THE SPOTTED PIG

There is no way to say this without inciting a Running-of-the-Bulls style rampage over to the corner of West 11th and Greenwich Street, so I am just going to say what I have to say, and hope that you don’t all run at once. Promise? Okay. The Spotted Pig is flawless. From the moment you walk in, until the moment you leave, flawless. The service is great, the welcome is warm and genuine, the food rocks, and the place is comfortable, lively and hip in an understated and permanent way. It is the sort of local joint every ‘hood craves.

Co-owned by A&R executive Ken Friedman (a foodie and celeb magnet, who hired Mario Batali as a consultant) and chef April Bloomfield (a buddy of Jamie Oliver, most recently of London’s River Café, and fresh from a summer stage with Alice Waters at Chez Panisse), this cozy corner “Pub” in the way West Village is an instant charmer. Decked out in exposed brick, with high archways, velvet curtains and snug wooden tables, the Spotted Pig has a long and inviting bar, pressed tin ceilings, and chocolate-toned walls decorated with vintage prints of pigs (some may have been spotted, though I cannot be certain), ducks, and all sorts of English hunting birds. (Alas, there were no paintings of pigeons, which I suppose are the official New York City hunting bird.)

The place has rustic countryside tavern vibe that feels like it’s been there forever. And to make things even better, chef Bloomfield’s short menu of hearty seasonal American “Pub” fare is succinct and simple, featuring dishes that are executed with impeccable technique and that are heavy on assertive balanced flavors, making licking your plate clean a simple task.

Let’s start with the Gnudi with Crispy Sage and Parmesan ($8). Everyone must order this appetizer. But first, we must get comfortable with the word. These are not Gnocchi. Similar, in concept, but very different. These are Gnudi. Say NOOO-di. Gnudi are pillows of hot, soft, sweet cheese. (High on the yummy scale.) The chef takes fresh, creamy rounds of sheep’s milk ricotta cheese, lightly dusts them in flour and a bit of semolina, and then pan fries them in a nutty beurre noisette with fried sage leaves and freshly grated Parmesan. These little dumplings, the size of fat grapes, are light, lovely, fun, and recklessly delicious. Pop one in your mouth, and break through the slight semolina crust, and the hot ricotta cheese oozes out in and fills your mouth with creamy richness. Baby, this is bliss. Order them in bulk. Do not share. Really. Eat them all yourself. It will not be a difficult task.

While we were digging into our Gnudi, our eyes practically rolling into the backs of our heads they were so deliriously good, the table next to us ordered the smoked haddock chowder with crackers ($7), and we had a small bit of food envy. The creamy broth was thick with fish and had a rich smoky aroma that was almost intoxicating. It’s on my list for the next time.

Next, we had the squid and mussel salad ($9), a lively mess of plump mussels and miniature hoola hoops of chewy squid, simply and correctly seasoned with lemon, olive oil, salt, pepper, and fresh chopped parsley. There is no need for anything more on the plate, and so there is nothing more on the plate. Now there’s a concept I like. Ms. Bloomfield is a talented chef who has been well schooled in the art of culinary restraint. Bravo.

Chef Bloomfield’s fish cakes are also remarkable in their simplicity. A pair of hockey-puck sized cakes are fashioned form skate and cod, with no filler other than the fish and herbs. They were perfectly browned with a slight crust from being seared in a hot pan. Slice one open and they you’ll find they are dense with fish, but still light and feathery on the inside. Remarkable. They are served, again, quite simply, with a glossy shock of tart homemade lemon aioli and a bright mound of broccoli rabe, rich with garlic. We also had the housemade pork sausages, slightly spicy wurst, that were served beautifully blistered and topped with tomato confit over a bed of lentils that get a jolt of texture and heat from some fresh chopped arugula.

Desserts are as simple and delicious as the menu. We had the lemon tart, basically bruleed lemon curd in a crust of dense buttery pastry. Chef Bloomfield also serves the Rivercafe’s famous Chocolate Nemesis, a mind numbing flourless chocolate cake that is remarkably rich but amazingly light at the same time. It even had me, not a chocolate lover, digging in for second and third spoonfuls.

As I mentioned at the start, The Spotted Pig is terrific because it is one of those places where all the elements of the dining experience come together flawlessly. It is not just a place where you can eat really good really reasonable food. The service is wonderful. Robin, who was a waitress at Lupa and then ‘inotoecca, is on staff (and is one of the most charming and knowledgeable waitresses in the business), as is Lincoln, a stunning and loveable lad from Australia. But the man steering this ship and navigating it extremely well through a sea of fabulous people in heat for one of the restaurant’s 35 tables, is Richard Luftig, a front of house manager and sommelier who makes all that eating even better. He is a gem, working the room, taking names, keeping the masses smiling and in line. Amazing. He can also chose great wine while clearing a table, taking the names of six new parties, and making sure the celebrity seated in the corner is happy and unrecognized. He is a miracle manager. Every restaurant should have someone like him. Welcoming, smart, genuine, and focused on making sure you have a great night. He is the reason The Spotted Pig will remain a loyal local’s hang for years, and not just for the moment.

The Spotted Pig gives people what people they want. A neighborhood pub with magnetic appeal that serves food you want to eat every day. Alone, with friends, on your way back from work. Whenever, this is a place to have a pint and see a familiar face. Just remember, do not, under any circumstances, share those Gnudi.

The Spotted Pig is located at 314 West 11th Street, 212-620-0393. Lunch starts next week. No reservations, so go early, or be prepared to wait, happily, for your table.

Andrea Strong