People say unbridled sinning'll land you penniless in the gutter, but then how did lust pay for the world's most famous mansion, or slothful sitting pay for Ghandi's kids to go to college? For a livelihood founded on gluttony, hit Popi Classic Italian
An intimate, 80-seat trattoria cheaply but warmly decorated with blow-up prints of food & wine, earth-toned seats, and a twig-sprouting wooden divide to segregate the bar, Popi's is helmed by a CT native who spent every youthful weekend eating two dozen clams casino at his favorite resto, who returned the favor by handing him their family recipe. All food (bread, pasta, and sauce included) is homemade daily, from antipasto like jumbo Prosciutto-Wrapped Shrimp ("Who needs blankets, when there's Italian ham around?") to hand-tossed, stone-baked, extra-charred New Haven-style "apizza" like the Carne (grilled & sliced steak, sausage, meatballs, mozz) and the White Spinach (spin leaves, sausage, shrooms, fresh garlic, blk olives); or, create your own -- they say "If it's in our kitchen, we'll put it on your pie", so reach for the stars and ask them to top yours with lasagna. Pastas run from beef-stuffed Cannelloni, to Chicken Saltimbocca (rolled w/ prosciutto, spinach, & cheese), to a DIY option with 4 pastas (linguini, penne, angel hair, spaghetti), sauces (marinara, mushroom, bianca, alio olio), and $4 "mates" -- meatball, sausage, chicken, or grilled veg, so finding a jovial Aussie pub-dweller's on you.
Beer is bottled (Moretti, Newcastle, Peroni), while wine (Paul Hobbs Argentinian Merlot, Candoni Pinot Grigio...) is carefully chosen by the owner's daughter, and is of such fine quality, if anyone else attempts to pour a glass you'll be totally lit up with greed.