Magazine article The New Yorker

Eataly

Magazine article The New Yorker

Eataly

Article excerpt

Locavores, this is not for you. Eataly (pronounced as if you are Chico Marx naming his supposed homeland) is a new hyperkinetic emporium dedicated to Italian foodstuffs. Opened this summer by Mario Batali and Joe and Lidia Bastianich, along with the founder of the original Eataly, in Turin, this fifty-thousand-square-foot gastronomopolis is an F. A. O. Schwarz for food lovers. (It's even housed in the former International Toy Center.) Shoppers, diners, and oglers, nursing glasses of wine, navigate the crowded halls, perhaps on their way to stand in line at the salumi station, rotisserie stand, panini counter, or takeout pizza-and-pasta spot. (A rooftop beer garden is scheduled to open next year.) Or they may be hoping to snag a seat at one of the several restaurants, all of which serve only one food group--for instance, Le Verdure offers vegetables, Il Pesce, everything fish (the day I was there, specials included smoked-sturgeon bacon and monkfish liver), and Manzo, Batali's homage to meat, and the only eatery to take reservations. "You can't expect me to walk through this place without at least a bite," I overheard an elderly woman say to a younger companion who was ushering her through a traffic jam by an aisle walled by chocolates, many unavailable elsewhere in America, such as an Urzi chocolate bar, made with coffee roasted in prisons as part of a rehabilitation program ($8. …

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