The beef tendon at I Cavallini is the gentlest of introductions to this hardworking part of animal musculature, justly celebrated in other parts of the world but perhaps less expected at an Italian restaurant in Brooklyn with a line of reverent diners-in-waiting on the sidewalk every night.
Nothing on the plate will remind you that this sinew once held a knee and ankle together. No rubber-band snap, nor the slippery ooziness that comes after long boiling, when the tendon starts to surrender its youth-restoring collagen. Nick Curtola, the chef, braises the cut for hours until it bends to his will, then presses it into a terrine and runs it through a meat slicer. The result is as plush as raw scallop, dense then melting.
In Northern Italy, this is called nervetti. Mr. Curtola had it in Venice, with onions and a bottle of vinegar plonked alongside. His presentation at I Cavallini is more delicate. The onions are briefly immersed in the liquid from chive blossoms he pickled last spring, lending a pang of grassy sweetness. And those tiny blobs? That’s the gelatin that rises to the surface of the terrine, strained and clarified, ready to dissolve into a burst of bouillon.
Elegant rusticity and unshowy intelligence have been hallmarks of Mr. Curtola’s cooking for the past decade at the Four Horsemen, I Cavallini’s acclaimed forerunner across the street. (“Cavallini” in Italian means “little horses.”) He now heads both kitchens, spending most of his time at the new spot and hopping back over during lulls.
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The post This Buzzy New Restaurant Is No Four Horsemen — but It Could Be appeared first on New York Times.
