You will wait—and wait—for your white-clothed table at this non-casino jewel of a trattoria. But you won’t mind. Instead, you’ll shimmy up to the bar and calmly sip a glass of pinot grigio, patient in the knowledge that sometime that at some point in the evening you’ll be peeling tender leaves from a whole, breadcrumb-dusted artichoke, tucking into a straightforward pappardelle bolognese, maybe even savoring a filet of flounder gently swabbed by olives and tomatoes. Owner Joe Lautato has spent more than 20 years taking care of the well-dressed couples who come to (and wait in) his one-room bistro for exemplary Italian basics. Start with arugula glossy with olive oil. Go for a veal milanese made salad-like with balsamic-dressed tomatoes and basil. Don’t miss the marinara-soaked braciola on the “Sunday gravy” plate, the light-as-air ricotta-stuffed manicotti, or, if you’re a true diehard, tripe (which, of course, is worth the wait).