There was a time when I wouldn’t set foot in Morandi on principle. I had a spat with a hostess, who I found incredibly rude, and I stormed out vowing never to return. However, months later I saw an episode of Unique Sweets that put my heart on pause. Bruschetta with homemade ricotta, honey and nuts. Brioche slathered in chocolate dotted with rich hazelnuts. And the bomboloni! Miniature pillows of puffed, sugary perfection. Since I sometimes tend to hold irrational grudges I decided to return on principle that there should be NO BOMBOLONI IGNORED.
And it was an utter delight. Dining al fresco in the west village is a pure, unadulterated privilege of living in New York. You have prime viewing of passersby while savoring a hot coffee and a flaky pastry. After spin class, I settled with a book and a menu that made it difficult to order just one item. So I proceeded to order four, much to the consternation of the polite waiter.
From the charred homemade focaccia — a bed for roasted black kale, squash, apples and salty cheese — to the tender eggs and raisin bruschetta, you won’t miss at Morandi. Brunch is a true standout, replete with expedient service, fresh ingredients and a thoughtful combination of flavors. Inspired by my focaccia, I went home and fixed a kale salad that was out of bounds, people. OUT OF BOUNDS.
So if you’re aching for a perfect brunch spot in the heart of the West Village, I wholly recommend Morandi.