Heyo!
What’s new?! Me? I absolutely had a panic attack on Sunday after drinking too much cold brew. Officer!! It’s not my fault, I was over served!
Man, panic attacks are fucking wild. I haven’t had a big one in a few years, and this one took me out completely. I had to lay down in my truck with the AC on. My vision got blurry, my hearing muffled. Even on the drive home, my heart was pounding and I kept squirming in my seat.
While I’m happy to be out of it, I can tell it’s going to take a few more days to recover. That recovery means quiet time. Yesterday, I spent a few hours at Moraine State Park in Pennsylvania. It’s a giant man-made lake (Lake Arthur) with over 16,000 acres to roam. The park was virtually empty, so I just played some chill tunes, zoned out, and enjoyed the breeze, the sailboats, and the fresh air. Felt good. Felt right.
What I learned this week: Everybody deserves true alone time, and everybody should do what they have to do to take it.
If ya don’t, well, problems arise.
On Good Dates and Good Restaurants
When I lived in Pittsburgh, I would often take people to Dish Osteria. Dish is an Italian bar/bistro in the Southside. It sits snuggly on a street corner, and man, it’s fucking romantic. There’s an energy to this restaurant which most likely emanates from the charming, chatty chef/co-owner Michele Savoia, who strides through the dining room and speaks to customers with a friendly and playful tone. One Italian man possesses the charm of 100 American men. It’s spectacular when you get to see it in motion, like watching Olympic figure skating but for personality traits.
Dish is darkly lit and intimate, but still fun and exciting. A good date night restaurant can’t only be the former—that can often spell stuffy and pretentious. Dish, though, isn’t too quiet; people there are authentically having a good time. The music is sexy and lively. The vibe loose. All of it carefully nudges diners into a certain direction (to fuck).
Probably the best first date of my life happened at Dish Osteria. It was 2009, and there was a big ass snowstorm hitting the city. I had a huge crush on a girl I knew from college (good ol’ Slippery Rock University). Her name was Sarah, she was into ceramics, and she was cool as hell. She once flirtingly said, “we should Ghost it up sometime,” which I’ll never forget. Eventually, she agreed to go on a date with me. I probably asked her out on Facebook.
That night it snowed so hard that Michele offered to let us wait out the storm in the restaurant. Sarah and I sat there until 1 or 2 in the morning, drinking wine, laughing, and talking. Our first kiss was outside on the steps, sharing a cigarette as the snow fell. For the last few hours, we were the only people in the restaurant. Michele completely understood the situation, as well as our romance, so he let us stay extra late. At around midnight he took us on a tour of the kitchen, then the three of us drank wine until well have after closing (the kitchen back then closed at 11pm, a gift).
On the way home, Al Green’s “Tired Of Being Alone” came on the radio. When Sarah recognized it, she blasted it, and we belted out the lyrics on the way back to my apartment. Windows down, the magic of being in our early 20s years from wearing off.
I haven’t spoken to Sarah in quite some time, but that night was romantic as hell. As such, Dish remains one of my favorite restaurants because of it. Magic happens there. The kind of nights you remember because the place begs you to stay, tie one on, and enjoy your life.
How’s Dish Hold Up Today?
Pretty fucking well. Though I was alone, one of my favorite things to do as a solo diner is to post up at the bar and meet regulars. It just so happens that I scored a seat at the very end, near an open window. I love a good window seat (both in restaurants and planes). It’s like your own little private dining area. The cool and refreshing breeze only reinforced this comfort. Always get the window seat at the bar if you can.
First thing I did was drink a Negroni. Maybe the glass was small, but god damn this Negroni felt big. Are they putting in more compari? More vermouth? I couldn’t detect, but this was like a big soup bowl full of Negroni juice poured into a glass. I drank two, because when life gives you big ass Negronis you drink those sommbitches. Also, for nine dollars, that’s a damn good deal.
Dish Osteria loves old school food. The menu is full of unchanged items from its original opening in September of 2000. Things like gnocchi and duck ragu, Fruitti Di Mare, a citrus salad with fennel and orange, gamberi, and sardines with warm onion agrodolce. Classic Italian and Mediterranean flavors that work—that’s what you can expect at Dish.
Good sardines redefine the meaning of fishy as a bad word, and these were delightfully oily, fatty, and savory. Yes, there’s bones. Yes, they taste very much like fish and the sea. But, Portuguese sardines served in this Sicilian manner are a delicacy. I know many Yinzers who have been turned on to the grilled, head on sardines at Dish. The warm, sweet & sour onions are sprinkled with toasted pine nuts and raisins, which make for the perfect accoutrement. Squeeze the lemon, have a bite of peppery arugula. You’ll like these sardines. If not, hey, they’re only ten bucks.
This pasta dish is a stunner: Semolina cavatelli in a tomato sauce with homemade sausage, sweet Corno di Toro peppers, thinly shaved fennel, wild mushrooms, Sicilian Pecorino, and fresh basil.
The use of cheese here is liberal, and it’s delicious. The sweet peppers aren’t cooked into oblivion, so they carry nice firm texture and a bit of crunch. There’s a bunch of great texture, actually. The fennel is shaved thin, and adds warmth and spice to the sausage. That sausage, by the way, is excellent. It’s clearly homemade, as the feel is meaty and smooth, not squeaky and overly fatty like the Johnsonville, store-bought shit. The ingredients in this pasta dish would make an excellent pizza. This cavatelli ($26) is pure warmth, an excellent dinner to experience in the early stages of Fall, but even moreso as the year progresses.
Man, this beef carpaccio just did NOT do it for me. Everything here is just way too bland. The lemon, the oil, the peppery arugula, it all tastes so….harsh. Not even the Parmigiano Reggiano can save this carpaccio. The beef tenderloin, while sliced thin, still feels pasty and slimy. It’s possible that I just don’t like beef carpaccio (it’s been years since I’ve ordered it). But, I would absolutely skip this appetizer. The move at dish? It’s homemade sausage, fish, and pasta. It’s antipasto. It’s wine, olives, and cheese. Get stuck there. Eat and drink a lot or very little, it doesn’t matter, your bill won’t be sky high regardless.
Thanks for reading The Move!!
Tell your friends! Share! Subscribe! Right now I’m out of Los Angeles, but I’ve got trips to Detroit, Chicago, and Philadelphia coming up. Where should I eat there? Let me know!