FOLIO
by Ernest Matthews
In my current period of life I often find myself thinking about how quickly the world is moving around us. Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months before we can even process the first second. Every moment sprints to the next, and it’s not always pretty. Many times life moves like a kindergarten relay race; lots of falling, stumbling and occasionally going in the wrong direction entirely. This kind of chaos can also define a dining experience, sometimes with disastrous results. I could share a story of disaster, but instead I choose a story of triumph and good fortune. A story of bad timing but great luck that defined a memorable and quite enjoyable meal at La Cena Ristorante.
I left my place of work with a good mood but an empty stomach. It was about half past nine so I knew my options were limited. I decided on a certain bierhalle in the Murray Hill area, and after a 20-minute drive, I was in the door. After a brief exchange of salutations, I order a glass of wine and check the menu. As my hungry thoughts consider fine German cuisine, I am met with devastating news. The kitchen was closed. I did my best to maintain composure, but my stomach chose violence, and it was directed towards me. This was not acceptable, and I needed to work fast. As I’m scrolling through my phone for another option something catches my eye. La Cena (one of my favorite spots) is open for another hour, and it’s less than a mile away. I phone the restaurant and plead my case with hope of an open table. The man answers, “C’mon in, we’ll feed ya.”
Now for those who have never been to La Cena you should know that it does its best to elude you. There are no signs or anything that would lead you to believe that an eatery exists at their location, just a modest yellow building. Whether or not you’ve been there before there is a good chance you’ve driven right by it, turned around to look for it and turned around once again because you missed it twice. At least that’s how I get there, the dizziness helps my appetite. As I enter the front room I am greeted by the nice man I spoke to on the phone and he leads me to a table. A cozy, upper end Italian bistro with white table cloths and warm lighting surrounds me. Lovely paintings of varied but appropriate styles line the walls, evenly spaced for proper enjoyment. Each table has plates and goblets set with intention and poise. Comfort and class coming together to set the tone for a lovely experience.
As I’m taking in the restaurant, the waitress comes by and greets me with a smile. It is not our first meeting nor will it be our last. After catching up briefly, she asks for my order. While I normally take my time to place an order, this time I came with a plan. I ordered the Sette Colli with chicken and a glass of their Ripasso. With a nod she walks away taking care of two other tables on her way to the kitchen. The front of house at La Cena works as a team, and an excellent one at that. All of their moves are coordinated but casual, as most of them have been there for a while. As busy as it can get they never seem like they’re in any sort of hurry, which keeps the atmosphere calm and comfortable.
Across the room a glass of red appears in the graceful hands of the other waitress, teasing me from afar. She almost floats as she walks over and sets the glass down. I test the nose and take a sip, and it is exactly as remembered. The Ripasso is an interesting wine being that it has two stages of fermentation; the first has the grapes ferment normally before pressing, and the second has the skins of an Amarone wine added for two to three weeks. It creates a very acidic and aromatic wine that is quite enjoyable but lower in body. After a couple more sips, I put the wine aside as I can see my original waitress on the way over, and she has a plate in hand.
Up to this point my stomach had been quiet, biding its time to attack me after my initial blunder. It was time to tame the beast. The Sette Colli would do so and then some. A butterflied and pounded chicken breast lay before me. Beautifully sauteed and fork-tender, the chicken was accompanied by a sherry sauce, peas, mushrooms, tomato and prosciutto. A lovely mix of fattiness and acid play together with each bite with a light fruitiness in the background from the sherry. The mushroom adds some meaty texture with a pop of earthiness from the peas adding more complexity to the mix. Halfway through the dish my appetite was slain, but I planned to take no survivors. I finished the dish in record time and returned to my wine, as if it were waiting for me after I had gone off to war.
With the wine gone and my belly appeased it was time to go. I paid my bill and walked out into the brisk night air. As I got in my car I reflected upon the night on my way back to the bierhalle. I was a lucky person to be able to enjoy such a fine meal on what was supposed to be a regular night, especially somewhere that almost solely requires reservations. Had the night gone how it was supposed to, there probably wouldn’t be any story to tell. Sometimes the chaos of the world around us puts everything in just the right place for something special and delicious.
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