Monte’s…

Last Friday, we walked around Greenwich Village looking for two gluten-free places that were on my list of places to check out. 

When we got to the intersection of Bleeker Street and MacDougal, we both looked to the right and saw it! Monte’s!

Monte’s Trattoria is where Marty and I had our first date back in January of 1985. I remember the day like it was yesterday.

Marty picked me up in his little white Alfa Romero. We parked his car at Metropark Train Station and jumped on an NJ Transit train. We pulled into Penn Station and walked around midtown. Christmas decorations were still up and it was cold out.

We went to the Hard Rock Cafe for an early lunch. We were seated next to the band Wang Chung, which was pretty cool. We walked over to Rockefeller Center and while we were watching the ice skaters below he kissed me. It really was one of those magical moments that happen once in a lifetime.

We were both head over heels and knew that we were meant to be together. Can you fall in love that quickly? 

I decided right then and there that I needed to be my authentic self with him; I was tired of trying to act a certain way so guys would like me. Our personalities and upbringings were completely opposite, so if this was going to work, I had to be me. 

Before things got too far and I let myself get hurt, I told him, “Look, I drink, I smoke, and I curse, so if you don’t like it, that’s too fucking bad.” He immediately shot back, “What are you doing tomorrow night?” 😂

We made our way downtown to walk around the “Village.” We both loved the village, and both had our favorite spots. We stopped for drinks at a few different places and ended up at Monte’s. I wasn’t familiar with it, then he led me down the stairs to the restaurant. 

Monte’s is a small Italian restaurant that opened in 1918. It was and still is the real fucking deal. We sat at a table for two. There was a man sitting directly behind me, alone at a two-top as well. I looked at him before I sat down. He looked businesslike and scholarly. 

He was dressed well, although I couldn’t imagine why he was sitting with a winter trench coat on since it was hot in the restaurant. He wore glasses and seemed well-groomed.

As we were sipping our drinks and enjoying each course coming out of the kitchen the man was having a conversation. A loud and angry conversation at times. The Maître d’ went over several times pleading, “Senor, please, quiet down and stop cursing there are people right behind you.” 

The man obviously didn’t give a shit who was around him; he had an argument to win. He must be a big-time lawyer or an NYU professor, I thought. While we were having our desserts the man got up and left. The maître d’ apologized again for the man’s rudeness.

I said to Marty, “That man must be rich to spend that much money on so many cell phone minutes.” I thought he had to be loaded to afford a cellphone back in 1985; they had only been on the market for two years.

Marty started cracking up and could barely breathe, let alone tell me what was so funny. “He wasn’t on the phone; he was talking to himself.” I was shocked, “You mean he was fucking nuts?” Marty replied, “Yes.” Sad, but very funny at the same time.

Dinner at Monte’s was one of the best dinners and nights of my life. I remember the food and desserts were excellent. Everything was made in-house; it was old-world cooking on an upscale level.

That was the last time we were in Monte’s until Friday. We were both so excited when we saw it. Marty grabbed my hand and he led me down the stairs to the restaurant. 

We walked in, and the place looked just as it had 37 years ago. It wasn’t dated after all that time; it was simple elegance. The bathroom had been recently renovated, probably during the pandemic shut down.

As I recall, Monte’s bathroom could have used a renovation. It is a one-person restroom that is now gorgeous with shiny white subway tiles, a new sink, toilet, lighting, and a huge mirror. I have a thing about checking out bathrooms in places I am in; I have done it since I was a little girl. I would report back at the table what the bathroom was like. LOL!

A few diners were having a late lunch. Two guys were sitting at the corner of the small bar, and a bartender was dressed like high-end, old-school bartenders do.

We sat at the bar and told the bartender that this was where we had our first date in ’85. He asked why we waited so long to come back. Lol! The two guys at the bar laughed at that one as well. We knew we were going to like this guy.

We ordered a couple of cocktails and sat talking to everyone at the bar. We are bar people and always feel more comfortable sitting at a bar instead of a table. We have met many interesting people at bars over the years.

We felt welcomed and at home there; that’s the vibe the place gave us back then and now. We didn’t eat because it was midday since we were still stuffed from the curry wurst and fries. 

The chef, Chef Mosconi, came out of the kitchen to say hello. He spoke in English but spoke Italian back and forth to a patron leaving and the guys at the bar. When he heard we were from Vermont, he told us his wife went to college at St. Joseph’s in Rutland, VT. She was a teacher. Marty told him he had worked in Rutland for years.

We also found out he was the chef when we were last there. He started “in the business” in ’83. He was very friendly and looked like what you would imagine an Italian chef to look like. His parents ran the restaurant beforehand; a black and white photo of them standing behind the bar is hanging up.

Chef Mosconi cooks food true to his Italian roots with love; he is passionate about making different kinds of stuffed pasta.

The walls in Monte’s are full of celebrities that have dined at Monte’s over the years. There are photos of currently famous people and all the biggies like Sinatra who frequented the place.

Monte’s is a neighborhood institution. It is on a food and history walking tour of Greenwich village. A tour group came into the restaurant while we were there. Ironically, I am going on a similar walking tour with my sister Jennifer in a couple of weeks. This had been planned long before Marty and I even knew would be in the city for Hamilton. I spoke with the tour guide, who may be my tour guide.

We finished our drinks and paid the tab. We thanked everyone and said our goodbyes. The bartender told us not to wait so long to come back. We all laughed. 

I told him the one thing I learned during the pandemic is you don’t get time back and don’t know how long you have. You have to do things and live life. You can’t keep on waiting as we did. I snapped a few photos and whispered to the restaurant, “We will be back soon.” 

Besides Hamilton, this was the highlight of the trip for me. I still felt like a young girl with this funny and handsome guy. I never imagined that night we would be back 37 years later. That’s Amore! 😍