Night 1-The Art of Ravioli

In an article about the restaurant Babbo, in Lower Manhattan, NY Times reporter Sam Sifton writes about the ravioli. (For many years, Chef Boyardee, was synonymous with ravioli for me. If this seems unusual to you, check out the parent company of Chef Boyardee, and discover just how much muscle lies at the ready underneath that smiling chef's visage.) Sifton's article hones its contemplation of ravioli to something like the the crux of a zen koan: "The best ravioli is made in stages and eaten leisurely." He also notes that this ravioli comes at a hefty price.

One can debate the merits of going to certain restaurants during restaurant week. If you went to certain restaurants on a normal day, would you spend more than 30 dollars? Ibiza is one of those restaurants where the answer will never be no. In this way Ibiza is the rarest of treats in New Haven, available only when one feels flush with cash and in need of some of the familiar warmth a cozy restaurant can provide. Ibiza can fabricate such intimacy with its sensitivity to the line between the formality one secretly desires from a place where you are going to spend your discretionary budget and the pleasantness of people who seem to want you to enjoy your time at the restaurant. This comes from the simple gestures of welcome at the door, or the pleasant chit-chat from the wait staff.

They also have excellent ravioli. I recommend the baby back ribs, which are cooked to the point of butter-knife tenderness. They are also glazed with a sauce that has slightly caramelized, giving texture to each bite. Ibiza also makes its own ice cream. They often have a honey and lavender ice cream, delivered on a spoon accompanying an apple and lavender tart. The flavor is delicate, with the lavender providing a twist to the flavor. Their Sangria is perhaps their only disappointing menu item, because it lacks the extra layer of surprise that much of their food provides.

-DT