Cheap Eats - No code breaker
Da Vinci’s in Midtown sticks with red sauce basics
Da Vinci’s choice of marinara or Alfredo sauce with pasta calls several things to mind: squishy breadsticks soaked in butter substitute; factory-grated Parmesan in bulb-shaped glass shakers; red-and-white-checked, plastic-coated tablecloths. I’m reminded of the Italian-American food of my Deep South childhood — meals whose bulk consisted of rubbery melted cheese, washed down with a pitcher of Coke. These red sauce/white sauce eats of the past had the same innate kid-pleasing qualities as Stouffer’s lasagna.
Da Vinci’s in Midtown doesn’t stray one bit from this familiar territory of stromboli, calzones, pizza and Parmigiana sandwiches. If you can look past the 2-month-old restaurant for misguidedly touting itself as an “innovative Italian joint,” you’ll find cheap, belly-filling food, a lively bar and friendly service.
I love the ’80s: Da Vinci’s occupies a skinny, two-story slot reminiscent of a New Orleans saloon. There is just enough space downstairs for the bar, and a few spindly tables and chairs that look as if they’ve been culled from a late ’80s Ikea catalog. The look downstairs is silvery, geometric and slightly neon, with a Leonardo da Vinci-themed mural gracing a wall. Upstairs is cozier, where wood replaces metal. A comfy booth is ideal for conversation and canoodling over a few glasses of Prosecco. The wine menu isn’t anything extraordinary, but it is reasonably priced, and most bottle selections are available by the glass.
You say tomato: A ramekin of marinara accompanies nearly everything, including the meatball Parmigiana sandwich ($5.99). Open-faced and smothered in mozzarella, the sandwich is the sort of comfort food you’ll walk blocks for at 2 a.m. The meatballs’ perfect roundness suggests that they aren’t made in-house, but sliced, slapped on crusty bread and gooey with cheese, they make a sandwich that’s the equivalent of a ballpark hot dog. The carbonara stromboli ($6.99) is — no exaggeration — the exact length and width as my forearm. Other than its massive size, the stromboli isn’t even slightly loglike, thanks to its airy dough. Stuffed with smoked turkey, bacon and springy mozzarella, this crusty treat goes down in record time, dunked in marinara for good measure.
Scary sausage: A dinner salad ($2.99) is surprisingly fresh, even though the Italian dressing is packaged. The romaine is crispy and garden green, making us feel less guilty about gorging ourselves so late at night. The same light, golden dough that makes the stromboli such a delight is the highlight of the carnivore pizza ($16.99 for a 16-inch). The pie is better than anything available from a chain by a long shot, but it’s salty and topped with too-sweet tomato sauce. Disks of sausage taste mildly rancid the night we try it, and the Canadian bacon is pink from food dye and smacks of nitrates. You’d fare better building your own pizza with vegetable toppings. Cannoli ($3.99) are the only house-made dessert, and despite the ricotta’s grittiness, the crunchy, hefty shells haven’t been pre-filled.
Da Vinci’s does a jam-up job of providing easy eats briskly and graciously. And at 2 a.m., when you probably shouldn’t be in public, this Italian joint may not be innovative, but you sure will appreciate it.