Where We’re Eating: Lincoln Ristorante

I have a favorite way to spend the last precious hours of a weekend: seated with my little clan at Lincoln Ristorante, reveling in the seasonal Sunday Family Supper. In cold weather, as my partner and kid and I gazed out onto the twinkling lights of Manhattan's glamorous Lincoln Center, we devoured a ragù Napoletano of astounding depth. A basso profundo quartet of pork spare ribs, pork sausage, beef and veal meatballs, and beef shortribs lent it as much gravitas as a Beethoven composition that might have been played by an ensemble in the hall across the courtyard. In warm weather, we grab a seat outdoors and dig into fried chicken that's an astounding study in contrasts, the world's snappiest crust yielding to chicken of incomparable moistness. To aid and abet that luxurious picnic food? A lip-smacking, herb-laced, leguminous party of a salad: verdant fava and romano beans, earth-hued garbanzos, purple cranberry beans, and green and yellow wax beans, all brightening our meal in a kaleidoscopic consort. With a supper so satisfying, we don't even mind that Monday morning's commute is right around the corner.