Restaurant Review From You: a Mano Osteria and Wine Bar

Put down the hamburger and fries and step away from the formica.

Foodies of the world, you have nothing to lose but indifferent taste buds and expanding waistlines. Take yourself, and someone who loves you and loves the thought of sharing a delicious meal with you, to on Route 25 in Mattituck.

I speak of the kitchen of who prepares everything “from scratch”— that term Julia made famous. At a Mano, he has created a cuisine wherein you savor each course and cannot help but guess at the ingredients which tease the palette.

I have been trying to get to a Mano for two years. Coming from the beach in New Suffolk recently — sandy feet, wrinkled shirt and slacks, sunburned, windblown, and me, without makeup, I noted some people gathered on its front patio.  Disheveled as we were, we politely inquired if we might be seated for lunch. A welcome gesture brought us into the linened dining room where two families relaxed in quiet celebration.

Seated comfortably and with a thirst, we ordered a local pinot grigio from Villa Borghese for me, and a delicious, generous martini for my guy. After a morning of sun and swimming in a secret cove and talking of life’s twists, waist-deep in the clean waters of New Suffolk Bay, we found these to be perfect libations for those of us who “would ‘st quaff. ”

We began with two entrées that suited our personalities. William had meatballs with mozzarella in a piquant tomato sauce. The beef was finely ground with snippets of fresh basil standing to attention, adorned with a melty mozarella, fresh and creamy. Small rounded crab cakes rich with meat, not bread, were embraced in a light cornmeal crust, underpinned by a cilantro aoli; the crab cakes more than spoke for themselves. Having slaved over crab cakes in my own kitchen à la a Bobby Flay recipe, let me tell you that Chef Tom’s cakes would win in a cook-off with the Hunk of Cook-Offs.

Delighted with our antipasti, we decided to share a salad. Our choice was the watercress salad — with scrumptious slow-roasted pears and walnuts, and creamy gorgonzola mixed with a light balsamic vinaigrette. The pears were just right, as were all the ingredients in this healthful salad — the sweet-bitter bite of fresh watercress, the smoky contrast of burnished walnuts, and the sweet red onion all comfortable in a perfectly tossed vinaigrette.

William chose the pan-roasted rosemary chicken with roasted potatoes, garlic, shallots, and a distinctive imported pancetta. The tagliatelle dish was to be my dish of choice from the menu. I noted the saffron and roasted corn ingredients and the decision was easy.

Neither William nor I was disappointed. Will loves a good roast chicken; it serves up memories of his early years in Brooklyn and his Irish-American mother who instilled a tradition of the Sunday dinner (that was the time of un-chemicalized meat when chicken tasted like chicken and not cardboard), served Sundays in their home on 94th Street. As Fitzgerald said, “And so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” The roast chicken transported William to those times, long gone, when life resonated with simple choices and good fare.

For me, life never seemed uncomplicated; therefore, someone who plays with ingredients like saffron and fresh corn competes with Picasso — usually they have labored to master the tools, found the freshest of ingredients and like to play the proportional odds.

We did not have appetite for dessert, but, as everything was so extraordinary, we decided we had, at the least, to try the homemade cannoli. Please do not miss this melt-in the-mouth sweet: creamy ricotta avec le subtle snap of fresh-grated cinnamon, and, I think, a hint of cardamom. It was the perfect end to a perfect meal, but for the white dessert wine, a gift from the bar, to these sated but appreciative diners.

After giving compliments to the staff, for the outstanding meal and service, we departed to the beach, with good memories of an anniversary well-marked by the exceptional repast. With a generous tip, the bill was within reason for a celebration of 50 years together — so we splurged, having enjoyed the best meal we have had on the Island. Bravo and thanks to Chef Schaudel, and the conscientious staff of a Mano, for giving us the pleasure of good food that afternoon.

Shortell McSweeney is an attorney who avoids hedge fund managers, mortgage brokers, and politicians who refute liberal ideals. Instead, she cooks with her grandchildren on a regular basis.