NYCReview
At Monte’s, a small poster of Jesus hangs in the visible kitchen, a bartender mixes Cosmopolitans, and a host hangs by the door until a group he knows arrives, at which point he loosens his collar, grabs a bottle of wine, and sits down to dinner. The dining room is covered in framed photos of Monte's, which opened in 1918, and the tables fill with tourists, groups who come here often and know every server, and a few people who had no idea this semi-subterranean Italian spot ever existed, but were on a hunt for fried calamari.
There’s an excellent tartufo for dessert, but the food is generally unremarkable, and dishes lean pricey. Still, if you need a break from small plate wine bars, you could do worse than coming to this Greenwich Village institution for some cheese ravioli in Chef Boyardee-esque marinara, and some red wine. Or go to Villa Mosconi, run by the same family, down the street.
photo credit: Willa Moore
