Memoir

Antica Ancora

Antica Ancora

Wherever we live, we like to find a neighborhood restaurant we can call our own. Obviously the food has to be good, but mostly the atmosphere must be pleasant and the service accommodative. Everyone wants a a place “where everybody knows your name” just like on Cheers. Usually we are prone to Italian restaurants both because the food is not hard to like and because my three years living in a Rome and my passable Italian makes it all conducive. Where we lived in the South Street Seaport, we had a place called Il Brigante, or the brigand or pirate. It turns out New York was a big pirate town in the late seventeenth century. Captain Kidd and others rampaged the seas and holed up quietly in New York Harbor, far from the peering eyes of the Crown.

Shortly after moving into our FiDi neighborhood, I was taken for lunch to a small white tablecloth restaurant called Antica Ancora. That name translates to “Still Ancient”, which is a meaningful name. I think of Paul Simon’s Still Crazy After All These Years. This place is Still Ancient after all these years. I’m not sure what it implies, but it sounds cool. Indeed, Antica has an old world feel. The tables all have freshly starched linens and the silverware has some heft to it. The waiters all wear black suits, white shirts and black bow ties. The busboys all look like busboys in their high-buttoned white jackets. When I get there they all shake my hand as though we are long lost friends. I get shown to a table immediately and can pretty much sit where I want. I am always made to feel like Il Capo de Capi. I particularly like to sit in the corner seat in the wine room, which makes me feel like The Godfather with his back to the wall.

The wait staff speaks Italian, but they are all from Albania. I respect that. Everybody wants Italian restaurants but nobody thinks of Albanian restaurants. I can’t even say I know what Albanian food is like. I suspect it’s a cross between Greek and Italian, but I can’t be sure. So, if it makes their lives work to act like Italians, I’m all for it. What I know for sure is that they understand client service regardless of their country of origin. They work hard to make sure I enjoy my meal and always thank me profusely afterwards as I’m leaving. This speaks volumes.

I started going to Antica several times each week. It’s two blocks from work and two blocks from home. The management seemed to notice my regular patronage, and one day they seated me at my favorite table and put down a nameplate with my name on it. There are few things a restaurant can do to make a regular customer feel more important than to give him that sort of special treatment. If I was inclined towards the place, that pretty much locked it in.

The only funny thing about the restaurant is that it is part of a hotel and shares its restrooms with the hotel such that you have to take the elevator to the hotel lobby to use the restroom. Everything the staff can do to make your experience excellent they do, but it’s hard to fix a physical constraint like remote bathrooms. For a regular like me, I come prepared, but others are surprised by the rigamarole.

My loyalty to Antica Ancora is strong. I never even take or look at a menu. I know what they have and I know what I like. To begin with, right after getting me my usual Diet Coke with no lemon, they bring the table appetizers of chunk Parmesan cheese and salami, Cubanelle green peppers, and the most delicious fried, spicy, thinly sliced zucchini you’ve ever tasted in your life. I never dream about food, but I dream about those zucchini chips. Like any good Italian joint, they have great bread, and they use butter versus olive oil, which I consider far more civilized. I think I know the menu and specials by heart. I am partial to their thinly pounded veal chop, still on the bone. I love any of their savory chicken dishes with sliced sausage and sweet peppers. And on a light day I opt for ricotta-filled raviolis in pink sauce. Rarely do I do desert, but others love their complimentary Grappa of any flavor and the full range of coffees.

I was there twice for lunch this week and we are taking another couple there on Saturday night. That’s a normal week for me and Antica. They benefit from a combination of my laziness and my indifference to food diversity, but they earn my business every visit.

I characterize myself as the opposite of whatever a foodie is. I am so casual about where I eat that it surprises people. I just don’t care enough to bother. But if I am looking for a dining option near me, I almost always opt for Antica. It’s a combination of loyalty and appreciation of special treatment.

The staff at Antica doesn’t care that I am not a drinker, and yet the wine and Grappa flow freely for others so inclined. They anticipate and appreciate my needs and always leave me feeling good. They get well-tipped by me, but I do not overdo it. They are simply from the school of thought that they appreciate the patronage, and that means a lot to me. The place is part of the Still Ancient tradition of giving a shit about their regulars. That alone makes Antica Ancora a very special place to me and to those who will follow long after me.