Mezetto

Mezetto, 161 E Houston St (@ Allen St), 212-933-4587, Mezetto.com

SHORT ORDER: DJ Eleganza spins, bartenders pour at this fun, noisy brunch spot on the Lower East Side.

PETER’S PICKS: trio of dips; warm kale salad; grilled cheese with tomato soup; liquor-fueled hot chocolate

PETER’S PANS: bland croquettes; watery lamb meatballs; more shrieking Jersey girls that seem to follow me wherever I go

I was most relieved when our waiter immediately informed my guy and I that he was a wee bit hung over. It was Sunday, after all, and we were at Mezetto for brunch, where a heavily tattooed DJ Eleganza spun an alarmingly loud soundtrack. Surely you’ve experienced an unfortunate one-night-stand when there was nothing to talk about the next morning? Problem solved at Mezetto! You don’t have to talk at all over the booming beats. Instead, just spend your time chowing down on the Mediterranean tapas that easily sop up any excess booze you ingested the night before. At an uneventful corner near the Second Avenue subway station, Mezetto still manages to be a great, gay stop-in spot.

We took our seats by a wide window and then I took to a cheeky margarita—I asked them to spare me the fiery Tanteo jalapeño tequila and just set me up with the house tequila instead. My fella opted for the bottomless mimosas at a rock-bottom price of $15. These fizzy, effervescent drinks were huge pours and he chose an orange-pomegranate combo that warranted a few more rounds, despite the Champagne that flooded them. A French Maid with gin and lavender was also available, as was a Pear Martini with pear vodka, elderflower liqueur and Champagne, but we refrained.

The trio of dips was delicious and proved to be just what we needed. Smoky eggplant caviar didn’t disappoint and we quite enjoyed our labane, a Greek yogurt with a drizzle of fruity olive oil, and the hummus decorated with chickpeas. We also warmed up to the warm kale salad, a special with walnuts and cranberries in a tahini vinaigrette that we felt had a more predominant flavor of Dijon mustard.

While ricotta croquettes in an oyster mushroom reduction were not terribly impressive, the balls of Israeli falafel featured a perky pickle salsa and a spicy, near tear-inducing harissa aioli served on puffy, steamed buns right out of Chinatown.

The rich, gooey, stringy grilled cheese sandwich on thick slices of white bread was gorgeous, served with mellow tomato soup flavored with insinuating cumin. We moved to Italy with the decent crispy pork pizzetta that featured caramelized, pickled onions and inviting pomegranate barbecue sauce. Lamb meatballs with ground pistachios, feta cheese and mint were not as exciting as we’d hoped they would be, served in a somewhat thin, watery sauce.

When it came to dessert, we first swooned over a loving cup of hot chocolate with Jameson Irish whiskey, Baileys and a “special house spice.” We felt like we’d just come off the slopes and cuddled up next to a cozy fireplace! The parfait that followed was outfitted with a frizzy floss of Halva hair, toffee, coffee sauce and pistachios. The Moroccan Sfinge Split was undeniably tempting, with chocolate fondue and banana gelato. The next consideration was that since it was only somewhere around 5pm, what to do? It felt like midnight!

Prices: Tapas: $4–$17; Alcohol: wine, beer, specialty cocktails