Tag: travel

It was a beautiful Friday night on the green in New Milford as we made our way to Lucia Ristorante, located on historic Bank Street. The street feels like a scene out of 1950s America, with old-school theaters, storefront businesses, and residential apartments above.

We were heading out to celebrate our friend’s birthday with our wildly successful, humorous, glorious, good-looking couples group. The group used to be bigger but has now been suitably curated to magnificence by removing some malignancies that once threatened the whole.

Having grown a bit burnt out on our own town’s dining scene, we were looking for a nice spot that still respected the golden radius of restaurants, which must stay within 30 minutes of home.

Lucia’s is an Italian restaurant which, according to its own website, describes itself as a gem of a place where head chef Antonio can please any member of your family. After my second visit, I don’t dispute the first claim. And as long as the second refers strictly to food, I can get behind that too.

The restaurant layout spans two levels, and I prefer the second. Fortunately, both times we’ve visited, we were seated upstairs. I think it’s due to our group size, which has been on the larger side. The upstairs dining area is nicer than the downstairs, and both levels include a bar.

Our first interaction was with the Water Person, who asked if tap water was acceptable. This always feels like a Grey Poupon moment to me. It’s the phrasing, like are you trash who wants tap water, or someone worthy of bottled or sparkling water sourced from an Italian cave where an old woman has been washing family linens for 100 generations. We got the tap water. Sorry, Momma Leonie.

The menu has several items that interest me, and they always offer some excellent specials as well.

When we sit down, our group tends to split between the gentlemen and the ladies. The boys usually talk about professions and sports, or, in this case, one of us meeting the world-renowned Tom Brady with pictures to prove it. The ladies dive into the gossip, the juicy bits, skin color palettes, and what the kids have been up to.

Bread service was solid. A nice fluffy dinner roll was served with cold, not spreadable butter, olive oil, and a small dish of pecorino cheese. My favorite touch was the homemade giardiniera, pickled vegetables that tasted great on the bread.

For appetizers, I ordered the Calamari Lucia, which came sautéed with beans, arugula, and cherry peppers in a white tomato broth. We also had a special, prosciutto-wrapped something. I can’t fully recall, writing this a few days later, but there were some vegetables involved. The calamari, which was the star, was a little chewy but very tasty. The prosciutto-wrapped mystery bites were also good, though neither dish was a showstopper.

For my entrée, I was torn between the black spaghetti and the seafood paella. I went with the black spaghetti and felt confident either choice would have made me happy. The squid ink pasta came with Gulf shrimp, sea scallops, mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, and arugula in a cream sauce. The dish was excellent. The pasta was perfectly cooked and well seasoned. The cream sauce was delicious and not too heavy. The seafood was the star and was tender and perfectly cooked.

Our waitress did a commendable job. Everything that came out looked excellent and would be worth trying on a return visit.

Even though the entrées were generous portions, we still made room for dessert. My wife had already informed the table that Lucia’s has excellent desserts, including several multi-layer cakes. She picked the pistachio layer cake, which we’ve had before and knew was good, and paired it with coffee. I went with a decaf cappuccino.

At some point, the owner dimmed the lights. In hindsight, this may have been a gentle warning that they were closing soon. We interpreted it as ambiance, setting the mood, which, as my friend astutely predicted, I would absolutely include in this blog post.

We happily continued our conversations as time drifted by. Eventually, we gathered our things and made our way outside, still laughing into the night.

The air was warm, the stars were out, and the streets of Bank Street felt like a movie set with a 1950s green Ford truck parked outside. There is something timeless about a summer night spent with people who know you, make you laugh, and genuinely enjoy your company. Nights like these remind me that good food is just the backdrop. The real magic is the connection, being together.

Friendship, laughter, stories passed back and forth like bread at the table. It was all there. We stood outside for a while, not wanting to break the spell, just grateful for the kind of evening that lingers long after the last plate is cleared.

Final Verdict: 8.75/10

We have a saying when we’re out: “Don’t say home, say Tambascio’s.” Tambascio’s is our local spot, truly just down the road from our houses. We go through phases where we visit often, then somehow forget it, only to find ourselves saying, “Why didn’t we just go to Tambascio’s?” I think part of the reason it gets overlooked sometimes is its proximity to home. Familiarity doesn’t breed contempt in this case, just a kind of complacency when deciding where to eat.

This review isn’t completely impartial, but the statements are 100 percent true.

We went on a Wednesday night around 5:30 PM, and the restaurant was relatively quiet. We were greeted by the owner, who we know, and a friendly hostess. John, the owner, quickly told her to seat us at Table 23. I thought to myself, “Michael Jordan’s table in the corner.” I don’t think there are 23 tables in the place, so maybe he’s holding out hope that MJ strolls in after a stop at the Creamery and says, “I need a table.” To which John will respond, “Right this way, Mr. Jordan. We have a special one just for you.”

Most restaurants these days don’t have the owner on the floor or in the kitchen, and I really appreciate John’s presence and love for his restaurant. It shows in the little things, which are geared toward the patron rather than the restaurant like spacing people out so they aren’t on top of one another.

At Tambascio’s, they have someone designated for water and bread. I’m sure there’s an official title, but I’ll just call her the “Bread Lady.” Unfortunately, this Bread Lady wasn’t quite as warm and fresh as the rolls she delivered. But that’s okay, because we had Dale as our server. Dale is a local who has been there for years. He’s outstanding, professional, and friendly.

Since it was the Wednesday after Mother’s Day, the specials menu still had “Mother’s Day” printed at the top. That initially made me hesitant, especially because I had my eye on the Paella de Valencia. As my father used to ask when it came to seafood: “Is it fresh?”

My son, now graduated from the kids’ menu, ordered the Chicken Saltimbocca Milanese. My wife chose the New York Strip and Shrimp Marsala instead of just the lonely strip.

Dale asked if we wanted to add a soup or salad to our entrées. I wasn’t planning to, but then he mentioned they had a homemade clam chowder. We also ordered the grilled sausage and broccoli rabe as an appetizer.

We were starving despite having eaten that day. We’re just the “always hungry” types. We went through two baskets of bread: the first with rolls, the second with sliced bread. I wondered if the first basket was the “show pony,” and the second was like, “Come on, guys, this is a linen-covered table, not a flop house.”

The broccoli rabe and sausage appetizer was delicious. The rabe was cooked perfectly; sweet, with just enough bite and texture without fighting your teeth. The sausage complemented the greens really well.

The white clam chowder, which I shared with my son, was also very good. The texture wasn’t as thick as a diner-style chowder, which I appreciated. It had a smoother mouthfeel, more like a Manhattan-style chowder, something few places do anymore.

The entrées all arrived on time and piping hot. After our first bites, we looked at each other and said what we always end up saying: “Why haven’t we been here more often?” The food was outstanding. My paella was overflowing with clams, mussels, shrimp, scallops, and andouille sausage over fragrant saffron rice. One thing that always impresses me about Tambascio’s is the quality of the seafood; it’s a notch above even most seafood-focused restaurants.

My wife’s entrée was also excellent. Normally, ordering a steak at an Italian restaurant is a huge mistake, like the Goldbergs ordering trout at Beefsteak Charlie’s. But the quality and consistency of the cooking here surpass 90 percent of dedicated steakhouses. After we had finished, John came over to check in. We told him how much we appreciated the food, especially the seafood and steak. He let us know they cut the steaks fresh to order, and that they actually had a new cook preparing them that night.

The final piece of the puzzle is the price. For both the quantity and quality, Tambascio’s is exceptional better than most alternatives, especially for a nice dinner out.

We ended the night with two decaf cappuccinos and two tartufos: one for my wife and me to share, and one for our son. Content and satisfied at lucky Table 23, we didn’t see Michael Jordan, but honestly, he couldn’t have made the food any better.