Emilio’s Ballato

I have been eating at Ballato’s (what everyone calls it) since the mid-90’s. And, it has never changed. Well, it has gotten more popular over the decades thanks to every celebrity in the world eating there, usually at the pinnacle of their careers. Photos of Emilio, his family, and the aforementioned celebs, adorn every inch of the walls.

What hasn’t changed is that Emilio is always forebodingly sitting at the very first table, directing traffic throughout the railcar space, with a gruff, nearly audible grunt, telling the masses what table they are entitled to sit at. To the newbie, you may die from the fear Emilio can strike in your heart. But to the practiced, Emilio’s a sweetie. My mother was especially fond of him during our regular boozy lunches there over the last decade, prior to her passing.

What also hasn’t changed…

…the menu.

Fried calamari, when offered is a must, with some pickled hot cherry peppers adoring it and a side of perfect marinara.

Meatballs as a shared app, you say? Yup!

Pastas? Take your pick. My go to is penne arrabbiata.

Pork chops and vinegar peppers, Carol, my wife’s, fave.

But, the decadence really comes into play with the veal cutlet parmigiana. A crispy pan-fried veal chop, pounded out to be the size of your head, smothered in marinara, and mozzarella. The portion size is as intimidating as Emilio, but much like the proprietor, once you get to know it, whacking the entire thing down in a single sitting, is as easy as pie.

I go at weird times to avoid the lines – 3PM for a late lunch, a couple of glasses of wine, an espresso that will curl your hair, and a sambuca, sets you perfectly for a lazy Saturday night at home with a book or in front of the TV.

My favorite story…
When I was involved in the project to build the Sunshine Theater, an art house movie theater we constructed on Houston Street in the mid-90’s, I had to meet with a contractor about some money they were owed as we were redoing our financing on the theater. They invited me to Ballato’s for lunch to discuss the debt. There were two gentlemen, Nicky Vazza, who was the on-the-ground contractor, and Moishe Goldberg, who seemed to be the owner of the company. Both men were tall, with Nicky looking like a steelworker and Moishe resembling a Wall Street Banker, in his grey flannel suit. We had a lovely time, it was my first time ever going there, and I was immediately hooked. Throughout the lunch, we never discussed money. Not once. Finally, as we were finishing our espressos and sambucas, I, out of the blue, assured them that their debt would be paid as soon as the refinancing was completed. Moishe smiled at me, patted my hand, and said very politely, “Johno, you’re a smart guy. I know we’re getting paid.”

Visit Ballato’s at 55 East Houston Street
or at ballatos.com