A year later — better than never — I am finally going through the pictures from out Sicilian trip. They are now up on the Beyond the Barre blog.
Looking at the food we had in Sicily made me crave Pani câ Mèusa, a spleen sandwich that started our first morning at Vucciria. Interesting how memory sorts things out — the simple heap of offal slathered in hot lard, touched with lemon juice and salt became the most memorable meal from that trip.
New York has everything. There’s got to be a place where they make this sandwich. A quick search brought bad news and good news.
Bad news. Exactly at the time we were eating our sandwich in Palermo, in Brooklyn, a 121 year old Italian restaurant Ferdinando’s Foccaceria famous among other things for this exact sandwich closed its doors issuing the following statement on Instagram:
“To our dear and valued patrons: Due to unforeseen circumstances, our family has made the decision to permanently cease the operation of Ferdinando’s. It was a decision that was both difficult and painful. But nonetheless necessary. Rendering a 121 year institution such as ours a fond memory cannot come without a mix of emotions. Fading into The Red Hook sunset quietly, without fanfare, was felt to be a proper and discreet finish. We apologize for not providing an opportunity to savor a last meal with us and to say goodbye.”
Good news. There is a Sicilian restaurant in Gravesend neighborhood of Brooklyn — Joe’s of Ave U — that serves this sandwich as Vastedda named so after the bread that is holding the offal. Will travel for food — we took a trip.
Walking in as always at the most off time for dining, we found Joe’s not crowded. The menu is extensive and I wanted everything. Not that Tom was twisting my arm but his eyes were asking for reason.
Quick no frills service and we had our Sicilian fill in front of us.
Hot, slightly charred, with light like lace crumb bread appeared almost instantly. I so love these loaves in Italian diners and how they are served that I would go out just for that. But we had more to come so after the first slice I sat on my hands. The rest of our order came out almost right away giving just enough time to inhale-exhale between the dishes.
Polpo and Calamari with salad. There is not much to add to the picture: an ample mound of large seafood chunks over crunchy bits of carrot, red cabbage, and onions. Not rubbery, with an acidic dressing, and strategically preheated lemon pieces that were bursting with juice — perfect.
Broccoli rabe — crunchy, bitter. The way it is supposed to be to offset the richness of the seafood.
Panelle. I was on the fence ordering anything starchy knowing how it fills you up. Glad I listened to Tom. These piping hot chickpea fritters were so good —crispy outside, creamy soft inside, oily just enough, salty just enough. Now I am thinking we should have ordered some to take home.
Sardi a Beccafico, sardines stuffed with bread crumbs, pine nuts, dried currants or raisins, and baked to a crisp nicely paired with crispy lettuce to absorb the strong juices. They tasted just like those Polpette di Sardi at Ballaro.
Vastedda was different from what we expected. Made with spleen and heart, it tasted more livery than the one we had in Palermo with spleen and lungs. More chewy because of that, too. Our Palermo cart man ran out of cheese and we had just meat — dripping with lard — on the bun with lemon juice and salt. The amount of cheese — a very good ricotta — was not exactly what we expected. Not bad — different: maritatu with meat and cheese vs schettu — with just meat.
There is more on the Joe’s menu to try — we will be back.
