FREEwilliamsburg: Anella Awakens In Greenpoint

Anella Photo.jpg

Leather booths. Edison lamps. Waiters in bowties. All are examples of some supposedly fun trends I hope I never see in a new restaurant again. Nothing against, say, Walter Foods and speakeasy chic—I like an inscrutable, nefarious-sounding cocktail as much as the next guy—but trends spread like the flu in this town, ha, and it’s nice to stumble into an antidote like Anella.

OK, so there’s no sign on the door here, but all preciousness is stopped at the door. Housed in the old Queen’s Hideway space on Franklin Ave, Anella has expanded it to two slim dining spaces wrapped around the apartment entrance in the middle. If this makes for a slightly disorienting entrance—aim for the door on the left—inside one is warmly welcomed by a sturdy, idiosyncratic-looking bar made out of workbenches snagged from the Queens Steinway factory. Some other piano paraphernalia blends seamlessly into an era-blending aesthetic combining smooth wood paneling, slate-topped tables, and a pair of unfinished walls, still sporting contractors’ instructions, that serve as an homage to the well-loved previous tenant.

The rustic-meets-urbane Italian menu from former Chanterelle chef Michael Sullivan treks from pizzas to pastas to mains and requires plenty of mulling over, so a complimentary amuse-bouche of white bean and pesto, was greatly appreciated. You might end up skipping apps altogether to take full advantage, and a delicious, homemade spinach parardelle in amatriciana sauce, if not exactly overflowing with pork cheek, appears with enough percorino to fill out a lasagna. Later, a shell steak peppered with marrow, parsley, and lemon peel sits on a generous bed of the creamiest mashed potatoes you’ve ever had. Made with olive oil, they’re enough to wean one off of butter altogether. Not everything coalesces quite so smoothly. The mild oven-roasted halibut was overshadowed by a saccharine, watery “salsa” (read: false pesto, with capers, anchovy, and parsley in place of basil) and despite the wood-burning oven, the pizzas on one night looked a little wan, more like pita bread with toppings.

But like any newborn restaurant, Anella is a work in progress and, like those Steinways, strikes the right notes much more often than not. If one nearby table complained about some acrid smoke emanating from the open kitchen, someone there later described roasted half-chicken as “the best piece [they’ve] had had in a long while.” And though the liquor license was still forthcoming, the “mocktails” on offer, including a grapefruit and basil spitzer, are as seasonably appropriate as sunglasses and Havaianas.

As for dessert, I suspect the highlight will be the frozen tiramisu made with now-de rigueur Stumptown coffee. (Copious bike lanes and fine java on every corner: does Portland have any feathers left in its cap?) It wasn’t available on the night in question—they were still awaiting freezer delivery—but a dark chocolate terrine, a hybrid of fudge and flourless cake, was an able, ample replacement.

With some entrees creeping above the $20 border, and the soon-to-be wine list rarely dipping below $30 (oh, cash only, too) the folks behind Anella seem confident that conspicuous consumption will soon strike back. But with the most refined menu and romantic atmosphere this side of McCarren, plenty will happily splurge, even if they need to pinch a few pennies beforehand.