This was a week with two distinct personalities. The first half moved between New York lunches, a surprising food court discovery at Brookfield Place, and a mid-week dinner in Fairfield that delivered exactly what the evening needed. Then the weekend arrived and it became something else entirely — a full Easton Saturday of local farms and sandwiches, followed by an Easter Sunday feast built around herb-crusted lamb chops, truffle mac and cheese, and a homemade Limoncello Ricotta Cheesecake that earned every minute it took to make. Some weeks are about the restaurants. This one was also about the kitchen.
Monday: Leftovers Again, and That’s a Good Thing
Another week opened the right way — with the fridge still full from a weekend of serious cooking.
At this point, Monday leftovers have become something I actually look forward to. There’s no rush, no decision fatigue, no figuring out what to order. Just the quiet payoff of effort already made. If you cooked well on the weekend, Monday takes care of itself.
Tuesday: Cacio e Pepe at Eataly, Then Cheese and Charcuterie at Home
Back in the city, back to Eataly for lunch — and this time it was the Cacio e Pepe.
Perfect. That’s the only word for it. There’s a version of that dish that’s technically correct and a version that stops you mid-bite, and this was the latter. The pasta coated in that glossy, peppery pecorino sauce, nothing extraneous, nothing missing. Eataly consistently reminds me that Italian simplicity done with real intention is one of the highest forms of cooking.
Dinner was a different story — I got home late and kept it light. Cheese, prosciutto, salami, crackers. The kind of meal that asks nothing of you and still manages to feel like a good decision. Sometimes that’s exactly right.
Wednesday: Brookfield Place, All’Antico Vinaio & South Bay for Dinner
Wednesday was one of those days that rewarded curiosity.
With warmer weather arriving, I’ve been walking around the World Trade area at lunch instead of defaulting to the usual spots. This time I made my way over to Brookfield Place and came away genuinely impressed — both by the building itself and by what’s inside. This is not your typical food court. The options range from Del Frisco’s Grille to Chopt, and the whole space feels elevated in a way that most dining concourses simply aren’t. I clocked a line about fifty deep at Dig Inn — a note made for next time — but if you know me at all, you already know where I ended up.
All’Antico Vinaio at Brookfield Place. The legendary Florentine sandwich shop, born in Florence in 1991, now planted right in Lower Manhattan — and it’s every bit as good as the reputation. I ordered the Italian Hot: turkey, ‘nduja, provolone, Calabrian chili honey, arugula, all packed into freshly baked Tuscan schiacciata bread. Wow. The heat from the ‘nduja, the sweetness of the Calabrian chili honey, the peppery arugula — it hit every note. I also made mental notes of Parm and Mighty Quinn BBQ for future visits, because this place clearly deserves more than one lunch.
📍 All’Antico Vinaio | 225 Liberty St, New York, NY ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
The food energy carried right into the evening. I met my wife off the train and we headed to South Bay in Fairfield for dinner. I went straight for the Sicilian Manhattan — the Averna makes it something special, smooth and just slightly bitter in that perfect amaro way. My wife kicked off Aperol Spritz season, which felt entirely appropriate given the weather.
For food, she had the burger and I ordered the chicken piccata. Solid, well-executed, the kind of dish that does its job without any fuss. The vibe and environment were great — South Bay has that easy energy that makes you want to stay longer than you planned. We finished with the cheesecake, which was fine, though I wasn’t entirely sure it was housemade. Good enough to finish, not the kind you think about on the drive home. Still a good dinner overall.
📍 South Bay Fairfield | 1591 Post Rd, Fairfield, CT ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Thursday: Brewport Pizza
Thursday was straightforward and exactly what it needed to be.
Brewport for pizza, and it was excellent. Some nights don’t need a narrative — they just need good dough, good cheese, and the right atmosphere to eat it in. Brewport delivered all three.
📍 Brewport | 225 S Frontage Rd, Bridgeport, CT ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Friday: Leftovers
Friday was a rest day at the table. Sometimes that’s exactly what the week needs before a big weekend.
Saturday: A Full Easton Day — Greiser’s, Shaggy Coos, Silverman’s & A Cheesecake
Saturday was an Easton day from start to finish, and it was exactly the kind of day that reminds me why we chose this town.
We started at Greiser’s Coffee & Market for sandwiches. Tucked into a 220-year-old building at the center of Easton, Greiser’s is one of those places that feels like it belongs to the town in the best possible way. I got the BBQ turkey and my wife got the blazin’ chicken. Both were excellent — the kind of sandwiches that are better than they have any right to be for a little market cafe in the middle of a quiet farm town. We won’t be the last time we end up here on a Saturday.
📍 Greiser’s Coffee & Market | 299 Center Rd, Easton, CT ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
From there we headed to Shaggy Coos Farm to pick up some beef. This is a family-run farm just down the road, operating on an honor system, raising livestock humanely without antibiotics or hormones. Grass-fed beef from a farm you can actually visit — that’s the kind of ingredient that makes cooking feel worthwhile before you even get it home.
📍 Shaggy Coos Farm | 53 Center Rd, Easton, CT ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Then Silverman’s Farm for pies. Another Easton institution — this one has been here since the 1920s and shows no signs of slowing down. The farm market is stocked with fresh-baked pies, local honey, preserves, and enough New England charm to make any Saturday errand feel like a small event.
📍 Silverman’s Farm | 451 Sport Hill Rd, Easton, CT ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Then came the cooking. I made the Limoncello Ricotta Cheesecake — and it was one of those baking projects that pays back every bit of effort you put in. Bright, creamy, with that unmistakable lemon and limoncello lift cutting through the richness of the ricotta. A dessert that feels Italian from the first bite to the last.
Sunday: Easter Feast
Sunday was for family, and it was built to show up for the occasion.
We started with meats and cheeses — the easy, convivial opening that gets everyone settled and happy before the main event. Then came an arugula salad with goat cheese and strawberries, dressed with a homemade honey vinaigrette. Bright and fresh, exactly the right note to set before a rich holiday meal.
The truffle mac and cheese came next — gluten-free from Yo Mama’s — and it was a hit around the table. Then the honey glazed ham from Fresh Market, which did exactly what a glazed ham should do: sweet, tender, and completely satisfying.
But the star was the herb-crusted French cut lamb chops. Seared first to build a crust, then finished in the oven to get that perfect rosy center. There is nothing quite like a properly cooked lamb chop — the herbs, the fat rendering into the pan, the moment you cut through and everything looks exactly right. It was one of those dishes where the table goes quiet for a moment and everyone just eats.
Dessert was the Limoncello Ricotta Cheesecake from Saturday’s baking session, alongside a Dutch apple pie from Silverman’s Farm and some Easter candy to close it all out. The in-laws were there. My son too. A full table, a full meal, and a Sunday that felt like the kind of holiday memory you actually want to hold onto.
Closing Reflection
This week had layers.
The quick Cacio e Pepe that reset a Tuesday. A food court in Lower Manhattan that genuinely surprised me. An Italian sandwich at All’Antico Vinaio that I’ll be thinking about the next time I’m near Brookfield Place. A Sicilian Manhattan at South Bay that earned its reputation. And then an Easton Saturday that reminded me how much is right here — local farms, great sandwiches, a cheesecake worth baking from scratch.
Easter Sunday brought it all together. Lamb chops seared in cast iron, a table full of people, a pie from a farm down the road. That’s the Amore Life in practice — not just in restaurants, but in the kitchen, at the table, and in the town you’ve chosen to call yours.
This week felt rooted. And that felt exactly right.