Bao Noodles, 391 2nd Ave., Manhattan

I am becoming a Seamless Web regular. I love picking the food from the online menus, and then it shows up at my door, pure and simple. Many of the online reviews at Seamless Web complain about the delivery times but I've gotten my food within the specified, perfectly reasonable window each of three times now.

Today's order came from Bao Noodles in Gramercy. The grilled pork sandwich was great: a perfect combination of veggies, tasty meat, and spicy mayo, on good bread. And $4.95 is a nice price for a hearty sandwich. I ordered the sticky rice with chicken just out of curiosity. It was, indeed, very sticky, and I liked that, but the flavor was bland. It was better with a touch of the pepper sauce on it. The grilled chicken vermicelli was not so good. The chicken quality was pretty poor and none of the other elements were terribly compelling. We're not sure how hot it was supposed to be, but it didn't arrive hot. The shrimp summer rolls were heavy on the lettuce, but otherwise good.

Mary's Fish Camp, 64 Charles St., Manhattan

Pat's coworker Jen and her husband Brian chose Mary's Fish Camp, in the West Village, as last night's dinner destination. We arrived early enough (6:45) to get a table right away; by the time we left, the tiny restaurant had enough people waiting to be seated that I literally could barely make it past them out the door. Granted, this was only about 10 people. There's just not that much space! It's very pleasant, though, and the waitstaff was very friendly. Bonus points for the 80s on the sountrack: "Rock Lobster," "What's On Your Mind (Pure Energy)."

Brian ordered a platter of oysters and I had two of them, just enough to get that exhilerating feeling of connection to the watery beginnings of time that oysters always give me. Jen's appetizer, Guatemalan shrimp, was not quite as hoped - with the shells on, they required a lot of work. Jen and I both had the lobster roll as an entree. The chunks of lobster were fat and delicous, but I came away still feeling Luke's Lobster has perfected the genre, and at half Mary's price, too. The grilled vegetables we ordered on the side were satisfying, and Pat's trout with pancetta and winter vegetables was very good. Our bread pudding for dessert, with rum sauce and whipped cream, was scrumptious.

Jen and Brian are a lot of fun and it's great to feel like we're getting to know fun people in New York.

2nd Yo Sushi, 351 2nd Ave., Manhattan

I have been waiting patiently for spring. Okay, that's a lie. I don't wait patiently for anything, especially when I've been staticky and itchy since November, but in any case I feel utterly betrayed by the snow and sleet today. Where in the sam hell is spring?

I refused to go outside for lunch so I took my second stab at Seamless Web, and chose 2nd Yo Sushi, in Gramercy, based on high viewer ratings. It was okay. I wasn't thrilled with the pureed texture of the tuna in my spicy tuna roll, but my eel and avocado roll was better, pleasantly flavorful. The delivery was very prompt, 30 minutes after I placed my order. The delivery guy was all wet. I was nice and dry.

I forgot to note a funny incident yesterday. I get asked directions everywhere I go in New York. I apparently look like someone who has been here more than 3 weeks. Rarely can I be of assistance, but I was able to confirm for a guy yesterday that he was on the right side of the subway platform, and as he thanked me and walked away, he called out, "you look cool!" This was clearly a reference to the citified Dick Tracy hat I've been sporting. Strangers never told me I looked cool before I bought my fantastic hat. It made my day.

Earthen Oven, 53 W. 72nd St., Manhattan

Last night I got to meet Pat's lovely friends Ann and Eric, and their son Julian. We went to their house and got Indian delivered from Earthen Oven, in the Upper West Side. They said everything they order from there is good, and I agree. We had chicken tikka masala, palak paneer, various naans, and other miscellaneous goodies. Good food, good company. We eagerly await the day when they introduce us, as promised, to a cookie that will change our lives, plus ice cream that will blow our minds.

Coco Roco, 392 5th Ave., Brooklyn

Pat and I stumbled onto something fantastic to do this weekend: a recreation of the Minnesota State Fair at a hall in Brooklyn! http://mncultureclub.com/statefairaffair

I really thought this would be better in concept than in reality, but I was wrong in the most wonderful way. People were even lined up to get in.

We arrived just in time to see Minnesota Sen. Al Franken take the stage to judge a "food on a stick" contest, and it was hilarious. The most creative (but according to Sen. Franken, bad-tasting) entry was "Boundary Waters on a stick," a gelatinous blue and green blob that was actually quite evocative. Pat and I spotted a sample of that on the stage after the judging was over, with one bite taken out of it, and we believe it was the very sample that Sen. Franken tasted. We did not take it home as a souvenir.

The mob to taste the various foods on a stick was daunting but I secured sticks for me and Pat with balls of cheese curds and wild rice shaped like snowmen, and it was not only tasty, but brilliantly clever. What a great execution. It would be perfect for the actual Fair.

Then we witnessed the sculpting of sticks of butter (and, in some cases, lard, which was not authentic but apparently the organizers were challenged to find blocks of butter) into Minnesota-inspired shapes: a leaping fish, a tractor, the collapsed Metrodome, and Bob Dylan, for example. It was all great fun. Clearly I need to look into more events organized by the Minnesota Culture Club.

Afterward we walked into Park Slope, which I had visited without Pat when I first got to New York, so very long ago. Ha. We picked Coco Roco for dinner just on a whim, and were very happy with the food. As soon as we sat down we got a dish of delectable fried plantain chips with dipping sauces, and odd scrumptious dried corn kernels. Then he had a chicken sandwich and I had a pork sandwich. YUM. I am sure I don't need to tell you I am already salivating at the thought of the leftovers I will enjoy for lunch tomorrow.

Kathleen & Paul's, Stockton Rd., Union, NJ

It may not be open all night like some of the places in Manhattan. It may be too undiscovered for a Zagat rating. No one who works in the kitchen there has ever made an appearance on the Food Network. But when the chefs of Stockton Road prepare a meal, you do not want to miss it.

Kathleen, Paul and their mothers treated their extended families to a St. Patrick's Day party last night, starring corned beef and cabbage, carrots and potatoes, turnips and parsnips, soda bread, key lime pie, and rice pudding. It was all wonderful and plentiful. We enjoyed the warm family-style atmosphere, the festive shamrock decor, and efficient all-you-can eat self-serve buffet, and you really couldn't beat the price.

I can't believe this place isn't in the NFT Guide.

Nomado 33, 165 E 33rd St., Manhattan

I don't think I have ever under-ordered sushi. I look at the options and several of them sound good and I never quite realize how much food I'm ordering. At Nomado 33 in Murray Hill, we ordered a banana tempura roll, a rainbow roll, a California roll, and a rock 'n' roll (hee hee) and we left there stuffed to the gills. It was all good, though. I think the rock 'n' roll was the best. We washed it down with sake.

Last night I did the unthinkable: I COOKED DINNER AT HOME. I know! It is MADNESS!! It was not because I was sick of eating out (although Pat was a little sick of eating out); it's just that there are all these alluring specialty food stores and I wanted to take advantage. The shopping wasn't as much fun as I envisioned, though. Di Palo's, in Little Italy, was kind of chaotic, and I deplore chaos, plus there were only a few things for a meal I could get there, so I had to hunt down a proper grocery store afterward. And since I didn't even have basic spices or things like sugar and olive oil, there was a certain amount of pantry-stocking that added up monetarily, to the point where it might have been cheaper to eat out once again.

The results were good, though. We had a mouthwatering Italian staple, the insalata caprese (LOVE that fresh mozzarella), and spaghetti with a tomato clam sauce. I thought it was decent but Pat seemed exceptionally happy with it, which made me feel good. There was a ton of leftover sauce so I stuck it in the freezer.

PJ Clarke's Sidecar, 915 3rd Ave., Manhattan

Our destination two nights ago was PJ Clarke's on the lower edge of the Upper East Side, but it was packed with people and the noise was overwhelming. We walked out and happened to notice another door, marked "Sidecar," on the side of the building. We peeked up the staircase at a closed door and were just turning around, assuming we were at a dead end, when some other customers came in and told us they'd been referred up there by the main restaurant. So up we went.

It was a cozy brick space and the menu is more expensive and refined than in the pub below (putting the "up" in upscale, I guess!). The steak and scallops ordered by the people at the next table looked just as delicious as our deluxe burgers, complete with sides of "smothering onions" and chili. The fries were thin and perfect. We ordered a plate of asparagus to assuage our guilt about gorging ourselves on rich food night after night, then we gorged ourselves on rich food plus asparagus. I felt overly full until I fell asleep that night, but it had been darned good. Pat was particularly smitten with the whole experience.

PJ Clarke's is a chain but did not feel like a chain, and apparently this is the original location. There's even one in Washington, though I haven't been there. Pat said it is the bar to which the "Mad Men" are always referring.

Yesterday I spent the day in Washington. It was sort of a pathetic relief to go to Chop't for a salad for lunch.

Le Veau D'Or, 129 E. 60th St., Manhattan

People who reviewed Le Veau D'Or online either loved this place or hated it. Some were captivated by the time-warped quality of the restaurant; others repulsed. Some found the waitstaff charming; others found them haughty. Some gushed about how great the food was; some gushed about how awful it was.

It is on the lower edge of the Upper East Side.

Pat and I saw the good and the bad of the place. It is definitely old school: when we arrived, the only other patrons were suit-wearing old men and pearl-adorned old women. One woman's hairstyle screamed Margaret Thatcher. Possibly those customers have been visiting the restaurant for decades. Eventually, a theatrical man in a green turtleneck arrived and regaled one of the restaurant employees, clearly a friend, with tales involving Richard Gere and Jerry Stiller.

Our food was a mixed bag. You get an appetizer, entree and dessert for one price (price depends on the entree). Pat's salad was sort of pathetic, but my cream of asparagus soup had a nice taste and consistency, although it was a little too salty. My roast duck with cherry sauce over wild rice was a little overcooked, but at the same time very tasty. Pat's seafood in lobster sauce over white rice was somewhat disappointing - he liked the sauce but the shrimp were dry. Pat's dessert (flan?) was good, mine ("floating island," a merengue in a creamy, caramely sauce) was delicous.

We found our ancient waiter amusing. He talked us into a bottle of wine after downplaying whatever wine was available by the glass (not on the menu) and insisting we could get a nice bottle for almost the same price, and he was right, I think. I enjoyed the French-English mix used by everyone who worked there and I threw in a "merci" or two as we left.

I've been seeing a lot of the Upper East Side recently. After seeing how close the 6 train is to Central Park when we visited the Neue Galerie on Saturday, I decided to go for a run there yesterday afternoon, since the 6 is also right around the corner from where we're staying. I got off the train and started running in what I thought was the direction of the park, and went way too far before I realized I was going in entirely the wrong direction. So by the time I turned around and reached the park I'd already been running quite a while and didn't get very deep into it. It was a good idea with poor execution.

Patsy's Pizza, 509 3rd Ave., Manhattan

Pat was aggrieved last night that he had spent 2 weeks in New York without any really excellent pizza, so he picked one up from Patsy's Pizza in Murray Hill. Just tomato sauce, mozzarella, and basil. We found it to be somehow dry, and could only imagine that a little more oil (in the crust? in the toppings?) would have been beneficial.

New Kam Man, 200 Canal St., Manhattan

We went for Dim Sum at New Kam Man in Chinatown. We waited about 20 minutes for our number to be called and then journeyed up a long escalator to a massive banquet room filled with maybe 200 tables, and were seated with 2 elderly Chinese ladies with whom we interacted not at all. Cerin, the expert, selected for us steamed dumplings (peanut and pork being the best), fried calamari (not so good with their oddly buttery flavor), funky white things with chicken inside, and delicious sesame-coated balls of goodness.

For dessert we went to Rice to Riches, 37 Spring Street in Nolita. Pat and I had been there before, when we stumbled upon it during a post-Thanksgiving pizza excursion. It is a slick, cheeky rice pudding bar, with irreverent "grains" (ha ha ha) of wisdom on rice-shaped signs everywhere and maybe 15 flavors of thick rice pudding, plus toppings ("Jesus droppings"). Pat and I shared a 2-serving bowl with caramel and panna cotta flavors; Cerin had chocolate hazelnut. Mouthwatering.

Then we went to a hat shop, The Village Scandal, and Cerin and I each bought one. Mine is a yellow fedora that gives me a Dick Tracy air and makes me feel like a hip New Yorker.

Before heading out of town, Cerin picked up some items to go at Ennju, her favorite Japanese restaurant, at 20 E 17th St.

Cafe Sabarsky, 1048 5th Ave., Manhattan

Tia, Cerin, Pat and I walked a whopping 73 blocks (the short blocks, but still) up 5th Ave. from brunch at Danal to the Neue Galerie in the Upper East Side. It was a dreamily springy day. Taking the subway would have been wrong.

The gallery is small but they have a lot of Klimt stuff, and some cool furnishings from early 1900s Vienna. But the real purpose of the trip was a visit to Cafe Sabarsky, a dead ringer for a Viennese coffee house that had long been on Cerin's must-see list. I just had dessert but Tia had a smoked trout wrap thing, which she found good in an interesting sort of way; Cerin had a goulash that she liked so much she left almost no trace of it in her bowl; and Pat had a preztel and weisswurst, simple and well-executed. Having spent 9 months in Austria many years ago, I was sent down memory lane by drink options like gespritzt and Stiegl. All our desserts were delicious. I had a chocolate cake with marzipan and orange accents.

Danal, 59 5th Ave., Manhattan

Our fun friend, lead guitarist, and self-proclaimed nerd Cerin came to visit for the weekend, and lent us a couple of her friends, since we are running short in New York. We had brunch at Danal, in the Washington Square neighborhood, with Esme and Tia. Danal was Esme's choice and it was an excellent one. I had a deeply enjoyable omelet with bacon, onions, and cheese, and sides (which came with it automatically) of roasted potatoes and sauteed apples and walnuts. Pat (and Cerin) had the croissant French toast that was really phenomenal.

The decor was French country and the staff was wonderfully hospitable; a man (perhaps the owner?) seated four of us before our fifth had arrived, saying he'd be happy to pull up an extra chair when she came. I was further endeared to him later when I saw him behind the bar with his arm comfortably around a woman, both of them grinning. They made it feel like a happy place. Esme told us there always seem to be plenty of tables available, which is surprising given how great the food was.

Eataly, 200 5th Ave., Manhattan

Eataly is Mario Batalli's ginormous store/restaurants, in the Flatiron neighborhood. It is a feast for the eyes....if not for the stomach!

We were disappointed with our meal in the fish restaurant. I had a cod filet; Pat had "fritto misto alla Ligure," which was a pile of fried mixed seafood. Both were soberingly bland. Pat noted that Mario's thing is simply prepared food, but for the love of Pete, would some seasoning or a nice sauce be such a terrible thing? There was a nice cipollini onion soaked in vinegar with my cod, and that little bite was far more delectable than the fish, or the bland lentils on which it rested. The fritto misto just tasted fried. I can't remember being so unenthusiastic about something fried.

The store part of the complex was pretty cool. I wanted to buy the cheeses, pastas, produce.

36th Street Royal Thai Cuisine, 318 W 36th St., Manhattan

It rained buckets last night, providing the perfect opportunity to try http://www.seamlessweb.com/. They list all the restaurants that will deliver to you at any given moment. Our choices were a whopping 417 places! New York, I'm not sure how I lived without you for so long.

We selected the Thai restaurant rated highest by customers, 36th Street Royal Thai Cuisine in Murray Hill. My green curry with shrimp was tasty but just plain too hot. I kept having to drown my burning tongue in ice water every couple of bites. Pat's panang curry with chicken, which I enjoyed as leftovers at lunch today, could actually have used more heat or, really, a little more flavor, but it was good too. I also got the Tom Yung Koong soup and it was, in the parlance of Goldilocks, just right.

I went out at lunchtime to hunt down rice to supplement Pat's leftovers, and noticed a cupcake truck on the corner of 34th and Park Ave. We had cupcake trucks in Washington so I'm not all wide-eyed about this, but I will say that since coming to New York, I have viewed it as my duty to try things, especially gastronomical things, so there was no resisting the siren call of the Cupcake Crew (http://www.cupcakecrewnyc.com/). I chose the regular-sized mint chocolate chip cupcake (they also offer minis, to which I say hell no) out of a selection of five or six flavors. It was moist and amply-frostinged and delightful, and just the right amount. I like an oversized cupcake, but there's less guilt associated with a normal-sized one like today's beauty.

Pat and I have sprung for the apartment in the Financial District. We are excited. We signed a lease today. Now we just need to be creative enough to decorate the fantastically imposing space appropriately.

David's Bagels, 331 1st Ave., Manhattan

NFT described David's Bagels, in Gramercy, as having the "hands-down best NYC bagel." I couldn't resist.

The challenge is that as with pizza, I am not a bagel snob. I'm not a fan of particularly hard or soft bagels, but in that middle range, a bagel is unlikely to disappoint me. I enjoyed my sesame seed bagel with lox spread from David's, but probably I would have enjoyed my order equally well from a place too unnoteworthy for NFT.

It was pleasingly chewy. Plenty big, maybe even a touch too big. I was certainly full when I finished. The spread was delicious and applied in the appropriate quantities, but a couple stringy bits got caught in my teeth. Perhaps that is inevitable with a lox spread. What do I know? I'm no bagel snob.

After that I went back to the Financial District for another look at the potential new home (still fabulous, 19 hours later!), but also poked around Robert F. Wagner Park a bit, looking at its running potential. Seems like you could run all the way from Battery Park through RFW Park (why must people give parks such long names?) into Hudson River Park, and go for miles. Anyway it was quite lovely at Robert F. Wagner Park, and there were very people around, but to be fair, it was quite a rainy day.

Corner Shop Cafe, 643 Broadway, Manhattan

Our broker Greg showed Pat and I more apartments yesterday, and we were dazzled by two of them.

The first was in Brooklyn Heights, on Willow Place. It is the English basement of a house renovated by an architect after it was vacant and fallen to ruins for 40 years. It has a cool two-pronged layout, with a large living/dining/kitchen area going back to two small bedrooms, each of which has a door onto a tiny yet appealing patio. The apartment has the original (operational) fireplace, and while the kitchen is small, it is very modern and slick. There is a washer and dryer.

The second was totally different, in the Financial District. It is the corner unit on the second floor of a 235-unit, 23-floor building at Broadway and Reston. It has unbelievable ceilings, with molded beams way, way up. "High ceilings" is an understatement. There are accompanying soaring windows with views up Broadway and onto the old cemetary where Alexander Hamilton is buried. There is a stone eagle outside one of the windows. The place is big (another 2-bedroom, with 2 bathrooms) with parquet floors and modern, though uninteresting kitchen. There is laundry in the building and a gym and very swell roof deck.

The Brooklyn Heights place is within what we imagined as our budget (really a great value for the money, in my opinion). The Financial District place is slightly over that budget, but we know we can afford it.

The Brooklyn Heights place is up to 15 minutes' walk from the subway, on a quiet street. There are lots of trees in Brooklyn Heights. The Financial District place is steps from myriad subway stops and lines, and an eleven-minute walk from Pat's office.

We are heavily leaning toward this second option, though it is not easy to picture giving up what I see as the comfortableness of the first option. The Brooklyn Heights place reminded us a little of Capitol Hill. In Washington, I would have loved to live on Capitol Hill. But now we're in New York! Can we resist the thrill of Manhattan? Can we ever forgive ourselves if we don't make the bold move?

These are questions we pondered as we ate at the Corner Shop Cafe, in the Washington Square/NoHo neighborhood. We were quite impressed with this place. I took the plunge and reacquainted myself with vegetables after a long hiatus, having a spinach salad and a little tub of the most marvelous, buttery Gorgonzola mashed potatoes. I also had a nice Cotes du Rhone to go with it. Pat had an ear of corn, a tub of truffle mac and cheese, and an apple cobbler dessert. All the food was great and we liked the atmosphere.

Jackson Hole Burgers, 521 3rd Ave., Manhattan

Back in Washington, Pat and I didn't get to see much of his college roommate Brian and Brian's wife Becca, who live in Connecticut. But now they are so close that they drove in just to have dinner with us!

We ate at Jackson Hole, which is owned by someone who went to Brian's high school. Jackson Hole is one of the many great options just steps away from our apartment in Murray Hill. It has a cowboy theme. Becca was sitting under a saddle.

I had the "Southwest" chicken sandwich, with onions and guacamole. It was huge and delicious.

After dinner we went to the Moonstruck Diner at 449 3rd Ave. for dessert. Brian got an Oreo milkshake, and then the waiter brought the rest of us jaw-droppingly enormous slices of lemon meringue pie (Becca), chocolate cake (Pat), and cheesecake (me). His response to our delighted stares was that the pieces he had left were small enough that had he cut us regular-sized slices, he'd just have to discard the rest anyway. We were mighty happy. The texture and taste of my cheesecake were fantastic, although I did not like the cakey crust. I enjoyed the second half of it the next day.

Nelson Blue, 36 Peck Slip, Manhattan

Lured by the possibility of deals and a short commute, Pat and I are looking at the Financial District as a potential place to live. He hadn't explored the neighborhood yet (despite working there) so we did a little poking around last night.

The theme of the evening was blue. I wore a blue sweater. Pat, who had not been informed of the theme, wore a dashing grey pinstriped suit with a gold tie. Just FYI.

We had drinks in the Blue Bar at the India House. This was not actually what I expected. It is a lovely space and the drinks were tasty, but the lights could have used some serious dimming, and the music was atrocious: the BeeGees, Barry Manilow, Whitney Houston, Dolly Parton. Were we in a happy hour hideaway in the fast-pased financial district in the world's most interesting city, or were we taking a break between shuffleboard games on a Sunday morning in Fort Lauderdale? Hard to say. My Not For Tourists bible had said to go up the stairs and to the left to the secret bar, and while we did go up a few stairs, and to the left, we couldn't help but feeling there must have been more stairs or a further left to reach what we were seeking. I intend to inquire with NFT about this.

I took Pat down Stone St. for a taste of the ambiance, and then down Front St. to our dinner destination, Nelson Blue. Pat went to New Zealand two years ago, right before I met him, and has since been waxing nostalgically about Speight's beer, which he had been told was unobtainable in the United States. I had looked on the Nelson Blue website and Speight's was on the menu, and I shared this with Pat as we entered the restaurant. Imagine the crushing blow when we learned that they stopped carrying it a year and a half ago. But Pat was touched nonetheless that I had tried to reunite him with his favorite beer. And then the food redeemed the place. He had the lamb lollipops ("lollichops"), and I had the crispy salmon in a coconutty, limey sauce with leeks. I only wish I'd had bread to sop up the sauce that remained after I tucked away the salmon. We wanted the cheesecake for dessert but they were out, so we settled for the pecan pie. While it was very good, we both agreed that it needed a dollop or two of ice cream (or schlag!) to cool it off and moisten it up a little bit.

Mendy's, 61 E 34th St., Manhattan

After last night's overeatathon, Pat and I had no appetite for anything more than a hot dog at lunch, so we each got one from a vendor on 34th St. in front of Macy's, in the Lower Midtown neighborhood. They were flavorless, the buns were stale, and the pricetag - $2.50 each - was disgraceful. I can't believe I lost my NYC street hot dog virginity that way.

By 4:30, then, we were really hungry, so we stopped by Mendy's, right by our apartment in Murray Hill, on our way home. Pat got matzo ball soup (above average) and a corned beef sandwich on rye, which I split with him. The sandwich was fine, and he like the coleslaw accompaniment.

We spent the afternoon with a broker, Greg, seeing apartments. I found I was at least as pleased with the Upper West Side as the first time I saw it. We saw a couple places that were just too small, but my favorite of the day was overlooking Broadway Ave., and quite large - 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. It had large windows and even (slight intake of breath) a washer and dryer. The kitchen had ugly cabinets but it was big. The views were very good - quite a cityscape. The building had lots of character. We took a cab from the Upper West Side to the West Village, and it was interesting to feel the connectedness of the different neighborhoods, which you don't get on the subway. It's all New York, is how it feels in a cab.

We ended up not being able to see a couple places in the West Village, and the ones (both in one building) that we saw were uninteresting. Although we would practically be neighbors with Sarah Jessica Parker. Not to mention Carrie Bradshaw. Ha ha. Greg pointed out to us many gastronomical destinations on Bleecker Street to which we must return. There was also a cute street that he encouraged us to explore - I believe it was Morton St.

We took a cab to Brooklyn Heights and saw two places, the first being a cool, quirky converted carriage house. It had lots of space and we were charmed by things like a big mirror with heavy federal-style framing around it, skylights, odd angles and interesting molding. But it did feel very old to me and I worried a little about how well it would retain heat (the radiators were off, so it was hard to tell). Then we saw another quirky place, on the ground/basement floor of a building facing the promenade. The main room was large and impressive but the rest of it was small and unimpressive. We liked the shared back yard but it was below the level of the promenade, kind of defeating the interest of being on the promenade. Incidentally, the promenade looked shorter than I had envisioned it yesterday. There would need to be some back and forth for the running, not that that's so bad.

Wolfgang's Steakhouse, 4 Park Ave., Manhattan

Pat's sister Kathleen and her boyfriend Paul took the train in to stay overnight with us and celebrate Kathleen's birthday at Wolfgang's Steakhouse in Murray Hill. It was a magnificent feast. I skipped the bread and so my first treat was a hulking slice of Canadian bacon, I wish it had had more fat to soften it up a little but it was very good nonetheless. Then the main event showed up: filet, ribeye, and porterhouse, and roasted potatoes, and creamed spinach. I had requested the filet but it was the least good piece; the porterhouse was fantastic. I have been disappointed by many a creamed spinach but at Wolfgang's it was all I had hoped for. We gorged ourselves, and then in an act of masochism, we ordered a slice of cheesecake and a hot fudge sundae, each with a massive dollop of schlag. The cheesecake was the right consistency but the taste was a little salty, somehow. The sundae was decadent. The schlag was like a fat, heavy cloud that drifted down from heaven.

I ate way too much.

Still, I look eagerly forward to the leftovers.

Luke's Lobster, 93 E 7th St., Manhattan

I almost don't really know where to begin about our lobster rolls at Luke's in the East Village. They were simply divine. They each arrived in a 3-sided tray perfect for eating out of the open end, and the chunks of colorful lobster were cool and glistening, barely yet tantalizingly seasoned, cradled in a hot, buttered, toasted piece of soft delicious bread. We did not care for the East Village, but sitting on that stool, consuming that divinity, I thought about how we could move in upstairs or at the very least, I could apply to become a Luke's employee. It's all about the access to the lobster rolls. Mmmmmmmmm.

Afterward, we went to Dumbo so Pat could check it out too. He liked the brick streets with the disused railroad tracks cutting through them. I slurped a thick hot chocolate from Jacques Torres Chocolates at 66 Water St. Pat asked at one point whether we are hip enough to live there, and I answered that I believed we are, or at least, we could be!

We checked out Brooklyn Heights, too, on the recommendation of our broker. It was nice. Along the East River, there is what appears to be a long promenade where a person could run - easing my fears that Brooklyn Heights (and Dumbo too) lacked a good running option.

Murray's Bagels, 500 6th Ave., Manhattan

I savored a sesame seed bagel with kalamata olive spread, and a cup of hot apple cider, at Murray's Bagels on the upper edge of the West Village. All good.

It was again freezing, so I wasn't really up for much walking around, but I saw the upper part of the Village, including a short foray up the High Line. That was a little bit of urban joy that I hope to see more of on a day when my lips aren't whipped numb by the wind. What little I saw of the West Village was very appealing, with snazzy housing that really looks like New York (in contrast with the Park Slope and Chelsea streets that could have been in a pleasant but mundane elsewhere) and some hip-looking stores and eateries. I wanted to burst into Christian Louboutin even before I could make out from the sign that it was, in fact, Christian Louboutin, but then I checked my fleece-pants-and sneakers-wearing self and determined to save it for another day.

It looks like you could run or bike along the river.

Walking back through Midtown, I had this thought: you know how the internet is like all the world's stores virtually in front of you, and you can get anything you want? Well midtown is like all the internet physically in front of you, and you can get anything you want.

Suteishi, 24 Peck Slip, Manhattan

Several years ago, while having lunch in a Japanese restaurant in Rio, I smiled and said "si" when a waitress asked me a question in Portugese that I just assumed was "is your meal okay?" As it turns out, she was asking me if I wanted some sake, even though I already had a glass of wine, and so I ended up with a brimming glass of sake, and I drank it, and departed Rio drunk. It was awesome.

This afternoon, I visited the hip Suteishi, and while not actually aiming to replicate my Rio experience, I did want some sake. I am sure my eyes widened when it turned out I had ordered quite a large bottle of Pure Kizakura, but I thought fondly on my Rio sake, and I drank almost all of it. I also had a Kimono Roll and a piece of yellowtail sushi. Both were fantastic. I will say that the kimono roll, with avocado and spicy salmon and roe and pieces of crunchy tempura, may have benefitted a little too much from the tempura. It was like eating a delectable piece of State Fair food. I don't think it was ideal for appreciating the salmon and roe. But I loved it nonetheless, and that's not just the sake talking.

Afterward I enjoyed hot chocolate and a cheesecake dome at Financier Patisserie (62 Stone Street). I also got a couple bottles of wine with the help of a friendly clerk at the Greene Grape, and was sort of blown away by the marvelous shop Zeytuna, where I got cheese and crackers, albeit at a premium.

All this was in the context of exploring a little of the Financial District. I could see living there. The tall buildings are a bit intimidating but there are still nice shops and restaurants tucked in like everywhere else in New York, as well as historical buildings, streets, and even ships. Being so close to the World Trade Center site was sobering for me, though. And I didn't see all of the neighborhood because it was cold as hell.

So far I have not had any problems with the subway, either in terms of figuring out where I'm going or the availability of the trains. Granted, I have only been here 5 days. This afternoon I was standing on the platform when a delay was announced, and a deranged-sounding woman next to me went off in a strong New York accident to an unfortunate bystander about how the problems are "constant, and I'm not going to stand for it anymore. They take your money and the train only goes to [name of stop.] It's a one-armed bandit. A one-armed bandit!" and then the train pulled up. I had been waiting approximately 2 minutes, and if that's one-armed banditry, then I'll take it.

Resto, 111 E. 29th St., Manhattan

Resto in Murray Hill was recommended by the guidebook my sister gave me, the Not For Tourists Guide to New York City. This book has become my bible.

Still, Resto had some minuses with its pluses. The pluses were: delicious frites (we had the sweet chili and the lemon and paprika sauces; both were good); huge portions of mussels (Pat had the green curry and I had the mustard/bacon; his was better); great beer (Pat had Wostonjie mustard beer and I had Corsendonk brown; both excellent); pleasant setting. I liked the drink menu pasted into the pages of a gardening book.

The minuses: tables too close together (the waiters kept pressing up against my chair); service was a little slow; whipped salt cod appetizer was nothing to write home about; the beer was expensive ($14 for Pat's bottle and $12 for mine); close to half of my mussels were unopened (not that I could have eaten them all in any case!).

Smiling Pizzeria, 323 7th Ave., Brooklyn

I had a slice of mushroom pizza at the Smiling Pizzeria in Brooklyn's Park Slope neighborhood, and it was delicious. I got that crisp-to-the-tip crust I craved. It could have been a little hotter, but I was happy.

People kept telling me I want to live in Park Slope. They raved about it. I was disappointed. It was pretty boring. It has some great features - wide streets, block after block of pretty housing, Prospect Park looks great for running - but there wasn't much about it that said "New York" to me. And the Atlantic Avenue subway stop is in a pretty dodgy place (though there are other stops in the neighborhood).

So I wasn't expecting much when I took the train a few stops away to the York St. stop in Dumbo, but I was immediately pleased when I emerged from the subway. It just feels cool. Cool shops (Trunk, Zakka Corp) and cool-looking restaurants and clubs. Someone was filming actors in period costumes. Someone else was doing a photo shoot with a fat, skanky-looking model. I walked to the waterfront and the view of Manhattan was spectacular. The buildings look like cool places to live.

I walked back through Brooklyn Heights to get to the subway, and while not cool, Brooklyn Heights is darned close to Dumbo, which made me like Brookyn Heights too. The park there (Cadman Plaza) is too small for great running, though. It seems like after they finish work on the waterfront (supposedly this summer), that could be a good place to run, but I couldn't tell for sure.

Pizza 33, 489 3rd Ave., Manhattan

We headed for dinner last night at Resto, on 29th St. at Park Ave. in Murray Hill, but it was closed for a private party, so we went instead to Pizza 33. It is much more a takeout/delivery place than sit-in. The pizza was nothing special. The toppings (fresh mozzarella, red sauce, basil, meatballs) were good and the crust was fine. It was one of those crusts that get saggy in the middle and I know a lot of people like that, but I prefer an all-around sturdy crust.

Earlier in the day I had explored the Upper West Side and found it very pleasant. It would be a lovely place to live from a runner's/walker's point of view, with paths along the river on its west side and Central Park on the east. Much of the architecture was grand and interesting, and it was lively along the avenues without feeling at all hectic. Broadway Ave. in particular is bustling and had restaurants and shops that drew me. The subway access was simple and I could see myself living there.

I have started noticing signs around New York that make me extremely happy: fines of $350 if people honk! Honking drives me crazy.

I went for a short run from our apartment, down 34th St. toward the river. There are signs for a "greenway" if you take a left at the river but it is currently under construction, appearing anything but green, and I find it hard to imagine it will be terribly pleasant even when it's done, running as it does alongside a busy road. Still, any path is a welcome one for a runner in a city.

La Giara, 501 3rd Ave., Manhattan

La Giara in Murray Hill has a deal on Mondays that drew us in: all pastas $9! But the food was disappointing. I had pappardelle with a red sauce with roasted duck. There were a few pieces of duck that did nothing to flavor the sauce, and some of the noodles were stuck together. Pat had penne with sausage and peas, also in a red sauce, and was unimpressed.

Afterward we went to La Salle (489 3rd Ave) for gelato, which was okay.