I Ate My Way Through Tucci NYC And Now I Have A New Favorite Italian Restaurant In The City

 Six dishes, one very full stomach, and zero regrets.

Tucci NYC is the kind of Italian restaurant that makes you want to call your most dramatic friend and say, "We need to go here immediately." It's warm without being stuffy, elevated without being intimidating. Here is everything we ate - and you should too.

Appetizer

1. TUCCI MEATBALLS — Calabrian Chili Marinara, Manchego | $27

We're starting here because you should always start with meatballs, and these earn their spot on the menu. The Calabrian chili marinara brings just enough heat to feel intentional — not a garnish, not an afterthought — and the Manchego on top adds this slightly funky, salty edge that you didn't know you needed. These are not your Sunday-sauce meatballs. These are meatballs with a point of view.

Verdict: 8/10. Order them. Perfect for sharing.

2. TUNA CARPACCIO — Fennel, Capers, Crispy Shallots, Lemon Aioli | $31

This dish is doing a lot and somehow pulling all of it off. The tuna is silky and clean, the fennel keeps things bright, and the crispy shallots are the unsung hero of the whole plate. The lemon aioli ties it together in a way that feels almost too effortless. It's the kind of dish that looks delicate on the table and then hits you with actual flavor. A very good sign for what's coming.

Verdict: 9/10. The move is to order this and feel very sophisticated.

3. CACIO E PEPE E TARTUFO — Black Truffles, Bucatini, Pecorino | $46

Okay. This is the dish. If you come to Tucci and you don't order this, I genuinely don't know what you're doing. The bucatini is cooked perfectly and the black truffle situation here is generous in a way that feels almost reckless. Pecorino adds the salt and the sharpness. The pepper is present and accounted for. Every bite is deeply satisfying in that specific, pasta-brained way where you stop talking mid-sentence.

Verdict: 10/10. Non-negotiable. You're getting this.

4. FETTUCCINI FRA DIAVOLO — Jumbo Prawns, Calabrian Chili, Basil | $48

The fra diavolo is bold, spicy, and unapologetic, which honestly, respect. The jumbo prawns are cooked well — not rubbery, not overdone, just tender enough that they feel like a treat rather than an obligation. The Calabrian chili is making a second appearance on this menu and at this point I'm convinced Tucci has a type, and that type is heat with intention. The basil cuts through everything at just the right moment. A dish for people who like their pasta to talk back.

Verdict: 8.5/10. Order this if you like things spicy and your fettuccini with ambition.

5. CHICKEN PARMESAN — Smoked Vodka Sauce | $41

Listen, chicken parm is a test. Every Italian restaurant in New York City serves it and most of them are fine. Tucci's is not just fine — it's actually interesting, which is harder to pull off than it sounds. The smoked vodka sauce is the differentiator here. There's a subtle smokiness that runs through the whole dish and makes it feel like a deliberate reinvention rather than a menu filler. The chicken itself is crispy where it should be and the cheese pull is very much present and very much delivering. Classic format, surprising execution.

Verdict: 8/10. Respect to a chicken parm that has something to say.

6. DELMONICO RIBEYE — 16oz Brandt Family Farms, Braised Cipollini Onion, Natural Jus | $79

And then there's this. The ribeye arrives looking exactly like a ribeye should look — imposing, confident, already winning. The Brandt Family Farms sourcing matters here; you can taste the quality in how clean and rich the beef flavor is, with nothing masking it. The natural jus keeps things honest. The braised cipollini onion is doing its job on the side. At $79 this is the table's anchor and it holds that role without drama.

Verdict: 9/10. If you're going to do a steakhouse move at an Italian restaurant, this is the one.

Tucci NYC is the rare restaurant that plays upscale Italian without losing warmth or flavor in the process. The menu has range — from the sharp, acidic brightness of the carpaccio to the deeply savory truffle pasta to a ribeye that belongs in a conversation about the best steaks in the city — and it all feels cohesive. Not trying to be everything, just trying to be very good at one specific, delicious thing.

Go with someone you want to impress, or go alone and order the cacio e pepe. Either way, you're coming back.

I Ate A 7-Course Dinner In A Basement While The Whole Room Controlled The Playlist

And it was the most fun I have had at a restaurant. Ever.

Tokyo Record Bar is located underground at 127 MacDougal Street in Greenwich Village. The whole experience exists slightly outside of normal reality. Here's the setup: you descend into a basement that looks like something you'd find down a Shibuya back alley (dim, intimate, cherry blossom-adorned) and squeeze into what is essentially a small izakaya room. The chef decides what you eat. You decide what everyone listens to.

When you sit down, a server hands you a vinyl menu - a booklet of records spanning basically every genre and era imaginable. Every table in the room picks a song or two, and the DJ weaves all the selections into one communal all-vinyl playlist that soundtracks the entire meal. You might submit Elton John. The couple next to you might go with Jackson 5. Someone will inevitably pick ABBA and the room will collectively decide that's fine, actually.

Then the food starts coming. The seven-course omakase is izakaya-style. Expect things like salmon sashimi, octopus, something braised and rich toward the end like duck, and two desserts. In case you are still hungry at the end of the meal, they serve you a surprise course of fresh slice of pizza to-go.

The talented visionary behind the food absolutely deserves her flowers. Executive Chef Ignacia Valdés is a Chilean chef who came up through Michelin-starred kitchens in Paris and New York — Ze Kitchen Galerie, Contra, and Frevo, where she was in the kitchen when it earned its Michelin star. She's also a San Pellegrino Young Chef finalist. In a field still largely dominated by men, she brings a genuinely distinct voice to the menu: Chilean roots, Japanese finesse, French technique, all coming together in a compact high-energy kitchen. She writes a new menu every evening using fresh fish flown in from Japan and Europe, which means the seven courses you get on a Tuesday will not be the same seven courses someone else got last weekend. That kind of commitment is not nothing.

Tokyo Record Bar is the rare NYC dining experience that actually earns the word "experience." It's chaotic in the best way, the food is solid to stand on its own, and there's something weirdly moving about eating dinner while a room full of people collectively curate the soundtrack. You'll leave full on izakaya courses, slightly attached to the strangers you shared a playlist with, and weirdly nostalgic for a place you were just at. 

I Went To A Burlesque Dinner Show In NYC And It Genuinely Slapped

 Duane Park is not what you expect. It’s better.

I'd walked past Duane Park on the Bowery more times than I could count and always wondered what was happening inside. When I finally looked it up and saw the words "burlesque dinner show," I was curious enough to just go. So on a Sunday evening, I attended Beyond the Velvet Rope, stepped through the door, and immediately understood what all the mystery was about. The premise is this: the velvet rope is a literal barrier between Duane Park's world of glamor and the hum-drum grit of New York City outside. One step beyond it, and you're somewhere else entirely.

The dining room whisks you back a few decades into a world of enchantment and refinement. Well-spaced tables, candlelight, the kind of atmosphere that makes you sit up a little straighter and order the fancy cocktail. It doesn't feel kitschy. It feels intentional. The room is genuinely glamorous, and the whole thing is unlike any other Sunday night this city has offered me.

The food at a dinner-and-show situation has every reason to be an afterthought. At Duane Park it is absolutely not. The four-course dinner is part of the $149 per person package, and it earns that price tag. The burrata arrives in an english pea velouté with smoked gochujang — chaotic on paper, genius on the palate. The duck toast is duck confit on toasted brioche with a sour cherry-white miso jam that I am still thinking about. For entrees, the Szechuan Tuna au Poivre with asian pear, carrot-smoked olive oil emulsion, and ginger-soy is the kind of dish that belongs at a much more serious restaurant. And the Dubai Chocolate Cheesecake with pistachio and shredded phyllo? I genuinely considered a second one.

The band strikes a chord, the singer wails, and the performers hit poses you did not know a human body could achieve in that lighting. Beyond the Velvet Rope is a full burlesque experience — theatrical without being campy, playful without being cringe. The energy in the room shifts the moment it begins, and by the time dessert hits, the whole table has loosened up in the best way. There is genuinely nothing else like it in New York City on a Sunday night.

Seating is at 6pm sharp and they are not kidding — if you arrive more than fifteen minutes late, you forfeit your seats and still get charged the full price. Show up on time, because you do not want to miss a single minute of what happens in that room. The band is live, the singer is the kind of performer that makes you forget to check your phone, and the burlesque acts hit a level of glamor and theatricality that feels genuinely transporting. It's the kind of show that makes you understand why people used to get dressed up to go out on a Sunday night. Beyond the Velvet Rope runs Sundays at 6pm, $149 per person for the four-course dinner and show. Book it.