondi" menu pales in comparison to their superlative handmade pastas. For my money, it's got to be the pasta tasting.

I always think of Babbo as a "fancy fancy" restaurant in the ranks of Jean-Georges, Le Bernardin and Daniel, but it's really not as expensive as that. The pasta tasting is an eminently reasonable $69 for five courses of pasta, plus an amuse bouche, enough desserts to make you groan, and a plate of exquisite little petit fours after that, in case you're still conscious.

My one quibble with the format is that it's so inflexible. Why does the tasting have to be for the whole table, period, full stop? Rebecca keeps a pretty laid-back version of kosher - basically, no shellfish, no pork. I would have thought they'd be able to work around that with a minimum of fuss. Not so.

I thought I was being pretty reasonable - I understood their rules, and simply asked that they do their best in terms of substitutions and whatnot. But no, they had to beat it to death that the chef cooks what he cooks and the tasting has to be for the whole table, no exceptions. I had pretty much the same pointless conversation with the reservationist, the maître d', our waiter and the restaurant manager about how to address Rebecca's restrictions - the latter three instigated by them, in quick succession.

We managed pretty well, with Rebecca having to skip only the first pasta, but why did it have to be so laborious? I think it makes more sense to make it for a minimum of two or three, and then anyone not up for an entire tasting marathon (like Kathy's husband, who surrendered before a shot was fired) or with special dietary needs can order à la carte.

But whatever. As long as their reservation book is full to bursting, I guess we diners just have to lump it.

On to the glorious food.

Amuse bouche: Bruschetta with marinated garbanzo beans. This is where a rookie makes the first mistake. You can't dick around with this menu or it will own your ass. If you want to make it through dessert, you can't eat the amuse, and you definitely can't eat the bread. (My additional preparations included just having a cup of tea for breakfast, chewing a stick of gum in lieu of lunch, and wearing a roomy jersey dress to accomodate the inevitable expansion.)

First course: Squid-ink tagliatelle with parsnips and pancetta. A double-whammy of pork and shellfish, so Rebecca had to pass. It was delicious enough that I threw caution to the wind and had a few forkfuls off her plate.

Second course: Beet ravioli with poppy seeds. Light and yummy. The pasta is thin and silky and delicate. When cut open, the ravioli filling is a cheerful but slightly disconcerting vivid fuchsia.

Third course: Garganelli with mushrooms. The yummy continues...

Fourth course: Goose liver ravioli with balsamic reduction. (We subbed out the pappardelle bolognese, which has ground pork in the sauce.) This dish is, in my opinion, the absolute pinnacle of Babbo's pastas. You'd think the strong flavors would clash but they're perfection together. The syrupy balsamic brings out the sweetness in the goose liver, while at the same time cutting through the richness. It's inspired. The acid also reacts with the pasta to bring it back to al dente - a chewier texture than what the same dough produces in the second course.

Swoon! In my happy place, I'm eating this pasta.

Fifth course: Pyramids stuffed with shredded beef (cheek, I think). I was losing steam fast, but still had enough appetite to savor the robust and incredibly tender shreds of beef in the filling. Sigh.

Dessert: It started out with a round of spicy chocolate ganache "al diavolo" and a sliver of castagnaccio, a chestnut tart. Then, instead of bringing everyone the carrot poppyseed cake on the printed menu, they brought one slice of that cake, and four OTHER desserts. They were: chestnut cake; an ice-cream, chocolate and pistachio concoction we dubbed "The Penguin"; mascarpone cheesecake; and a cranberry tartlet. We were, of course, obliged to taste all of them in rotation.

The petit fours were the final blow. I could only manage one mini biscotti, but had them pack up the rest.

What can I say? That meal was pure joy. Kudos to my fellow diners for crossing the finish line!