You know that feeling in the pit of your stomach when it rains for several days in a row, your windshield wipers put you to sleep, and moss starts to overwhelm the marrow inside your bones? Of course you do. It’s an actual medical condition called Marchsuxicitis, and it runs rampant in these parts (other symptoms include: feelings of empathy towards crows, bewilderment at bright lights, listening to The Smiths, and loitering around tanning salons for the smell). Anyway, I found a cure this week. Take a friend over to La Buca, the tiny Italian restaurant deep in the West Side, and split a couple of pastas after munching on bread sticks and sipping a Negroni. You’ll feel right as…er…rain. We recommend the Vongole (top) and the Carbonara (bottom right). We were walk-ins before the dinner rush, but it’s wiser to make a reservation.

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