Pleasant? Casual? Lower East Side? Well which is it?

Falai Panetteria
79 Clinton St (Rivington St.)
212-777-8956

I know, I know—the Lower East Side is a pretty terrifying place, the air so thick with self-righteous irony and hipster ennui that every exhalation comes out as a bored sigh. But have no fear, for there remains another Lower East Side, a place shaded by trees rather than oversized aviators, a place where the alleys remain skinnier than the jeans.

I discovered recently on a walk through Lower Manhattan that the spread of hipsterfication has—at least as of now—essentially stopped at Ludlow St. The streets to the east of Ludlow remain happily characterful (and I don’t mean full of characters, which would be an apt description of Ludlow and Orchard streets.) Though Suffolk and Norfolk streets offer little in the way of entertainment, one block further you’ll find Clinton St.

Among the restaurants studding Clinton St. like culinary jewels in a tinpan alley crown, is the quaint Falai Panetteria, the bakery branch of the more formal Falai a block away. About the only thing I can say of Falai Panetteria is that it is unerringly pleasant, nothing more and nothing less, but that is no small praise. A couple of hours into my walk, I was hungry, tired, and needing a place to rest my feet. Falai Panetteria, with its bright white walls, blue chairs, and stacks of freshly baked bread, seemed like a perfect choice. I was immediately afraid upon entering that I had inadvertently found my way back to Orchard St. The staff and clientele were, I dare say, hipsters, but of a different breed. Present were the skinny jeans, American Apparel, and ironic pop music (was that “Living on a Prayer” I heard?), absent the smug condescension.

I walked up to the counter, ordered one of the day’s specials, a baby octopus salad with potatoes, mixed greens, and sun-dried tomatoes in pesto. A moment later the waitress placed a basket of thick, doughy, rosemary-olive bread in front of me (delicious), but there was no olive oil in sight (strange). Within ten minutes, my salad arrived. Like the bright, clean room and the service, the salad was quite nice, nothing special, but enjoyable. What Falai deemed pesto was more like olive oil with basil, but not bad for that, just mislabeled. The octopus was the strange part, mostly delicious and tender, occasionally rubbery and over-cooked. Alas.

Still, the salad was large and filling and only cost me $11. I didn’t get a chance to sample the desserts, but the ample offerings of tarts and pastries looked enticing indeed. I wouldn’t go out of my way to get back to Falai Panatteria, but if I ever find myself fearing for my life among the hollow gazes of the hipsters, I won’t hesitate to duck in for, if not an absolutely safe haven, then at least a pleasant one.