Spaghetti ohhh's

Here is the thing—the only thing—my family and I used to hate about going to the Bronx Zoo: nowhere good to eat. And, let’s face it, after a long, dusty day on Tiger Mountain, are we really going to go home and cook a full meal? Um, no. So, thankfully, we decided to check out the famed Italian-American enclave of Arthur Avenue. Ever since, that’s where we head for some well-deserved abbondanza: a little sangiovese to relax the grown-ups and a heavy-on-the-marinara feast the kids love as much as we do. Or, if a picnic is our pleasure, we stop en route to our destination and have someone pack lunch for us—brilliantly, with hero sandwiches, a tub of garlicky sautéed escarole and a few frosty cans ofPellegrino.

All Arthur Ave aficionados have their fave food stops. Below are just a samplingof mine. On this hallowed road, one must explore with a big appetite, because nearlyevery discovery is worth savoring.

Photo: Ben Rosenzweig

Neighborhood trendsetter
I’ll be honest: When we’re in the mood for cuisine that’s a little more of-the-moment, we don’t immediately think of Arthur Avenue. However, if you’re in the area and not in the mood for a bath in marinara, you won’t be let down by Roberto Restaurant. Rustic dishes dominate the menu, including an antipasto of Northern Italian sausage with cannellini beans and sautéed broccoli rabe, and fusilli baked in terra-cotta with eggplant, capers and anchovies (average prices range from $15 to $21). My family feels less self-conscious about turning up in rumpled jeans and sneakers here than in some other local establishments. But it’s still a special-occasion place, with an exciting wine list for the adults’ tippling pleasure. Stay for dessert and try the Neapolitan ricotta-wheatberry pie, studded with candied citrus. “My grandmother’s recipe was special for Easter, but now we make it all the time,” says chef-owner Roberto Paciullo. Kids may prefer the castagne e cioccolata, translated as “thick chocolate cake filled with the goodness of chestnuts.”
603 Crescent Ave (718-733-9503). Closed Sunday.

Photo: Ben Rosenzweig

Top spot for intrepid foodies
Only thrill-seeking tykes will take on the Calabria Pork Store, where artisanal soppressata, capocollo and prosciutto dangle from the ceiling in fantastic profusion, in a room thick with the funky, gamey smells of aging meat. “Oh, baby!” exclaimed a young businessman in an expensive suit on my last visit. He inhaled deeply. “What wouldn’t I give to be locked up in here for three days with a case of red wine!” My 11-year-old daughter, hands cupped over her mouth and nose, looked at him askance. “Ewwww,” she stage-whispered, “get me out of here!” She had a point. Still, the kid who’d pick an ovrstuffed salami sandwich over PB&J any day couldn’t find a better pit stop than this.
2338 Arthur Ave (718-367-5145).

Photo: Ben Rosenzweig

Best nostalgic dinner
Mario’s looks like the kind of place my grandmother used to favor for a dressed-up family meal out, back in the ’70s. The tablecloths and vinyl banquettes are pink, the carnations on the tables are red, and the tuxedoed waiters are warm and flawlessly professional. Family portraits adorn the walls (this is a fourth-generation business), along with signed celebrity headshots and murals of southern Italy, darkened with age. The menu is similarly dated, featuring everything you’d expect, from clams oreganata to veal parmigiana. However, the cooking is anything but tired. The plump cheese ravioli, stuffed with milky-fresh ricotta, comes smothered in a fruity, bright-red marinara that won my daughter’s heart (mine, too). Beware the portion sizes: For $17.75, you get a mound of ultra-light and crispy calamari fritti that’s high enough to feed a Cub Scout troop; and most pasta platters (which cost $11–$13) could easily satisfy two or three hungry children.
2342 Arthur Ave (718-584-1188). Closed Monday.

Photo: Ben Rosenzweig

Most dazzling takeout
For picnic fare or a cold supper to carry home, few places can compete with the venerable Mike’s Deli, an overstocked butcher and cafe located in the city’s most beloved food and kitchen-supplies market. The glossy menu may paralyze your family in indecision; it lists more than 50 sandwiches, plus platters, pastas, soups, stromboli, salads and sides. That’s 88 items total, not counting house-made toppings (roasted red peppers are strongly recommended) and all the custom variations your enthusiastic counterman may suggest (“That one is better with provolone, you know...here, try some!”) Ingredients are top-notch, including Mike’s own soppressata and filet mignon bresaola. Try your kids out on a little Italian nougat, if they’re feeling adventurous; and don’t miss peeking at the guys hand-rolling cigars up front (Rudy Giuliani and James Gandolfini have been there and seen that, and Mike’s has the autographs on the wall to prove it).
2344 Arthur Ave (718-295-5033). Closed Sunday.

Photo: Ben Rosenzweig

Detour-worthy cannoli break
There’s more than one kind of stuffed shell to savor in the Belmont district, and the most decadent isn’t bathed in sauce. Cannoli is a simple pleasure, easy to come by in the classic Italian-American pastry shop Edigio’s, which is located just a block off Arthur Ave on East 187th Street. Sure, you can get cannoli practically everywhere up here, but Edigio’s is the superlative choice if you’re traveling with a group of children—there’s a sparkling-clean public restroom, and the place is cool and roomy, with plenty of space for restless little ones who want to gawk at the splendid display cases. What they’ll see: cream puffs, rum baba, pignoli cookies, regina cookies, biscotti and—because this is New York, not Italy—raspberry rugalach and the hugest, puffiest black-and-whites imaginable (really awe-inspiring for kids used to seeing them shrink-wrapped by the cash register at their local bodega).
622 E 187th St (718-295-6077).

Photo: Ben Rosenzweig

Ultimate carb heaven
It’s a rare kid who doesn’t love pasta (fortunately, Atkinsmania didn’t catch on with most grade-schoolers). But how many know what it is, exactly? If your children think farfalle grows on trees, take them to Borgatti’s Ravioli & Egg Noodles, winner of Zagat’s 2005 pastas category, where freshly made sheets (spinach, whole wheat or plain) are hand-fed through a vintage press right behind the counter and cut to order—just choose your width from a cardboard display.
632 E 187th St (718-367-3799).

So, what is this place?

Photo: Stefano Giovannini

The Arthur Avenue district in the heart of working-class Belmont is small and utilitarian-looking—just six blocks, densely packed with a colorful collection of third- and fourth-generation restaurants, butchers, bakers, fishmongers and grocers. These days, one notices more and more Albanian and Spanish signage, as the local demographic shifts. But the neighborhood remains the city’s best source for everything Italian, from St. Francis medals for pets (Catholic Goods Center, 630 E 187th Street) to Sicilian salt-packed capers and Francesconi canned tomatoes, sold by the case (Teitel Brothers, 2372 Arthur Avenue).

By day, the plenty spilling out onto the sidewalks includes homemade lemon, chocolate and cremolata ices and curbside raw bars, manned by waiters in crisp white aprons. Meat vendors display skinned rabbits and baby lambs, dangling on hooks over bins piled high with tripe and trotters. It’s enough to make titillated kids squeal in disgust (mine did), and a wake-up call for youngsters who think old-world culture looks like what they’ve seen on Mulberry Street.