The new space is beautiful and sun-soaked. Luckily the bar is nice and long, so we were able to spend our 45-minute wait in comfort.
Franny's stockpile of wood doubles as a central element of the new restaurant's fresh, simple décor.
This bustling open kitchen is literally three times larger than the one in the original Franny's. Which is a good thing, since it's feeding about three times the number of diners, too.
There's two of them! And they're pretty.
I just wanted some bruschetta! Instead, I got a lone slice of garlicky, olive oil-soaked bread. Where's the rest of this guy?
Marinated Olives ($6)
Nothing exciting here, just your average $6 plate of a dozen (give or take) olives.
Pork Cheek and Beef Tongue Terrine
This was the best of the bunch, but that's still not saying much...for $12, I expect more than two slices of bread and a thin sheet of fatty, unseasoned meat purée.
An overhead photo of our three gorgeous pies: sausage, clams, and ramps.
Ramp Pie ($18)
We lucked out and snagged a Ramp Pizza ($18). That said, the menu description—fava leaves, ramps, calabrian chilies, and pecorino sardo—wasn't entirely accurate. I'm not sure whether the pizza gods were smiling upon us or somebody made a beautiful, beautiful mistake, but when the pie emerged topped with a glistening poached egg, I shot straight up to cloud nine, where I remained happily perched for the rest of our meal.
Yeah, I know. It looks awesome.
As anticipated, the crust was pretty stellar, with great char and just enough salt.
Just look at that crumb. Beautiful, airy, and perfectly tender.
Sausage Pie ($17)
Having never ordered Franny's sausage pizza before, I was in for another surprise with pie number two. Sweet, tart tomatoes, generous dollops of milky buffalo mozzarella, and...pepperoni?
I'm a tough customer when it comes to sausage. I expect juicy, tender, flavorful meat scattered across my pie. Not thin, cured slices curling at the edges. That said, those thin slices tasted pretty damn good. Once I accepted that my fantasy sausage scenario was off the table, I squared my shoulders, grabbed a second slice, and grudgingly admitted my delight.
Clam Pie ($18)
Fresh, briny clams, a bright hit of parsley, and some hot chilies are apparently all it takes to send me into throes of ecstasy. I'd say more, but really you should just get on the train (or plane) and go eat it.