| |  |  | |  | |  | Babbo | | | “The crown jewel in Mario Batali's empire serves over-the-top Italian in a charming, tucked-away West Village spot.” —citysearch | | Cuisine: Italian |
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| | | | | | "We have to try this restaurant called Babbo," said Swimster, nearly three years ago. "Bah-what?" I asked. "Babbo. It's sick Italian. Mario Batali owns it. It has the craziest menu. They have sweetbreads, tripe and testa," he said. I had never heard of sweetbreads, n... | | | | | | Once again, some of the city's best food is coming from Mario. I’ll be the first to admit that I spend a good deal of time blowing smoke up Mario Batali’s rear end. But, the truth is his restaurants are just down right terrific. It’s one thing to promise and not deliver… but when you can have t... | | | | | | [I started writing this entry in the airport on Saturday, but only finished it now while trying to edit my Chile photos and write emails, among other things, like thinking about how I should be snuggled under the covers of the bed a few feet away from me. Babbo probably deserves a better entry than... | | | | | | We can agree with number one. That's okay.Photo courtesy Babbo restaurantWe’re not surprised that Babbo is the city’s top Italian restaurant, according to Zagat's new America's 1,000 Top Italian Restaurants book — its popularity alone is enough, in Zagat-land, to ensure yearly dominance. And in fac... | | | | | | A little over a month ago, I'd mentioned how much I detest Mario Batali here (skip to the second paragraph). I even mention that in a month's time, this digression/rant beceomes important; for you see, I had a good idea that B was going to take me to Babbo for my birthday. And he did. (I mention ... | | | | | | Blogger Pink India Ink reports an unfortunate regurgitory incident at Mario Batali's sumptuous resto Babbo on Halloween night. After a seemingly perfect dining experience, she observes the male half of another postprandial couple suddenly vomit on the floor. "I would write more about this - abo... | | | | | | WEEE! I finally ate here! After much delay due to odd circumstances and events in my life, I finally made it to Babbo! After hauling my butt from Tailor (as you read from the previous post) with Helen in tow, I’ve rushed over to Giulia and Robyn finding out the status of our endangered table. What... | | | | | | One month before her trip to New York last weekend, TPS did the unthinkable and stayed on redial for 20 minutes. Thanks to her perserverance, she managed to score a table for 4 at Babbo on the 2nd floor (always preferable v. noisy and cramped 1st floor), not at 5 pm, nor at 11pm... | | | | | | | | | | | | "I have not been to one other restaurant anywhere in the world where I feel the same energy that I do at Babbo." Like most serious eaters, I've been searching for deliciousness my whole life, but sometimes, in more reflective moments, even I acknowledge there's often more to eating out ... | | | |
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