A big slice of Eataly opens in Manhattan

I was half dreading Eataly, the enormous Italian food emporium that opened last Tuesday in Manhattan's Flatiron district. A joint venture between the original Eataly in Turin, Italy, and B&B Hospitality (the restaurant group run by Mario Batali and Joe and Lidia Bastianich), it sounded ominously close to a culinary Epcot, a simulacrum of the Italian food-shopping experience.

All my doubts vanished within a few feet of the threshold, where I beheld a range of Italian vegetables rarely seen on these shores: Treviso radicchio and the rarer Castelfranco variety, baby artichokes in both green and red, fresh romano and fava beans, baby fennel with the roots still attached. And presiding over everything, "vegetable butcher" Jennifer Rubell, who was calmly trimming artichokes and dropping them into clear bins of water in which bobbed halved lemons.

From the narrow vegetable department, the store widens into a vast warren of distinct departments devoted to every facet of Italian cuisine. Occupying the ground floor of what used to be the old "Toy Building," there's no place in the 42,500-square-foot store where you can see everything. Apparently, the layout and design are almost identical to that of the original location in Turin, established in 2007.

Also direct from Italy were many of the store's employees, not only helpful and charming clerks, but Marco Michelis (son of Eataly Torino's pasta maker) in charge of fresh pasta, and Luca Montersino, pastry chef, who has charge of both pastry and the excellent gelato made fresh every day (try the pistachio).

Eataly is not a place for bargains, but prices here are in line with what you'd pay at an Italian specialty store or Whole Foods. And the selection is simply unparalleled, better than anything I've seen in this country.

To wit:

Aisles and aisles of pasta, from Barilla (not the usual American-manufactured Barilla, but the stuff made in Italy) to the most rarefied artisanal brands. Nearby, fresh pasta is being made all day. Fettuccine, tagliarini, sheets of lasagna are all $6.80 a pound; filled pastas, such as ravioli del plin, the specialty of Turin, are upward of $10.

Next to the Arborio rice I found Apollo, a variety I'd never heard of (subsequently learning that it is an aromatic variety cultivated in Italy); a profusion of gorgeously packaged honeys and preserves; scores of olive oils, shelved by regions; a sparkling fish counter; a full-service butcher specializing in Italian cuts (osso buco) and breeds (Piedmontese beef); chocolates by Venchi, the venerable (established in 1878) Turin confectioner; coffee bars by Lavazza and also Vergnano, another Turin stalwart (1882), from whom I purchased a superb espresso.

The bread is as good as any I've had in New York. Baked on the premises (in a wood-fired oven), it's made with flour from an Italian wheat variety grown upstate by Wild Hive Farm. The starters and preferments were brought directly from the Turin store by head baker Paul Mack.

Eating options abound. Situated between the cheese and salumi counters, there's a stand-and-dine area for enjoying cheese and salumi, along with a glass of wine. Around the corner from the vegetable department is a vegetarian eatery, Le Verdure. Around the corner from the fish counter is a casual fish restaurant, Il Pesce, run by Dave Pasternack, chef and, with Batali and Bastianich, co-owner of the Theater District fish temple Esca. Behind the butcher counter is Il Manzo, a white-

tablecloth restaurant specializing in meat.

An independent (i.e., not Batali) pizzeria, Rossopomodoro, serves pizza and pasta. We had an early lunch there: fresh misticanza salad with bitter greens and pickled vegetables, excellent house-made ravioli and a pizza that, in the true Neapolitan style, was a bit wet for my taste.

Between the shopping and the dining, you could happily spend half a day here, perhaps bracketing your time with two meals. The only downsides I foresee are the crowds (already formidable) and parking. Eataly is at 200 Fifth Ave., Manhattan

646-398-5100, www.eataly.com. Hours: 10 a.m. to 11 p.m. seven days a week.