That’s Amore…or Amarena!

Bar

Entrance

Belly Rating
 Mood: Cozy, romantic, quietly chic
 Best for: Girlfriend catch-ups, date night, pre-night-out drinks
 Noise level: Low hum
 Best seat: Upstairs dining room
 Order again: Bucatini di Polpo
 Staff: Warm and attentive
 Score: 9.3/10
 Sunday takeaway: Sometimes the right dinner at the right time is all you need to feel grounded again.

On a lovely February night, my friend and I needed something emotionally grounding. We’d both made a quiet promise this year to be more intentional about dining out. To stop treating dinner like a logistical task and start treating it like an experience. But somehow, our planning calendars hadn’t gotten the memo. So there we were on a Friday night, two hours before 6pm and fifteen minutes before Pilates, scrambling for plans. Ramen at a familiar neighborhood spot was our first idea. A few Grubhub reviews later, we realized our local princess had quietly lost her crown. From there, we considered pizza, something I could whip up at home (usually a solid option, but 8pm Pilates Bella is not making conceptual beef ramen), or letting the Amex and Resy algorithm choose our destiny. One minute before leaving for class, we made a reservation at Amarena on 82nd Street.

By the time I caught the M15, snow was falling softly. I hadn’t checked the weather, so now I was counting on dinner to cure three things at once: our emotional slump, my frostbitten fingers, and my frustration with the NYC MTA for being thirty minutes late. Our reservation was for 9:30pm. I arrived closer to 9:45 thanks to the bus delays. I slipped out my phone to capture a quick clip, then checked in with the hostess, who sent me upstairs where my friend was already seated.

Walking past the tiled bar floors, I nearly made my entrance a spectacle thanks to wet boots. A small slip, a quick recovery. Upstairs, I noticed the waiter was already chatting with my friend about the menu. That mattered. Some restaurants wait until everyone arrives before they offer warmth. Here, connection came first. It was surprisingly calm for a Friday night at nearly ten.

“Do you have a coat rack?” I asked.
 “Of course.”

Two minutes later he returned with tag number 95. Coat checked. We were officially settled.

I pulled up my sleeves and opened the menu. I already knew the spicy vodka pasta was the crowd favorite. TikTok had made that clear. Often compared to that iconic red-sauce benchmark everyone loves to reference. Tempting. But I wanted protein, and Mr. Vodka wasn’t offering that. So I chose the Bucatini di Polpo, seduced by the idea of octopus folded into tomato sauce. My friend went with the vodka pasta.

Before anything else arrived, we were greeted with complimentary bread: tomato and olive focaccia alongside crispy bread with olive oil. Five out of five. I believe deeply in the power of free bread. Especially when it’s warm, flavorful, and arrives exactly when you need it.

Then came the mains.

I loved my dish. Truly loved it. Tender octopus, perfectly cooked pasta, and a sauce that leaned sweet in the most comforting way. Rich without being heavy. Elevated, but familiar. I tasted my friend’s vodka pasta too. Also delicious. But we both agreed: my choice was the better meal.

The ambiance sealed it.

Italian music played softly through the townhouse. The staff was kind and attentive. Somewhere between bites, we found ourselves dancing in our seats and laughing like girls who forgot their problems at the door. We stayed until closing, leaving around 10:30pm, the last ones upstairs after a couple on a date and two British girlfriends catching up. Honestly, it felt like a parallel version of us. Same energy. Different accents.

I loved that the restaurant lives inside a townhouse. I loved loved loved the atmosphere. Intimate without trying too hard. Perfect for a girlfriend catch-up. Perfect for a date. Perfect for drinks before heading downstairs. I rated it a 9.3 out of 10 on belly.

And walking back into the cold, I couldn’t help but wonder how often we underestimate the power of a good meal, shared with the right person, on the right night. Because sometimes it isn’t the grand plans that steady us. Sometimes it’s pasta. Sometimes it’s laughter. Sometimes it’s finding warmth on a snowy street when you didn’t even realize you were searching for it.

Spicy Vodka

A carbone competitor….allegedly

Bucatini di Polpo

Sweet tomato sauce with delicious octopus via spaghetti

Bread

not the main bread but its co-star