#35: Best worst named restaurant (slash pasta part 2)

Dear Reader, (singular because at this point I am pretty sure due to my lack of consistency, this blog is now between me and my mother)…it’s been a while since I’ve blown your blogosphere minds with my nuggets of foodie wisdom. While originally I predicted such a decline would be chalked up to me eating less fabulous meals…well if you know you me you know this unlikely, and not the case. It is more due to the fact that this blog was born of an unemployed gal's need to feel productive, and since becoming busy and employed, don’t need to quench this need as much. Having said that, I still take great joy in the writing of this, and have several partially drafted posts in my vault. So I shall alert you all as these become slowly revealed, much like wikileaks...or as some circles believe, Harry Potter books.

Ok, so while I have been eating a fair amount of good chow, I have not had a great solo dining experience in while (and we all know I love solo dining). If you know you me, you may have learned of my “money in the sky theory” (taken from my mother like more things that id like to admit). If you were planning on spending money on something, and don’t, that money is now in the sky for your use elsewhere. Coming home from a wedding in Austin this Sunday, I decided I would take the subway rather than a cab, and then use that money in the sky to go out to Noodle Pudding, a spot in my hood that I have been longing to try (after living now in Brooklyn Heights for 6 months, it is pretty lame I keep saying Floyd's and Henry Public as the only two places I've been to).

So straight from the airport I went with crunchy hair-sprayed curls, overdone eye make-up, and a slight hangover (it was the type of post-wedding celebration that results in a noise complaint for singing Firework at the top of your lungs while jumping on a bed in a hotel room at 2 am). I have to say, despite its unsavory name, I was delighted.

First, a $4 glass of house wine puts you right in the Italian neighborhood spot mood, paired perfectly with the slight breeze of warm summer air, and candlelit atmosphere. I ate pasta off the specials list, which was described simply as tossed in olive oil and garlic, with baby zucchini, spicy peppers and clams... but was really so much more. I once had a discussion about the fact that in some cases pasta in even a top Italian place are on par with what can be cooked at home…I will say where you can really taste the difference is at places that make homemade pasta. One glance at these noodles and I could imagine the rolled out dough being cut into strips, cooked for an instant, and landing on my plate. Slightly thicker and shorter than spaghetti, these noodles were delicate and chewy, resting in a spicy clam broth further accented by chili oil squeezed on top upon the dish's arrival. Overall I'm going to rate this experience as a great one... and this can be a reminder to any and all that sometimes alone is the best way to enjoy a delicious meal.