What if we kissed at the Feast of San Gennaro 🇮🇹

4 things to get at the feast of all feasts.

The Feast of San Gennaro, San Gennaro feast, San Gennaro, San Gen — call it what you want — should be the worst time of the year. It’s loud and smoky from mostly mediocre food and packed with people and every morning there are oily napkins and gelato cups and red peppers smashed into the sidewalk. It’s the reason the map looks like this for 11 days:

But against all odds, some combination of downtown and Italian charm makes these the most fun, ridiculous 11 days. Sure, it can get painfully crowded — you will eat a sausage and pepper sandwich while being quite literally sandwiched between hundreds of people — but don’t try to avoid this by showing up during the day. It’s vital that you arrive once the sun has set and the crispy fall air takes over, when the red, green and white lights are twinkling in the dark blue sky.

If you make it there before it ends on Sunday, remember that the closer to Canal you are, the better. Above Prince Street is a wash, it’s mostly games and some non-Italian food. Other than that, you should trust your instincts. NYC legend Amethyst Valentino (who runs karaoke at Montero’s) followed hers to pasta at Rubirosa after the festival. Like I said, legend. If your instincts suck, I’ll help you: Nutella cronut? No! Pre-filled cannoli? Sure. Sugared, freshly fried zeppole? Absolutely. If you need more direction or inspiration, these are a few more things that definitely won’t disappoint you.

Uh… you’re not!

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1. Fried _____

You’re deranged if you go home without some form of fried dough. I’m partial to a bag of hot, plush zeppole or creamy fried Oreos, but the other night I bought a single (which I very much appreciated the option to do) deep fried rainbow cookie that transformed into an rich, almond custard in the fryer. Funnel cakes are fun too, and a fried Snickers isn’t very Italian but it is delicious. If you get a fried Twinkie, I do not want to know about it. You don’t need to be picky about where you get any of these things.

Skip the arancini and fried ravioli — they’re rarely as crispy or as hot as you want them to be. While it’s not a fried item, I’d also warn you to pass on any pasta, because walking through this crowd with a plate of it could end in disaster, but my sister would say the slightly overcooked (sad) and over-sauced (a plus) penne alla vodka is the reason she braves the crowd at all.

2. Clams

My favorite thing to do at the feast is slide into an open space at Umbertos Clam House’s wooden bar. It’s a glorious experience, an open kitchen right there on Mulberry Street. I like to stand on the sidewalk and order clams two ways: on the half shell to throw back while I watch my tray of garlic and breadcrumb-showered clams sizzle under the broiler. Other things to know: this is the restaurant where Joe Gallo got whacked and the fried calamari is pretty good, too.

Baked clams, the Umberto's bar.

3. A sandwich

Sausage and peppers is always good, braciole with super sautéed peppers and onions is better. For those who didn’t eat it at their grandmas house every Sunday, braciole is a thin piece of (sometimes beef but sometimes) pork wrapped around breadcrumbs and parmesan and parsley like a Swiss roll. The Johnny Fasullo’s stand makes my favorite versions of both sandwiches, I love that they hand them to you with a blistered pepper on top. The best sandwich to eat at the feast, though, is the one from the “MOZZARELLA STEAK SANDWICH ON GARLIC BREAD” stand. No name, no handle, just layers of steak and molten mozzarella on a buttered garlic hero, in a tightly wrapped foil shell that lets everything melt into each other like an Italian cheesesteak.

Nameless steak sandwich stand, sausage and peppers.

5. Something to take home

The next time you walk through Little Italy, when it’s no longer an 11-block street fair, it will be depressing. That’s why I like to buy something that reminds me of it to keep around until next year’s feast. I got a bag of crunchy, honey-kissed almond torrone from Vinny’s the other night, and have been eating little hunks of it before I go to sleep. Sometimes I sleep in my San Gennaro t-shirt — I own both of the ones above because they pertain to me.

The guys at Mulberry Street Cigars will roll you a cigar to smoke right there on the sidewalk or to bring home for a special occasion.

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NEXT WEEK

I’ll be in LA next week. If you guys have eaten anywhere or anything wonderful there, please tell me about it. And if you have any intel on the food scene in… Oklahoma City… let a girl know.

Talk to you next week!

🥞🍳🥓🧇