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Santina Review: Beachy Italian Resort Vibes Under Manhattan’s High Line

The Carbone crew’s new Italian-American joint goes full vacation mode
relates to Santina Review: Beachy Italian Resort Vibes Under Manhattan’s High Line
Photographer: Evan Sung/Bloomberg Business

The crudite platter at Santina looks like a headdress, custom-made for some hard-bodied Vegas showgirl (who loves radishes). It’s rare for raw vegetables to command so much attention, but this is a gorgeous, feathery, over-the-top structure of purple radicchio leaves, halved Persian cucumbers, dimpled cabbage, and other cool, crunchy bits and pieces standing tall over a glitter of crushed ice. It arrives, shaking to the tune of an Italian folk song, with three obscenely delicious dips, and everyone at my table is moonstruck.

Santina is a glass-encased restaurant tucked under the railway trestle of the High Line, and it’s one of the most vibrant, lively places to eat in New York right now. Though it bills itself as coastal Italian, it can feel more like a Mad Men-era, American-fueled fantasy of the Amalfi Coast. You know the kind, where everything is light and bright and soft around the edges, and everyone is good-looking and friendly and disarmingly earnest.