There’s something delightfully anachronistic about Torrisi Italian Specialties on Mulberry Street. The tiny new 16-seat cafe, with antique wooden furniture and cured meats hanging in the window and antipasti displayed in small bowls on the counter, looks like a place that would’ve existed in Nolita some years back when I first moved to the neighborhood. The area was still teetering on the brink of Little Italy-ness, and only slowly starting to get mowed down by precious little shoe shops and stores selling pricey and useless odds and ends. Mind you, I like some of those shops—and was sad when a few, like Jane Mayle’s gorgeous boutique, closed last year. But point is, t’aint Little Italy here no more. This comes as news to no one.
So it’s lovely to come across a Little Italy flashback on Mulberry, and so far I’m thrilled to have Torrisi around. I’ve already been in for sandwiches (various combos of mortadella, prosciutto, soppressata, fresh mozz, and  Lioni’s ricotta on Parisi Bakery seeded rolls) and antipasti like the intriguingly named “cauliflower with Progresso” (roasted cauliflower, breadcrumbs, rosemary). Never ate as much cauliflower as I have this winter; am lately enamored of it. Chef-owners Richard Torrisi and Mario Carbone, vets of A Voce and Del Posto, are onto an original hook here: The “Italian” ingredients are all American-made, hence that Progresso name-check. Torrisi opens for dinner this week, so I’ll be back for that.
In the meantime: Points for the vintage Billy Joel poster on the wall. Before he was marrying and divorcing models and tiny TV chefs and driving his cars into… (wait, am I about to say something libelous here?). Anyway, before the onslaught of douchiness, the man was writing some pretty tuneful, infectious (cheesy, yes, but deliciously cheesy) pop songs. His face in the room somehow warms it, gives it splash of old-New York history. Strange, but why fight it.