Anella

Anella opened its doors less than a year ago in May 2009. It took over the space of what was previously Queens Hideaway, and owner’s apartment of said former restaurant. The spaces were combined by new owners, Josh Cohen and Blair Papagni, into one space with the bar occupying the once residential side of the space and the restaurant and kitchen filling in the rest. Inside, the restaurant is warm and inviting, and could be described as a sort of industrial rustic. There is wood paneling, brown leather banquettes, marble topped bistro tables, and niches in the wall decorated with birch logs and pinecones. Lest it forget the industrial roots of the neighborhood it finds itself in on the corner of Greene St. and Franklin in the northern most part of Greenpoint, the decorator was sure to preserve touches like the tin ceilings and crumbling plaster wall with Plexiglas shields over the most decrepit spots.
The main reason for my visit is to see how the new chef at Anella, Joseph Ogrodnek, was settling in. Ogrodnek in his first stint as executive chef, (He has worked previously at no less than Opus 251, Pigalle, Tabla, Union Square Café, Alain Ducasse at the Essex House, and Gramercy Tavern), has been at Anella now for nearly a month bringing with him a new menu combining elements of classic American influence by Mediterranean ingredients.
The weather as I worked my way to the front door of the restaurant had turned raw and started to mist a little bit, with a cold and damp February wind whipping off the east river. I was seated at a table near the front of the restaurant and the meal to follow was the type of answer I was looking for to the miserable weather outside, with it’s use of a wintery palate of ingredients with uplifting and fresh flavors to chase away the blahs.
My intro to the meal was a cocktail: the Intro to Aperol, a gin concoction given a bitter orange flavor and pink color by the titular liquor.
This was brought to me along with a small loaf of homemade bread that was baked in a clay flowerpot that gave it the appearance of a giant popover, as well as kept the bread warm from the residual heat in the clay.
I had to check myself to keep from eating too much bread though because my first course was a crustini with verata cheese, a close cousin to mozzarella, whipped with olive oil and studded with castlevetrano olives, a Sicilian variety that olive lovers clamor for. The bright green, yet smooth flavor of the olive, which the staff aptly described as like artichokes, complimented and uplifted the creamy cheese setting the tone for the rest of the meal.
My next dish was roast broccoli with watercress and pecorino oro. Again roast broccoli is a dish that had the possibility to be heavy, but the peppery cress and the slight piquancy of the aged pecorino and lemon juice gave it a fresh, spring-like flavor, a light tone with heavy ingredients.
For a main, I chose the Chatham cod with a potato crust and braised fennel. I must admit that I was a little thrown by the potato, fired potato is a heavy flavor, though I did enjoy the crunch it added to the fish. However, the name of the game was still uplifting flavors with a sweetness and tartness brought by the fennel and a reduction sauce made with olives.
Finally, for desert Ogrodnek stretches to the far reaches of the Mediterranean with phyllo wrapped, almond cigars, which are essentially baklava reinvented. The idea is basically the same, dates and almonds are wrapped in phyllo and drizzled with honey. The gilding on the lily, to misquote Shakespeare, is a honey whipped cream in which to dip the cigars. The spicy flavor of the local honey and a slight hint of orange zest round out the weightiness of the dish.
The soft-spoken Ogrodnek after my meal, he was genuinely excited to be taking on the creative task of making a menu and running a restaurant of his own. Using locally sourced ingredients, some of which are even grown in the back garden as well as from Rooftop Garden across the street, the menu changes to reflect the season, keeping it local in this intimate neighborhood hideaway.