Restaurant Review: I Sodi

I wasn't supposed to have eaten at I Sodi. In fact, I had been looking very much forward to trying out West Village's The New French with Andrew this past Sunday. One of the biggest reasons I wanted to bring him to The New French was for their moules frites; because for Andrew, mussels and french fries just about encompassed all that is good in this world. When we finally arrived around 2:30, ravenous, I came to an awful realization: the brunch menu (which is nowhere to be found online, by the way) was crushingly devoid of moules frites. There was no way we were going to The New French and missing out on moules frites.

So I then began racking my brain for other West Village options. I am not one who likes to stumble into just any place- the success rate of doing so hasn't turned out to be too favorable for me. After some huffing and puffing and drawing a complete blank on the entire area for a few minutes, I remembered I Sodi. I had never seen it and didn't know it's address, but a quick text message to Google straightened that out: the restaurant was on Christopher Street, just a little more than a block from our current location on Hudson. Turns out we had actually walked right by the place on our way to The New French.

It was quite understandable why we hadn't seen it. The restaurant's facade just missed being covered by scaffolding and had a rough appearance, almost like it was under construction or closed, even. There is a screen that blocks any view into the restaurant through the glass window, and there is no menu posted outside. I was almost sure that when I went to try the knob, I would encounter a locked door. Fortunately, the lock, and our luck, turned. We entered an attractive but small room, outfitted with a long bar. The row of tables along the opposite wall featured banquettes outfitted in buttery-soft caramel leather. The lighting was gentle and the ceiling was outfitted in a handsome deep brown wood.

Rita Sodi, the restaurant's proprietress, was sipping wine at the bar with a friend. There was one young man in charge of the front of the house, who, in fact, managed to tend to all of the diners in the restaurant with enviable ease.

I was happy to find that I Sodi's menu didn't fall victim to the typical Sunday brunch trap, as I wasn't interested in the same huevos rancheros being served at every other restaurant around town. Traditional brunch foods were in fact disregarded completely; instead the menu was comprised of appetizers, pastas, meat and fish.

The bread basket was not only plentiful and varied, but it also featured first-rate breads: a perfect primer for our carbohydrate-excessive meal. The rate at which those slices disappeared was almost shameful.

At the server's recommendation, we ordered two pastas to share: a half-portion of the seafood risotto as well as the artichoke lasagna (not available in half-portions).

At $14, the seafood risotto was a real steal. Filled with plump, tender pieces of shrimp, octopus and calamari that had been chopped into bite-sized chunks, the risotto rendered a minimum of one piece of seafood to every creamy bite. And to me, our entree seemed less a half-portion and closer to a portion and a half.

The artichoke lasagna (also available in a meat version), $17, contained the wonderful flavor of artichoke without the tough leaves you sometimes encounter. Between sheets of pasta, onions, cheese and a bechamel sauce with a distinct nutmeg flavor complemented the artichokes. If there was a dish like this for every day, I might even consider becoming a vegetarian.

Despite my satiety at this point, not having dessert was not an option. We shared the fig marmalade crostata. It was beautifully-assembled, but I wished the filling had been more like a fig and less a marmalade. The texture was too much gooeyness for me.

Overall I was very pleased with my lunch at I Sodi. And even though there were no moules frites, we did get our shellfish and carbohydrates after all.