Franny's
Simplicity and sustainability drive Franny's, one of the newest stars in the New York pizza galaxy. With a focus on rigorously sourced ingredients and straightforward pies, Franny's is the kind of casual but delicious restaurant that makes you ready to pack up stakes and move to the neighborhood. Throw in the delightful and quiet garden in the back, and the realty office a few doors down starts to seem even more inviting.
On a recent visit, we started with a plate of mixed olives, which went wonderfully with our Bardolino and Ambra Rosato, reminding us of the vaguely guilty pleasure of a drinking lunch:
We followed our olives with a bowl of sugar snap peas tossed with green olive oil and lemon; they tasted like nothing so much as summer itself:
The pizza at Franny's is simple--there are only eight varieties that come out of the wood-burning oven, none with more than four ingredients atop the light, crispy, slightly charred crust. We had the tomato and buffalo mozzarella with sausage and the tomato, provolone piccante, and onion (not shown, unfortunately). The former was terrific, the latter among the best pizzas we've had, with the provolone providing a rich spiciness that makes each bit a small but delightful surprise:
And for dessert, the house-made cannolo, covered with pistachios and filled with a delicate lemony cream:
We hold out hope that Franny's will open an outpost in Manhattan; if not, well . . . if Muhammad won't go to the mountain . . .
On a recent visit, we started with a plate of mixed olives, which went wonderfully with our Bardolino and Ambra Rosato, reminding us of the vaguely guilty pleasure of a drinking lunch:
We followed our olives with a bowl of sugar snap peas tossed with green olive oil and lemon; they tasted like nothing so much as summer itself:
The pizza at Franny's is simple--there are only eight varieties that come out of the wood-burning oven, none with more than four ingredients atop the light, crispy, slightly charred crust. We had the tomato and buffalo mozzarella with sausage and the tomato, provolone piccante, and onion (not shown, unfortunately). The former was terrific, the latter among the best pizzas we've had, with the provolone providing a rich spiciness that makes each bit a small but delightful surprise:
And for dessert, the house-made cannolo, covered with pistachios and filled with a delicate lemony cream:
We hold out hope that Franny's will open an outpost in Manhattan; if not, well . . . if Muhammad won't go to the mountain . . .
