Squid pasta in New York City

Where else could this happen? I headed down E. 51st and turned right on 2nd Ave, looking for an Italian restaurant the hotel doorman recommended. I didn’t find it, but spotted Pescatore, at 955 2nd Ave. Went in and had Linguine Nero: pasta stained black with squid ink, and shrimp, calamari, arugula, spicy tomato sauce. Salad, glass of chianti, preceded by little bowl of warm olives in olive oil, crusty whole wheat bread. It was about the best pasta I’ve ever had. I’ve been admonished about my frequent superlatives, but this was in the category of foods that transport you. Alchemy. Told waiter to tell chef it was a brilliant dish, pretty soon the chef came out, George Bermeo, and he beamed. Chefs love praise, it’s such a hard job, and if they are true artists they appreciate being appreciated. I ended up getting gelato, a glass of sambuca and an espresso on the house. As my friend Rod Lundquist said in 1955 after a great meal with the O’Neill family and their 6 kids, “Life is rich!”