OSTERIA
PARK SLOPE
Convivium is a Southern-European mutt: part Italian, part Spanish, part Portuguese. But those parts aren’t equal, at least when it comes to the food. “I’d say the menu’s sixty percent Italian, twenty percent each of the other two,” says the chef-owner, Carlo Pulixi, who was born in Sardinia and raised in Rome. “But you can find things in Italy that relate in some way to just about everything in Spain and Portugal.” True, Pulixi’s braised artichoke appetizer with olive oil, mint, and garlic has a pan-Mediterranean quality, as does the pan-roasted snapper fillet with olives, tomatoes, and thyme. The gnocchi, though, is pure Italy (see page 36), and the forty-eight-ounce rib eye for two prompts couples to speak the international language of pleasure: plenty of sighing, interrupted by the occasional moan.
If Spanish and Portuguese food are relegated to supporting roles in the kitchen, the countries dominate the sound track. A fifty-fifty split of flamenco (Spain) and fado (Portugal) filters through the diners’ chatter, bouncing gently off the copper cookware that hangs on the walls and seeping into the worn old wood of the farmhouse furniture. Pulixi’s half-Portuguese wife, Michelle, is a former dancer, and at one point the couple experimented with live music during service. But Convivium’s great atmospheric virtue, its coziness, made that difficult. There are a pair of intimate, votive-lit dining rooms upstairs and a bottle-lined cellar that’s ideal for large groups. “We really wanted it to be a place where, when you walk in, you feel like you’re getting away from the craziness of the city,” says Michelle. Mission accomplished—and then some. Spend an evening at Convivium and you feel as if you’ve gotten away from the craziness of the entire country.
Carlo was a part-owner of Il Buco, the antique-shop-turned-enoteca on Bond Street in Manhattan, and Michelle was a waitress there when they met. Il Buco’s influence is all over Convivium. “We ended up doing what we know,” Carlo admits. The result: a real osteria in Park Slope, with all the rustic informality that implies. “We didn’t even have stem glasses at first,” recalls Carlo, who had worked the front of the house at Il Buco and had never cooked professionally until he took over Convivium’s kitchen about six months after the restaurant opened in November 2000. But soon customers requested “proper” wineglasses, so they bought a few dozen—for those regulars only.
MAKES 32 GNOCCHI; SERVES 4 OR 5
For the gnocchi
1½ pounds organic spinach, stems removed, coarsely chopped
1 cup (½ pound) sheep’s-milk ricotta or well-drained whole-milk ricotta*
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
¼ cup unseasoned fresh bread crumbs
¾ cup all-purpose flour, divided
⅓ cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
1 teaspoon coarse salt
For the sauce
3 tablespoons grated Asiago cheese, plus more for garnish
1½ cups whole milk
1½ cups heavy cream
As addictive as these gnocchi are, not even the man who makes them wants to eat more than six or seven at a time. “Sometimes customers complain that there’s not enough gnocchi on the plate,” says co-owner Carlo Pulixi with a sigh, who, being a traditional and highly principled Italian chef, has strong feelings about portioning and other such non-negotiable rules of his country’s cuisine. “We just feel that with this richness, it’s not something you want to fill your stomach with. If someone says something, we make another plate, free of charge. But I don’t want to give them more than we give. I don’t feel it’s right.”
1. To prepare the gnocchi, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add the spinach and cook for 5 or 6 minutes, or until tender but not mushy. Drain in a colander and use the back of a wooden spoon to force out any excess water. Wrap the spinach in a clean dish towel and wring out any remaining water. Spread the spinach on a dry surface. When it is no longer steaming, transfer it to a large bowl. Add the ricotta and mix with a fork until well combined. Add the eggs, bread crumbs, ¼ cup flour, Parmigiano-Reggiano, and salt. Mix until smooth.
2. Place ½ cup flour in a shallow dish, line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment, and lightly flour the parchment. Using two tablespoons, shape the mixture into ovals. Dredge the gnocchi in flour to coat, then tap off any excess. Place the gnocchi on the baking sheet and refrigerate for 1 hour.
3. When you are ready to cook the gnocchi, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. While the water is coming to a boil, prepare the sauce. Combine the Asiago, milk, and heavy cream in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Whisk until the sauce thickens and coats the back of a spoon, about 10 minutes.
4. Add the gnocchi to the boiling water and cook for about 3 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the gnocchi to the saucepan with the sauce. Gently toss to coat, cooking for 30 seconds. Divide the gnocchi and sauce among bowls and garnish with additional Asiago.
SERVES 12–14
1 cup dried Turkish figs, sliced in half
Frangelico hazelnut liqueur
¼ cup whole hazelnuts
½ cup whole almonds
1½ cups walnuts halves
10 ounces dark chocolate (60% cacao), chopped
4 tablespoons (½ stick) unsalted butter, diced
⅓ cup honey
¼ cup sugar
1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
2 large eggs
¼ cup all-purpose flour
5 ounces (½ cup plus 2 tablespoons) extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for the pan
Co-owner Michelle Pulixi came up with the recipe for this cool-weather cake when she was “looking for something antico.” She’d been studying formulae for old desserts—really old, as in ancient Rome—and was finding dishes that used garum (fermented fish juice) and plenty of honey-based sweets as well. Nothing seemed approachable enough until she happened upon a recipe for frustingolo, or chocolate fig cake. “The original recipe doesn’t even call for chocolate—just a little cocoa powder—and it was dry, dry, dry,” she says. “So I modified it to be a little bit lighter and softer. I also soak the figs instead of boiling them. But with the spices and honey, I think it still has an old-world feel.” Pulixi’s frustingolo should be served at room temperature and is just as good the day after you’ve baked it.
1. Place the figs in a small saucepan with enough water to cover them by ½ inch, about 1½ cups. Bring to a boil over medium heat and cook until plump, about 5 minutes. Transfer to a bowl with half of the poaching liquid. Add enough Frangelico to cover and let stand for 1 hour. Drain and reserve the figs and liquid separately.
2. While the figs are macerating, position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 400°F. Place the hazelnuts on a small cookie sheet. Toast the hazelnuts in the oven until they are brown and fragrant, stirring occasionally, about 14 minutes. Cool slightly, then gather the hazelnuts in a clean dish towel and rub to remove the husks. Transfer the hazelnuts to a small food processor and pulse until finely chopped;* set aside. Repeat with the almonds, then the walnut halves. Divide the chopped walnuts, reserving ½ cup for dusting the pan. Reduce the oven temperature to 375°F.
3. Melt the chocolate and butter in a double boiler or a metal bowl set over a saucepan of simmering water, stirring occasionally, until smooth and incorporated.
4. Remove the stems from the figs and finely chop the figs in the food processor. Transfer the figs to a large bowl with ¼ cup soaking liquid. Add the honey, sugar, and melted chocolate, and stir to combine. Add the cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, hazelnuts, almonds, and 1 cup of the walnuts. Add the eggs, one at a time, fully incorporating the first before adding the next. Stir in the flour and olive oil.
5. Grease a 10-inch round cake pan with olive oil and dust with the reserved ½ cup walnuts to evenly coat the pan. Pour the batter into the pan and spread evenly. Bake for 30 minutes, or until the center of the cake is set. Allow the cake to cool for 10 minutes, then turn it out onto a rack and cool completely.
* If using whole milk ricotta, wrap the ricotta in cheesecloth, gather into a ball, tie, and drain over a bowl in the refrigerator overnight.
* Nuts contain a lot of oil, so it’s easy to overprocess them and end up with nut butter. Work in small batches and stop pulsing while the nuts still have some texture.
