Beignettes with nutella and raspberry sauce; half chicken with Brussels sprout home-fries, lemon, sherry and Dijon; Italian pork bun with juicy bread, provolone, broccoli rabe and pepper salad: what has happened here for the past few years other than a calm, steady bid for posterity?
I’ve loved Little Owl from Day One, and I love it still; its littleness is precisely what is lovable about it, not to mention its solemn, enfolding owlishness, AND the fact that it sits there at the corner of Bedford and Grove, perhaps one of the loveliest two streets in the Village, charming to boot but perennially oblivious of its charm.
Snug and gently lit, unassuming in all the right ways, this local favorite has an ambience that encourages lingering, even if the long line outside does not. There are barely ten tables in the phone booth-size space, but they are almost always full. The service is also almost always personalized. And would you just look at that antique stamped tin ceiling?
Joey Campanaro maintains his quiet brand of Mediterranean-inflected American bistro offerings, and over the years his food has aced the crude test that passes for critical judgment in the ‘neighborhood favorite’ market: it tastes good today and is almost certain to taste good tomorrow. The simpler the dishes are, the better: try the pork chop and butter beans, served ever so simply with parmesan and wild dandelion; or the crunchy chicken fingers with grilled escarole salad. Those vintage gravy meatball sliders never fail to please, as do other staples like a painstakingly rusticated plateful of cheddar leek scrambled eggs with roasted peppers and risotto bianco with organic egg yolk, parmesan and truffle. When there is a roast chicken or a chocolate cake on the menu, grab it.
