My grandmothers were all wonderful women who I adored, but none of them cooks. While I’m slightly relieved to have escaped the trope of the food writer who learned to cook at her grandmother’s elbow, I’ve never been at a restaurant and said, wistfully, “this tastes like my grandmother’s ____.”
So, here’s yet another reason to love New York: You can borrow someone else’s grandma! At least, for the duration of a meal.
Mole by a matriarch
La Morada in Mott Haven is a lot of things: a family business, a center for political activism and a downright perfect place to eat mole under the watchful eye of someone else’s grandmother. Natalia Mendez and her husband, Antonio Saavedra, opened the restaurant in 2009, and the moles are swoon-worthy. The three I tried: mole negro, deeply savory with warmth from pasilla, a perfect hot tub for braised chicken drumsticks; brick-red mole Oaxaqueño with enough bits of pepper to sink your teeth into; and mole blanco, a rich, pale blanket of pine nut- and cashew-based sauce. A few grandma-core touches complete the experience — terracotta share plates are delivered warm, and a colorful container of motley markers and paper wait in the corner of the restaurant.
308 Willis Avenue (East 140th Street)
Great dumplings by a grandmother duo
The two women folding and frying dumplings to order at Fried Dumpling in Chinatown move so deftly, I’m confident they could handle a 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. shift in their sleep. At the small shop on the one-block-long Mosco Street, they’re all business, chatting to each other while churning out magnificent, savory pork-and-chive dumplings that need nothing, maybe save for a squirt of chile oil from a bottle on the room’s singular table. For $5 (cash only!), you can walk into Columbus Park with 13 of these dumplings and, for another dollar, a pint container of warm, fresh soy milk.
106 Mosco Street (Mulberry Street)
The nonna experience
I had to hunt down a real Italian nonna for the occasion, and I found the titular one at Nonna Dora’s in Kips Bay. Dora lives nearby and comes in during lunch on most weekdays, when she posts up at a dining room table — look for the one that’s a little worn down with flour in the crevices — to make 10 pounds of pasta. Lunch is the move here, both to see Dora work and because the menu is à la carte, i.e., you’re free to split a few of Dora’s pastas. Indeed, they’re worth playing hooky for: malloreddus, short, ridged and saffron-tinged noodles, are tossed in a rich sausage-and-tomato sauce, while ears of orecchiette cup tender braised rabbit. The restaurant, which is owned by Dora’s son, Nicola, is opening a second location in TriBeCa in about a month — soon, nonna will head down there daily and continue her routine in a designated pasta-making corner.
One Reader Question
Where can I go with my laptop when I’m on deadline, but also starving, but also need a martini? — Eliza
I’m familiar with nights when I want, or, more often, need to be on my computer, but it’s feeding time. I never want to kill anyone’s buzz by hunching over a screen, lit in blue, furrowing my brow. Anywhere in a hotel feels like fair game for laptop use, and your most glamorous bet in that category is Lobby Bar at The Chelsea Hotel. They make a flawless martini (and a wonderfully strong Duke’s martini, though maybe wait until you meet your deadline to order that one), and a great, fancified bar burger — Mornay sauce! — along with best-in-show fries. Godspeed.
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