If you love old-school Italian, Scopa is basically a house of worship—and we’re devout members of the congregation. We’ve been eating here forever, and let me tell you, Chef Antonia Lofaso doesn’t just honor Italian tradition, she makes it sing opera while twirling linguini.

The squash blossoms stuffed with ricotta? Like little pillows of heaven—get two orders or you’ll regret it all night. The rice ball with peas and meat is a glorious mashup of crunchy and soft, like if comfort food and texture had a baby. The stuffed mushrooms with mozzarella, breadcrumbs, and brown butter are so good they should come with a warning label.

The linguini with clams? Garlicky, rich, and so slurp-worthy you’ll forget your table manners. But the roasted chicken with cherry peppers and fregola stole the show—juicy, spicy, and just the right kind of messy. Tiramisu for dessert sealed the deal.

Oh, and brunch? Think coffee cake, biscuits, antipasti, steak and eggs, challah French toast… basically, the United Nations of carbs.

Scopa is our neighborhood spot, our happy place, and the reason we’ll never fit into skinny jeans again—and we wouldn’t have it any other way.