Trey Popp was turned off by his first taste of Pat Bombino’s but subsequent dishes picked up the slack.
But like a leadoff batter who goes down on strikes only to reach base the next eight times in a row, Pat Bombino’s proceeded to hit the sweet spot with each new thing I tried. And among the walks and singles, it even managed to knock a couple over the right-field fence.
The first home run came in the form of slow-cooked duck falling to shreds over freshly cut pappardelle. Here was the warmth I’d been craving. The pasta was simply perfect, and the rich ragout had a haunting, mouth-coating flavor so subtle that I couldn’t quite pin down the spice responsible. A faint trace of nutmeg? Mace? I didn’t want to rob the dish of its mysterious allure by asking.
Pat’s A Nice [City Paper]