Supper, 156 East 2nd St., Manhattan

When I left PSI, my lovely colleagues got me a great going-away present: a gift certificate to Supper, in the East Village. It was a generous amount so we had waited to herd some friends along before we redeemed it.

Brian and Becca were those lucky friends. Pat and I had an appetizer and drinks (me Coke, him wine) at the bar while we waited for them to arrive. The veal meatballs were great, and there was plenty for two. Pat was tickled by their entry on the menu: "baby veal meatballs." It meant, of course, that they were small, but he liked to picture the meatballs coming from "baby veals," which put us in mind of particularly youthful calves.

Supper has an interesting and marvelous policy with wine: you can order as little of a half-glass of any of the (mostly very expensive) wines on their menu, and they're happy to open a bottle, and when you leave they will charge you for just whatever portion of the bottle you drank. But Pat and Brian managed to just about polish off a whole bottle!

My entree was pappardelle with mushrooms (very good - I just finished the leftovers!) and I had tiramisu for dessert, which I'd call excellent. The entrees were very reasonably priced - really good value. I have to say I was not delighted with the physical space. I was on a bench that didn't offer much of a cushion (covered in plastic, no less!) on the seat, and no cushion at all on the back - by the end of the night I was squirming in discomfort. And it was quite loud, which probably wouldn't have bothered me before I became so darned old and crotchety.

The bar is actually 2 doors down from the restaurant, and I liked it better in there, really. You can order from the full menu there, too.

The Bagel Basket, 618 Amsterdam Ave., Manhattan

I was on the Upper West Side yesterday for a haircut, for which I had a Groupon. It was at a salon called Bodre. Don't go there. Enough said. Happily, a haircut is not forever.

The Bagel Basket was not my intended bagel destination after that; I had been heading for Barney Greengrass, recommended by NFT. Alas, Barney Greengrass was closed. So I found myself at the Bagel Basket, a couple blocks north. It was not so great. The bagel was ordinary, and the salmon & scallion cream cheese had too-big chunks of salmon and scallions. I will say that the woman who served me was very nice, and you don't see that very often, so bonus points are due.

Yorganic, 275 Greenwich St., Manhattan

It was actually a couple of weeks ago that I ordered from Yorganic, in Tribeca, via the Seamless website. I felt kind of sick (pregnancy....ugh) and only a smoothie sounded palatable for dinner. I chose the Tropical Bliss Smoothie and a juice that I threw in just to meet the dollar minimum for delivery. The smoothie was good, although nothing special, but the real story here is that it arrived just 18 minutes after I placed the order! Honestly, you cannot do better than wanting something and having it show up at your door 18 minutes later. Instant gratification.

Kitchenette, 1272 Amsterdam Ave., Manhattan

I am looking for a job, and I've been doing a lot of networking. I was in Morningside Heights one afternoon last week talking to the head of AVAC, an HIV prevention advocacy organization, and turned to my trusty NFT afterward for a recommendation for an early dinner. Kitchenette was just a couple blocks away.

When I walked in, my eyes seized upon three cakes in domes on the counter. They looked moist and naughty and I hungered for them. But I'm eating for two and it would be wrong to forsake some genuine nutrients for a piece of cake, so I did the sensible thing and ordered real food: a biscuit with eggs and cheese. I'm not saying it was healthy or anything like that. But at least I got, you know, protein and calcium and whatnot. Also, it was unholy delicious. That biscuit was decadent, and a perfect complement to the copious scrambled eggs with cheddar melted in.

And then, having checked the "real meal" box and feeling pretty full, I nonetheless ordered a piece of cake, naturally. It was the right move. I chose the lemon cake. The crumb was spectacular, the taste angelic, the frosting tart and somewhat jelly-like. Baby would not have wanted me to miss it, I'm sure.

Ellen's Stardust Diner, 1650 Broadway, Manhattan

Last weekend Pat's college friend J.D., his wife Michelle, and their 8-year-old son Trey came to stay with us from Baltimore. This was Trey's big New York debut.

We took an amusing trip to the Central Park Zoo, a place Trey has long wanted to visit because of the movie "Madagascar" (Trey also wants to visit Rio de Janiero, because he has seen the movie "Rio," obviously). I was impressed by the tropics building, and, despite its atrocious smell, the penguin building.

We went to FAO Schwartz after that; it was my first visit. That place rocks. You could literally get lost in it. A parent would have to be pretty brave to take their kid there and not expect to drop some serious cash on all the fun stuff.

Soon it was dinnertime, but lunchtime had taught us that one must choose wisely for Trey, who had rejected two brunch menus earlier that day, innocently exclaiming, "isn't there ANYWHERE to get lunch in New York?" To find a dinner winner, J.D. googled "fun restaurants" on his iPhone and thus it was that we found ourselves at Ellen's Stardust Diner, in Midtown, a place where I might not otherwise have been caught dead. Ellen's, it turns out, is where aspiring actors wait tables and serenade dining tourists while hoping for their big break on Broadway. Some of them were quite talented, actually. Our favorite was a waiter who hammed up a cheesy Brian Adams song. You could picture some of these folks on the Great White Way (others, not so much).

However spirited the atmosphere, the food was dismal, and absurdly overpriced even had it not been dismal (which, to reemphasize, it WAS). I had a milkshake that passable at best, and a hamburger that was like a sawdust patty. But we were not there for me! I believe Trey enjoyed himself very much, and even liked whatever it was he ate. Mission accomplished.

South Brooklyn Pizza, 122 1st Ave., Manhattan

Pat and I stumbled on South Brooklyn Pizza (no name on the outside! a delicious secret!) in the East Village many moons ago, when we were already stuffed with Luke's Lobster, and he gazed dreamily into the window and told himself he'd be back. Today was the day.

We were in the East Village because we went to see hordes of dogs dressed up for Halloween in a nearby park. I like dogs. I don't necessarily like them better when they are wearing lobster or cowboy or Dorothy costumes, but it doesn't hurt. We found ourselves a railing to lean against right where the dogs were coming and going from the costume contest, so it was prime viewing territory. It was fun.

Afterward, we partook of margarita slices at South Brooklyn Pizza, nearby. I felt that the crust was incredible. It was crispy and flavorful. The single vacant-looking employee overdid it a bit with the olive oil on top, but that crust! Pat, who is a frequent consumer of slices, was surprised at the high $4 pricetag on these babies. But have I mentioned their delicious crust?

Unrelatedly, here is a picture of me with minus-five-months-old Baby Girl Aylward. She likes pizza too.

SouthWest NY, 2 World Financial Center, Manhattan

Pat and I still haven't exhausted our supply of Foodie Registry gift certificates that we reaped when we got hitched, and now's the time to use them, before an infant makes dining out more of a circus (or, indeed, altogether inadvisable or impractical. Not really sure what to expect.). So a couple weeks ago I phoned Pat at work at the end of the day and informed him that not only had I changed out of my pajamas into real clothes (hey, I'm unemployed, remember? You secretly wish you could spend all day in your PJs if you want!), but I also did not feel like puking, so we should sieze the day and go out for dinner.

We went to SouthWest NY, in Battery Park City. This certificate was courtesy of my college roommate Sarah and her husband Chuck. It is right by Pat's office, and we sat outside next to the harbor on the Hudson and had a very pleasant time. My SWNY sliders were surprisingly good - basically one big ol' patty in a perfect soft bun, cut into four pieces, a little spicy, with some crispy onion thingies. Delicious.

Amelia's Bistro, 187 Warren St., Jersey City

I still have alarmingly few friends in New York, so it is with sadness that Pat and I had a sort of a goodbye dinner for his fun coworkers Jen and Brian last night. They are moving to London. Which means there will still be opportunities for us to see them, but they will not be part of our small crowd of New York friends any longer. I sigh wistfully, but obviously we wish them the best, and they deserve it.

For this dinner I made my first ferry crossing of the Hudson River, to Jersey City. It was cool. Much cooler than a subway ride. The ferry ride back, after dark, was particularly cool because we got to admire the lit-up New York skyline for 8 whole minutes. Quite romantic for Pat and I and the ferry's one other passenger at 9:40ish PM.

Amelia's Bistro is a neighborhood favorite of Jen and Brian. It was Monday Lobster Fest, which meant a $20 whole lobster for Pat (normally $25). I wanted lobster but also wanted pasta (still feeling nauseous at 16 weeks of pregnancy, which is not the way it's supposed to work....grrrrr), so I got the lobster fettucine. It was satisfying, although I wish the sauce had had more flavor. Brian and Jen both had the fried chicken, a previous winner for them, and we all enjoyed an appetizer of funky mozzarella sticks with some sort of meat wrapped in a kind of an eggroll wrapper, sort of.

The Capital Grille, 120 Broadway, Manhattan

Armed with a gift certificate, Pat and I roused ourselves from the couch on one of our laziest Saturdays ever, last weekend, and travelled the couple blocks east to the Capital Grille, in the Financial District. This is an outpost of a Washington restaurant so it had the ring of the familiar to us.

I was delighted with my lobster- and crab-stuffed shrimp. The leftovers were equally satisfying the next day. Pat was not thrilled that his steak and lobster had a creamy sauce on it, but he did finish the whole plate, so evidently it didn't slow him down. We had a side of creamed spinach that was plenty creamy (and also functioned as a nice next-day leftover).

It has gotten a little more difficult to maneuver around the FiDi since the protesters took up residence, a few weeks ago already.  I have spent weeks being unclear on their message, and then someone pointed me to their laughable list of "demands." I am predisposed to loathe any and all protesters, because I feel like my own sanity and schedule are always collateral damage when they get a bee in their bonnet that has nothing to do with me. Years spent in Washington meant years being annoyed by protesters. So maybe it's not saying much that I find these particular protesters to be clueless, but I wanted to put it out there anyway.

Rice Thai, 311 7th Ave, Brooklyn

Some time ago I joined the Prospect Park Track Club. I ran a few of their races and the people are always so friendly, and I like them. They have regular (monthly?) meetings that I haven't attended before, but since I have stopped running for the winter, I decided to go to last night's meeting just to stay current and maybe get some human interaction. Such is the life of a new, unemployed New Yorker: I will go all the way to Brooklyn, in the rain, for human interaction.

The meeting was quite short and I didn't see anyone I knew there, so I didn't have a conversation with anyone, but that's okay. On the way home I stopped randomly for dinner at Park Slope's Rice Thai. I had a Thai iced tea and red curry with tofu. I have decided it's time to start trying to observe Meatless Mondays again, in the interests of saving the planet. Back when I did this "regularly" I was never very good at remembering it was Meatless Monday before getting halfway through, say, a roast beef sandwich, but at least I was trying, and I intend to start trying again.

The curry was good, but nothing special. Rice was a dollar extra, which I always find kind of annoying. The steamed tofu in the curry was perfectly fine, and it had the requisite bamboo shoots and basil (although why were eggplants added?). I wish the green bell peppers had been red instead.

Community Food and Juice, 2893 Broadway, Manhattan

It has been a while since we saw our friends Anne and Eric and their son Julian, but Pat and I joined them for an enjoyable brunch in Morningside, at Community Food and Juice, whose sister restaurant (in the East Village?) apparently always has lines out the door. We were seated right away at CFJ, and Pat and I both enjoyed pancakes (banana walnut and blueberry, respectively) with the most divine maple butter syrup. It was like peace and love in syrup form (or is all my recent yoga having an effect on me?).

Eric and Anne had told us at our last get-together that they knew of a bakery with cookies that would change our lives, and I insisted I was not leaving the Upper West Side without one today. And thus it was that we found ourselves at Levain Bakery, 167 W. 74th St. Pat and I got three of the hulking, $4 cookies and shared them at home. They are browned and slightly crispy on the outside, and the mounded innards are barely cooked and gooey. My life has been changed; what can I say?

2 West Restaurant, 2 West St., Manhattan

Pat has dinner occasionally with a consultant with whom he works, Dan, and Dan was kind enough to invite me to join them this week. 2 West is in the Ritz-Carlton where Dan stays in Battery Park City. I have run and walked past this Ritz-Carlton a million times, and never realized it was a hotel. This struck me as interesting at the time, although as I think about it now, it seems sort of irrelevant, since who do I know who can afford to stay in the Ritz, even when they're traveling on their company's dime? Maybe someday I'll run in those circles!

I had a good lobster bisque, but was less pleased by my entree, which was salmon with caramelized red onions and roasted fingerling potatoes. The salmon needed something to cut its richness, but the onions and potatoes weren't really appealing. I put the leftover salmon and onions in wrap the next day with spinach and cream cheese, however, and it was nice.

Cookshop, 156 10th Ave., Manhattan

I think this blog has exactly one reader, my husband Pat (thanks for your loyal following, sweetie!). So I'm not really worried that anyone who should hear this sort of thing from me in person will find out from the blog that I am 14 weeks pregnant.

It really needed to be said on the blog, because it is a big reason that the writer of a blog that is primarily about restaurants has visited so few restaurants lately. Food and I have developed a new, frequently contentious relationship since early August. I have to think about food all day long, because an empty stomach is a trigger to throw up. Planning and eating food all day is very tiresome. And while it's starting to get better with the end of the first trimester, a lot of foods are/were no longer appealing. For a while I was subsisting on starches, desserts, and some seafood, and hoping my embryo/fetus was getting by on the vitamins I've been taking to compensate.

All this to say, eating became a chore, and hence the lack of posts in the last couple months (additionally, I have traveled a lot, which I also don't recommend doing while under the influence of a fetus).

Anyway, I still manage to throw on the one pair of jeans that still zips up and get out every now and then, and so Pat and I went to Cookshop in Chelsea with our friends Stephanie and Graham one night a week or so ago. We had a mushroom pizza appetizer that was remarkably good, and I had a steak (flank? I can't remember) that was not so good - too many unchewable strings that are awkward to deal with in public (I enjoyed the leftovers better the next day, when no one was around to watch me wrestling with them).

Num Pang Sandwich Shop, 140 East 41st St., Manhattan

I have started taking yoga classes for the first time ever. I got a Groupon for $39 for unlimited classes 7 days a week, and for an unemployed person, this is a hell of a bargain. In the first five days I have been to four classes! I like it. I have always liked stretching and it is very stretching-focused. Probably if I was doing it right, it would be more strength-focused, too. And it is more spiritual than anything I have attempted since religion. There are several minutes at the end of every class where you're just supposed to lie there in the dark (they dim the lights) and think about your connectedness to the earth and the energy in your body and whatnot. Even better, the instructor goes around with lavender-scented oil on her hands and gives your temples and forehead a micro-massage during this quiet time...that is ecstasy. Anyway I am sure the rest of the 60 minutes I look like an idiot because I am swiveling my head around to see how everyone else does the poses, and then I am probably doing the poses wrong. But who cares?

The yoga studio is in east midtown, close to the East River. I get off the subway at Grand Central and between there and the studio I spotted Num Pang Sandwich Shop, with a promising line of customers. It is a to-go place. I went after class last night, and ordered the coconut shrimp sandwich. It was wonderful! It was similar to what I got from Bao Noodles a while back, albeit more expensive ($7.75). I think this is Vietnamese food, yes? I want more of these sandwiches.

Four Seasons Thai Restaurant, 612 Amsterdam Ave., Manhattan

I spent so much time away from New York in the latter half of the summer that it seems like a million years between popping into Four Seasons, on the Upper West Side, and whatever my last new restaurant experience was (I don't even remember, although of course you can just scroll down!). It is nice to be back. Pat's and my honeymoon in California and Hawaii was wonderful, and I loved seeing all my old friends in Washington, but my day-to-day life since coming to New York is like most people's idea of a vacation, so no regrets about returning to "ordinary."

I was in the UWS for a doctor's appointment and was super-hungry, and Four Seasons was right there, and next thing you know I was ordering the lunch special (soup, salad, and an entree) for $6.95, and next thing you know after THAT, I was deliriously shoveling forkful after forkful of red curry into my mouth. It didn't even look good, when it arrived on my table. But it WAS good, really really good, and a big portion to boot. For $7! That is what I'm talkin' about, yaknowwhatumsane?

Haru Sushi, 1 Wall Street Ct., Manhattan

Pat and I were on our way to Suteishi last night when we passed Haru Sushi, in the Financial District, and were drawn in out of curiosity and laziness (why walk the extra blocks to Suteishi?).

My tuna/avocado roll and Philadelphia roll were as hoped for, and rich enough that I couldn't even finish the last two pieces of the latter. Pat has been reading a book by Anthony Bourdain that inspired him to order a piece of toro sushi, but he wasn't impressed by it, and was unsure whether it was a bad example of toro sushi or toro sushi is just not what Anthony intimated it would be. However, his hatsu yume roll was delicious.

Side note: we have a question about chopsticks. We are adequately dexterous at getting bite-sized pieces of food into our mouths with them, but what happens when the pieces are too big to eat in one bite? Seems like they fall apart between your sticks if you just take a bite out of those pieces. Then we're lost, and ashamed, and unfulfilled. Probably there is a YouTube instructional video on this somewhere, for which I have no intention of searching.

Back to the matter at hand, the waiter was nice but the service was slow.

We still prefer Suteishi but I wouldn't mind going back to Haru.

Bagelry, 1324 Lexington Ave., Manhattan

You already know how I feel about bagels: I like them, and I'm not picky. Since arriving in New York I have happily consumed many a bagel and been wowed only once. I was not wowed by my toasted sesame bagel with lox spread at Bagelry, on the Upper East Side, and you know what? That's okay. It was nice enough.

I had nothing urgent to do today so I just walked down Lexington for a spell, and in the park a little bit, and savored being back in New York after a trip away for two weeks. The weather was perfect. The people passing by were wildly varied and frequently cliches (the tough-looking kids with the thick New York accents; the teensy old lady dressed to the nines; the slutty-looking girl walking her poodle and complaining to someone on her phone). It is heaven to have free time to enjoy the people-watching. I am so lucky.

Liberatos Pizza, 17 Cedar St., Manhattan

Lest anyone out there should be worried that I haven't eaten for three weeks, or get the crazy idea that I have been cooking rather than eating out, let me set you straight: I have been traveling. Food was procured and consumed, just not in New York. Some of it quite marvelous. I had tandoori chicken from the hotel room service in New Delhi, India, that tasted like the best thing I'd had in a long time (it is unclear whether I was just super hungry and disoriented from jet lag), and I had fish and chips that totally hit the spot from a couple places in Warrington, Cheshire, England. There was also a good Thai spot, with a charming and unexpected garden, in the neighborhood where my sister lives, in southeast London.

I got back on Monday. It was an odd sensation to finally fly back to New York and get off the plane and still feel like I was kind of a visitor. I guess five months here is not enough to be really convinced it's home yet, but it doesn't bother me. This is an absorbing place to be a visitor.

Unfortunately, all the planes, trains and automobiles over 2 weeks were not good for my stomach, and I've been taking it easy, gastronomically, since I got back. I was seeking bland comfort food when I turned to SeamlessWeb (now just "Seamless," apparently) a couple nights ago for baked ziti with meat ragu from Liberatos Pizza, in the Financial District. The order was huge and slathered in gooey, delicious cheese, and cream, and tomato sauce. It was so wrong, yet just right.

Thalia, 828 8th Ave., Manhattan

We have my dear college roomie Becky and her husband Nate to thank for a great dinner last night at Thalia, in midtown. They provided a gift certificate as a wedding present. We greatly enjoyed our meals. It turns out it is actually still Restaurant Week (make that "Weeks") and Pat ordered pork tenderloin off that menu. He also got what was practically a vat of soup and dessert (chocolate/peanut profiteroles - very decadent). I got beef spareribs with asparagus, beets, and a parsnip puree. Does the puree sound kind of weird? Because it was. It was good, though. All of it was delicious and two thumbs up for the clever arrangement of the white asparagus under the meat, as if it were the bones. Cute!

I am compelled to note that New York (well, half the country, actually) has become an oven, and the subway has become that part of the oven from which the blue flames emanate to heat the whole thing. I am surprised there are not train breakdowns because of the heat, but bless those trains, they just keep humming along with nary a wait of more than a few sweaty minutes. I guess it is not strictly necessary for me to point out that Washington trains seemed to break down all the time in the heat and cause massive delays and backups, even though that system is actually air-conditioned, so let's just pretend I didn't point it out in a superior manner the way I just did.

George's, 89 Greenwich St., Manhattan

Today was actually the third time I have been to George's, in the Financial District. I think perhaps the reason I did not log it earlier was that it has been a mediocre experience every time! I have partaken of the pancakes, a mushroom omelet, and a tomato/basil/mozzarella wrap. All very ordinary. And they are always kind of slow with the bill. I have only been going there at the whim of others.

Portions are very large, diner-style; I'll give 'em that.

Caracas Arepa Bar, Beach 106th St., Queens

Pat and I have made a cool new friend, Erin. I was e-introduced to her by our mutual friend Shimon. She came to our party last weekend, and this weekend she invited us to join her and other friends for a day at Rockaway Beach in Queens. In June, the New York Times had an article on how the hipsters are all flocking to Rockaway, and I wondered whether we were cool enough, but when we got there it turned out you had to look hard for that sort of thing. Sure, a couple Manhattan hotspots have outposts on the boardwalk, and yes, a few bearded, fedora-wearing twenty-somethings were among the crowds on the sand. But other than that, we could have been at Virginia Beach or the Outer Banks, when we were down by the water. And once you are away from the water, Rockaway is downright ugly.

Being on the beach was really, really pleasant though. When I'm not at a beach, I find it hard to believe that I can really feel so relaxed as when I'm on the sand, taunting the sun with my sunscreen-slathered bright-white body, feeling the ocean breeze, hearing the waves, gazing at the dazzling blue of the sky. But it's real. Ahhhhhhh. Erin's friends were all fun and we spent a happy few hours. We also enjoyed really excellent arepas from Caracas Arepa Bar. Mine was beef. Pat's had avocado, queso, and plantains.

Last night I participated in Improv Everywhere's latest stunt. All I knew beforehand was that I had to wear a black t-shirt, bring various items that light up or glow, and be at a certain part of Battery Park City at 8:30 PM, with a downloaded recording of instructions, not to be played before precisely 8:30. I would say there were maybe a thousand participants. It turned out that the premise was that there were two tribes (black t-shirts and white t-shirts) and we were to meet and greet each other, then celebrate a festival of lights. It was a riot! For about 45 minutes, we performed silly bows and handshakes with strangers, danced with glowsticks and masks, had light-sabre battles, played freezetag, high-fived mystified onlookers, and took pictures on cue - all this and more according to the directions on our mp3 players. I loved it because of 1) the silliness, 2) the mystery, and 3) being part of a massive event. It was also a perfect summer night.

Bunrasa, 109 Washington St., Manhattan

We walked a couple blocks to Bunrasa, in the Financial District, to give it a whirl for takeout on Friday night. We were the only people there. It was sad. We were also sad to see that the pub a couple doors down, the one about which we had long said "we should check that place out," closed earlier this month. As Pat pointed out, it must be so much more of a struggle for businesses down there since the end of the twin towers, but then we also wondered how that pub survived these ten years only to close its doors now. Tough times.

Anyway, we gave Bunrasa our business on Friday. We were going to order panang curry and green curry, but the lady behind the counter was a little distressed that we didn't want her pad thai, which she informed us was "five stars." So we went with green curry and pad thai. The curry was very spicy in a "hurts so good," take-a-bite-blow-your-nose kind of way. Good flavor, juicy shrimp, healthy vegetables. It was enough for two meals for me. The pad thai was really not five stars, in our humble opinions. Its flavor was not terribly compelling and Pat thought the chicken was a little dry.

I would go back to this place and try a few more options, especially given the proximity to our apartment and the pluckiness of the woman behind the counter.

Park Avenue Summer, 100 E. 63rd St., Manhattan

Park Avenue Summer was our Restaurant Week finale. It is on the Upper East Side and apparently every season it changes decor, menu, and even name ("Park Avenue Winter," etc.).

This was the best of our three Restaurant Week experiences. The food was a delight before we even got what we'd ordered - we were treated to cheddar rolls and sweet corn rolls, plus cubes of yellow watermelon sitting sweetly atop skewers in a little container of fake grass. I had a very pretty little beet salad to start and Pat got decadent gnocchi. He then paid extra for the filet mignon which he thought was great, and I had scallops. That dish had a couple little missteps - the scallops were a little on the chewy side, and there were these unfortunate seeds that would sneak up on you with a disturbing crunch just as you were enjoying a bite. The desserts were great. Pat had a pistacchio cake thing and I had peach panna cotta that had a very potent basil foam (who knew foam could pack so much punch?) and a layer of light gelatin and a very pure-tasting creamy base. It also came with lovely lemon cake fingers, which it didn't need.

Unrelatedly, I had a New York rite of passage today when I spent an hour and forty-five minutes at the DMV, trading in my Washington license for a New York one. I'm now not only a real New Yorker in the eyes of the state, but also one step closer to leaving my maiden name behind, which is cool.

Cipriani, 55 Wall St., Manhattan

One of my favorite movies is "The Thomas Crown Affair" (the remake), and when Pat booked us at Cipriani for our second Restaurant Week outing, I flashed back to the detectives being caught by surprise when Pierce Brosnan took Renee Russo to Cipriani after their first date at the Met, "and with no reservation." I am pretty sure they were not in the Financial District location that we went to, but still. We're living like we're in a movie. I should take this opportunity to point out that I was wearing very fabulous new shoes, like a movie star.

We sat on the balcony, and even got a little damp when there was a quick hard rain, but it was refreshing. The service was a little slow, but the food was very good. Pat's entree was a veal loaf wrapped in cabbage, and mine (not on the restaurant week menu) was grilled chilean sea bass, which was just wonderful. I also ordered a side of grilled veggies that was surprisingly delicious (I had only ordered them to be healthy!). Pat's dessert was a mocha cake that was, as he noted, reminiscent of tiramisu, only with more coffee flavor (coffee-er?).

Mr. Chow, 121 Hudson St., Manhattan

It is Restaurant Week in New York! When we learned this, Pat dropped everything and immediately made three reservations. The first was Monday, at Mr. Chow, in Tribeca. The decor is cool (although WHAT is with the odd series of huge close-ups of what appears to be Tarzan on one wall?), but it was a little loud - really the opposite of intimate. Also I felt a little too waited on. Lots of different guys coming around all the time, then scurrying ever so fleetly away.

Our 2 appetizers (we had a choice among four) were okay - a chicken satay with an unexpectedly rich sauce, and Mr. Chow's noodles, which were a little bland. Then we got one entree of Beijing chicken and one of green shrimp (again out of a choice of four), both of which were delicious, and accompanied by great fried rice. Both the entrees were slightly spicy. We did not get a choice on vegetables, but were happy with the green beans that showed up. Dessert was kind of a bust though - we had assumed we'd get a choice among ice cream and sorbet, but instead one (one!!) plate with a scoop of each and two spoons was deposited like lightning on our table by a waiter who then zoomed away, literally before I had even gotten my mouth open to question him. That was not cool. The flavors were nothing interesting, either.

Nam, 110 Reade St., Manhattan

Last night was the 6th rendition of my annual birthday party for Kevin Bacon. This year's theme, reflecting our recent move, was "Bacon in the Big Apple." Bacon parties in previous years have been attended by as many as 60 people but we just have not amassed legions of friends yet in New York, so we had about 15 people, who compensated in quality for what they lacked in quantity. Pat made his debut as a mixer of traditional cocktails and became an instant victim of his own success, spending the first half of the party in the kitchen with shakers and bitters and the like, until Matt P. took pity and relieved him as bartender. I had made bacon-chocolate cupcakes that were truly magnificent, but so rich that even I had trouble finishing one, plus the frosting contained enough butter and bacon fat (yes, you read that right) to kill a weak-hearted person at a single lick. Is that so wrong? Yet another highlight was the dance party that erupted late in the evening. The bacon-fueled joy could not be contained.

The day following a Bacon party is inevitably marked by sloth and half-hearted clean-up, so Pat and I didn't get out of the apartment until dinnertime. It was a lovely summer day (we have had so very many lovely summer days, incidentally; it has been a blissful couple of months) so we took a leisurely walk to Tribeca and had dinner at Nam. Pat had seafood dumplings in soup and shrimp rolls, and found them good. I was very happy with my lemongrass beef vermicelli with onions, carrot shavings, and lettuce. Well, I wasn't happy about the lettuce, but I picked it out. There were only 2 other pairs of people in the place while we were there, leading me to hope they do better business outside of Sundays. The decor is pleasing.

Just a little note to myself: the choice of Nam was the outcome of some research into walking-distance, highly-rated places, and other such options that we may explore in the future are Gigino Trattoria (323 Greenwich St) and Taj Tribeca (18 Murray St).

More restaurant & bar suggestions from Daily Candy

Daily Candy has offered some more potentially appealing suggestions.

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Although we like to party all the time, a proper workweek sendoff is best accomplished without a cab or subway ride. Since it’s Friday, we asked five more of our editors to divulge the neighborhood haunts they hold near and dear.

Bowery
Jillian K., editorial assistant
Warm Up: Beer. Option one, Swift (unpretentious, literary-themed bar with long benches in back) and two, McSorley’s (the only place guys get bumped from their chairs for girls).
Main Course: Ippudo doesn’t have a sign. Simply look for the ramen-crazed crowd, put your name in, and hop around the corner to Black & White to drink while you wait (86 East 10th Street, between Third and Fourth Avenues; 212-253-0246).
Next Level: Madam Geneva’s secret, Clue-like entrance and gin with homemade preserves make you feel cool. The late-night DJ at teensy, subterranean Kings Cross is always on point — and Hecho en Dumbo is right above when you need a dance break/snack.

Greenpoint
Holley S., editor, DailyCandy Deals
Warm Up: Berry Park on the Williamsburg border. Make a beeline for the rooftop on sunny days. If it’s raining (or when a game is on), there’s a massive TV inside.
Main Course: Five Leaves. You can order off the menu with your eyes closed, and it’ll be exactly what you’re in the mood for. Bonus: The cocktails-only lounge recently opened across the street.
Next Level: Join an impromptu pickup card game and perhaps do a magic trick or two (watch this craft beer disappear) at Spritzenhaus’s outdoor picnic tables (33 Nassau Avenue, between Dobbin and Guernsey Streets; 347-987-4632).

Lincoln SquareDeAnna J., copy editor
Warm Up: Eat Jalapeño’s addictive avocado fries. Debate movie options over a fully loaded DBGB dog at Epicerie Boulud, then fill pockets with from-scratch salty caramels before moving on.
Main Course: Head underground to indie Lincoln Plaza Cinema for a bucket of popcorn and the best muffin case in town (yes, muffin case).
Next Level: Nightcap with a gingery El Diablo and a festival short film at XVI’s baroque living room in the sky, complete with fancy big screen.

LES/Alphabet City
Danielle B., market director
Warm Up: Never wait in line for a crummy cocktail. Skip the crowds of faux-speakeasy posers and head to Elsa’s for a Sazerac or old-fashioned.
Main Course: Share plates of high-spice Northern Thai at Zabb Elee. Informed diners know to order the larb kai, som tum kortmuar, and kana moo korb.
Next Level: Make a pit stop at Edi & the Wolf’s outdoor patio, and resist rubbing the moose head at Bedlam.


Williamsburg (East)Janelle J., photo editor
Warm up: Pretend to be rich (without being poor afterward) at Le Barricou, where you’ll feel fancy with great French wine and garlicky escargot.
Main Course: Order cavatelli with broccoli rabe and sausage at the large yet charming Fiore, or anything — really, anything — from the grill at Qoo Robata.
Next Level: Hit The Commodore (366 Metropolitan Avenue, at Havemeyer Street; 718-218-7632) for frozen mojitos, crunchy fried chicken, and hours of dancing to music piped from an old re-rigged jukebox.

Adrienne's Pizzabar, 54 Stone St., Manhattan

It is important to me to see fireworks on the 4th of July, but apparently not THAT important, since I have not gone 2 years in a row (and 3 years ago we tried but failed, because NPR gave us the wrong start time, about which I am still bitter, it seems). This year we were daunted by hints that finding a good spot along the Hudson would be a hassle, plus my breadwinning husband had to get up extra early the next morning.

Rather than battling crowds, we went out for dinner at Adrienne's Pizzabar in the Financial District, sitting outside on Stone Street, which was very pleasant. Pat had manicotti which he found to be a great bargain, and I had a quattro formaggi pizza that was delicious, and I only made it through half of it, providing my beloved leftovers. This place is very close to us; it is well worth returning.

Then we moseyed home and watched the fireworks on TV, which plain sucked. The station had this large "lit fireworks" graphic on the top right of the screen that drew your eye away from anything they were showing, plus the fireworks looked so lackluster on the screen, plus some of the music was nauseating. I rather loathe myself for settling for this and pledge to see them in person next year, although odds are good I pledged the same thing last year (I think we thought it would rain last year, which is why we stayed home). But this year it is in writing. Someone hold me to it, please!

Il Corallo Trattoria, 172-176 Prince St., Manhattan

Pat said to me this morning, "remember when we used to do nothing all day?" He was referring to the first six or so months of our relationship. We really did live suspended in time for a while, luxuriating in languor, accomplishing nothing productive (at least on weekends!). Ah, it was good.

So today I placed aside any ambitions I had harbored (my resume, my name-change paperwork, the thank-you notes) and relived it. We did motivate ourselves to leave the house around 4:00 - we did some shopping in NoHo and SoHo, fully in line with self-indulgence. I wanted to check out a shoe store I had walked past in a hurry a few days prior, called United Nude. The shoes are mesmerizing. I covet them. Then while Pat was in the Apple store, I cruelly led on the salespeople in the Glory Chen shoe store, trying on $525 pairs of shoes and acting as if I might seriously purchase them. I am sure I do not need to explain that they were strictly fabulous, but it may come as a surprise (it surprised me) that they were also very comfortable.

We wandered at random in search of dinner, and landed on Il Corallo Trattoria, in SoHo. It has an enormous menu of pastas and some pizzas too. Scarcely had we placed our pasta orders (black seafood ravioli for me, with a tomato cream sauce) when they appeared before us all steaming and hearty. And it was plenty good for the very cheap prices.

Dessert was a bust, however. We spied delicious-looking cookies in the window of a bakery called Birdbath (160 Prince St.). I got a coconut one which turned out to be way too fibrous, and Pat's chocolate chip cookie had a weird taste. How could such great-looking cookies be so disappointing when consumed? Ugh.

Izzy & Nat's, 311 S. End Ave., Manhattan

I wrote about this Battery Park City place before, but then it was called Dizzy Izzy's. The name change combined with the fact that I had a splendid bagel today prompted me to give it a new entry.

I have noted before that I am no bagel connoisseur. Today, however, my toasted sesame bagel with cheddar-jalapeno cream cheese seemed way above and beyond your standard bagel. The divine textures, the flavors (not spicy, BTW)....could it be that New York is making a bagelophile out of me?

And afterward I went back to another scene of previous culinary enjoyment, the Shake Shack, for a chocolate shake. The caramel shake of a previous visit was better, in my judgment. But I LOVED being the only person, at lunchtime, to take the C-Line (cold foods only) option, thereby bypassing a line around the block, and absconding with my shake in a mere few minutes. Well, in truth, I felt guilty about it. Probably there were people in the long line who would have assaulted me if I'd lingered long enough to catch their eye. But that is why the C-Line was set up. I was merely following the game plan. I need to get over the guilt.

I learned some very sad news today. The wife of a former co-worker of mine died, at age 39. I did not know her well but spent time with her while watching company softball games and at other social events, and I am weighed down by the consciousness that the world lost someone who truly improved it. It is a smothering sadness.

Pescatore, 955 2nd Ave., Manhattan

Benefiting from yet another FoodieRegistry.com gift certificate, this one from my college roomie Michelle and her family, Pat and I went to Pescatore in East Midtown last night. The place was hoppin'!

I had the Sicilian seafood couscous, with a wide variety of seafoods, and the flavor was great. I liked that it was ringed with clams and mussels in their shells. The shrimps were overdone, but the other elements were perfectly cooked. Pat had the salmon ala plancha, which was good and came with some interesting gnocchi. And we topped it all off with a satisfying order of tiramisu. We also each enjoyed a glass of wine, and in fiddling recklessly with the dessert menus, I spilled Pat's wine on his pants. He was very forbearing about this incident, which I appreciated. I tried to look on the bright side, noting that I believed this to be the first time I had spilled something on him, despite spilling things on myself constantly.

The diners seated next to us were amusing. On my left was a man who went on and on to his companion about the negative impact of austerity measures in some country whose name we did not catch; it reminded me of the type of conversation you would typically be subjected to in Washington. On my right was a couple with a baby and the baby's grandfather. The baby was extremely well-behaved but after they fed him they wanted him to go to sleep in his stroller, and he was clearly awake and eager to continue to be part of the conversation. It was funny.

I have had some work to do this week (yes, yes, I still occasionally draw a meager paycheck) and I didn't leave the house at all on Tuesday, so yesterday I dropped everything at 2:00 and went to Central Park. I took the subway allll the way to the top (110th St.) and explored some of the parts above 90th St., including the conservatory garden, which is nice, but not exceptionally nice. I saw a woodpecker and a small waterfall, and lay down on the grass for a while, marveling at the beautiful weather. It was bliss.

Cienfuegos, 95 Avenue A, Manhattan

I knew I had to go to Cienfuegos after Pat and I had been to one of the two bars downstairs, Amor Y Amargo, with which it shares a kitchen. For one thing, there was the delicious flan we had tasted earlier; for another thing, the Yelp reviews spoke of rum punchbowls that would knock your socks off. I was like a moth to a flame.

And so it was that we found ourselves ensconced in dramatic chairs at Cienfuegos, in the East Village, admiring the brilliant turquoise walls and chandeliers, a re-creation of Cuba at, presumably, its best.

The waitstaff was funny and helpful and personable. The food was very good - we really liked the croque cangrejo appetizers (fried balls of crabmeat), and we got to sample all the sandwiches, all of which were appealing. We obviously ordered the flan but this time the syrup on top was slightly burned and that was a disappointment.

The punch was great! There were many many options, but we settled on the North Mississippi variety, in a bowl to serve two. It was delicious - not too sweet - and plenty alcoholic, leaving us tipsy but still highly functional. Perfection.

The next destination for our tipsy selves that night was the Lakeside Lounge, where the Ks were playing. The Ks are my new friend Dan's band. I loved that the Lakeside Lounge is a dive, and we enjoyed the band. As a facsimile of a musician myself, I like seeing other reasonably ordinary - even geeky! - people exercising their right to be rock stars. The Ks take it to a higher level than my own band, of course, in the sense that they actually sound good and someone has condoned them playing in a bar, but our kinship is nonetheless there.

Tomato & Basil, 226 4th Ave., Brooklyn

When Pat was out of town last week and I was lonely and bored, I made many plans for us for this week when he would be back. He accused me of "overscheduling" us, but we are New Yorkers, damn it, and we must go out and have some fun.

Last night's fun was a comedy show called "Mr. Coconuts," at Union Hall in Park Slope. This was recommended by my friend Ann, who is a fan of Mr. Coconuts' blog. There were five comedians including the host, and for the most part they were genuinely funny. We arrived a little later than planned so we had to sit in the second row, and Pat was nervous about being the butt of any jokes, but the hipster sitting next to him pointed out that we were safe because the first row featured three old ladies who were clearly comedic material. They started giving each other uneasy and disapproving glances as soon as the second comedian began joking about being gay, and after his set they left, saying to the host, "bedtime for us!" After that the jokes about them were merciless, obviously, and just lucky for them that they were not there to hear them.

We were late because Pat had come from a work function and we still needed a bite before the show, so we went to Tomato & Basil pizzeria, right above the Union St. subway stop. We each had 2 slices; mine were the Grandma Slice and a tomato and mozzarella slice. The first was quite good and the latter was excellent, with a lovely crisp crust.

Bon Chon Chicken, 104 John St., Manhattan

Having resolved to never again eat out alone, I turned last night to my trusty sidekick SeamlessWeb for some fried chicken and french fries from Bon Chon on John, in the Financial District.

The chicken was crispy and had a delicious sauce on it. The fries were plentiful and good. I was happy. Delivery was under 45 minutes, from half a mile away.

Today I made my first-ever trip to Queens. My friends Adriana and Todd, whom I know from Washington, were passing through New York with their kids on their way from their home in North Carolina to vacation in Italy. They have several New York friends so a gathering was designed at the Sunnyside home of their friend Dan, an artist and musician with a broken ankle and a heart of gold. Well, a broken ankle, anyway. I just met him so I can't vouch for his heart, but it sounded poetic, didn't it?

Queens apparently has great restaurants but I was not there to taste the local fare; I was there to see old friends and insist that my old friends' friends (Dan, Sophie and Jack) become my friends too. Before I even met them, I invited them to the party Pat and I are throwing on July 9.

The reunion/friend-conscription was fun. Bagels and sausages were consumed. A walk was made to a park and children were drenched under sprinklers. Songs were sung and pictures were taken.

Delmonico's, 56 Beaver St., Manhattan

I hate going to a restaurant by myself. I feel very self-conscious and lonely even when it is a good experience. I am going to stop torturing myself thusly in the future.

Meanwhile I gave it a whirl tonight. A month or so I got a free $25 gift certificate from restaurants.com when I bought some contact lenses (I know, random) and I thought, as if I had never been down this road before, "this would be perfect for some night when Pat is out of town but I still need to eat." So I chose Delmonico's, in the Financial District.

It was good. The staff was very nice to the self-conscious, lonely woman dining alone, and the filet mignon and creamed spinach were up to par. It turns out $25 does not go very far at Delmonico's, but at least it was really good and I have leftovers. I got so into the New Yorker story I was reading that I largely forgot how pathetic I felt.

But in the end, I miss my husband, and what am I trying to prove, dining out alone as if it doesn't bother me? It bothers me! So that's enough of that.

A Spice Route, 88 Fulton St., Manhattan

Pat proposed Indian last night so we ordered from A Spice Route, in the Financial District, via SeamlessWeb. It was decent. The chicken vindaloo, despite being ordered "medium spicy," was a little too fiery, and its pieces of chicken were on the dry side, but the sauce had a nice taste. The chicken tikka masala tasted perhaps a little too chickeny and not really Indian-y enough, but it was pleasant. And we got a lot of nice jasmine rice; we only finished half the rice and will be enjoying the leftovers today, which I always appreciate. The restaurant is a half mile from our home and the delvery was wonderfully quick - 25 minutes.

The Standard Grill, 848 Washington St., Manhattan

Making the most of every last sweet drop of Matt's unemployment before it dries up later this month, we met this morning to walk the new part of the High Line. It is just great. As with the last time I was there, I knew the experience would be likeable in the way that a visit to a pleasant place is likeable, but I was again surpised to realize that it does go above and beyond that. It is a legitimate destination just to admire the design. It also turns out that Matt is something of a botany expert. Who knew?

Our aim was for lunch and a beer afterward at the Standard Hotel's beer garden, in Chelsea, but we were informed it does not open until 4:00. So we enjoyed lunch at the grill instead. I had an "almost Cubano sandwich" that was very good, if a little bland, and an unhealthy quantity of the fries that came with Matt's lobster roll (reportely very good as well).

But what I will most remember are the humorous minor, yet plentiful, waitstaff mishaps. From the moment we sat down, our amiable waiter was returning to the kitchen a salmon dish he had served to a customer next to us, and we then were witness to salads being brought to us in error, a waiter on the verge of removing my not-yet-finished Standard 69 cocktail (which was, by the way, luscious), water droplets spattering everywhere when a bottle was placed on our table, and finally a coffee being brought to us in error (by a different waiter than the wayward salad man). I may even be forgetting some other foibles. We were good-spirited about it all and had a good laugh or five, but it was remarkable.

I was not intellectually equal to the challenge of determining which side of the restroom, curtained down the middle, was men and which was women. I stood at the curtain and looked wildly around for some clue and saw none, and a man washing his hands took pity and pointed me to the left. Thinking I must have overlooked some signage, on the way out I paused and searched again, and again came up empty. Matt informed me on my return to the table that the designations are actually on the floor. Sneaky. Very sneaky, Standard.

Locanda Verde, 377 Greenwich St., Manhattan

It is with a heavy heart that I report the good news that my daytime partner in crime, Matt, shared with Pat and me last night: he has found a job. Our midday, weekday jaunts around New York's splendid restaurants and watering holes will come to an end on June 27. Not that we did it so many times, but still, the OPTION was always there.

Now I guess I'm just going to have to drink alone at 11:00 AM on a Tuesday. Just kidding. Actually Matt's news coincides nicely with my determination that I really should find a job of my own, darn it. I have started to reach a point where I would get to the end of the day and not only feel totally unproductive (expected) but also feel kind of disappointed, like I wished I had made better use of the time, somehow. If I am no longer going to revel in my laziness, then it is time to stop being so lazy.

We learned Matt's bittersweet news at Smith & Mills, a very small cocktail joint at 71 N. Moore St. in Tribeca. I had a Dark & Stormy and it made me plenty happy.

We went across the street to Locanda Verde for dinner, and despite their polite warning that we would have to wait a while for a table, the wait was not bad at all. We sat outside. The mixed fried seafood appetizer was outstanding, and the burrata was also delectable. Each of us had pasta entrees and each of us was very pleased with ours. Mine was "Grandmother's Ravioli" stuffed with a mix of pork and beef. The portions were modest but the appetizers helped to fill us up.

Luke's Lobster, 26 S. William St., Manhattan

You already know that Pat and I are obsessed with Luke's Lobster, but I'm making a new entry for it because they opened a new location, in the Financial District, just a couple blocks from our apartment only two days ago, and obviously we went, and obviously we will go over and over and over again. Our lobster roll worship knows no bounds.

We weren't quite sure where it was so we were hesitating on a street corner, and a passerby helpfully asked where we were going. My first reaction was chagrin because I thought "do I look like a tourist?" but then just as I got over that, I adopted skepticism because there was no way this samaritan would know where the brand-new Luke's Lobster was, but I asked him anyway. And lo and behold, he and his companion had JUST COME FROM LUKE'S, and they pointed us down the block, and as a bonus I got to pet their puppy too. Let that be a lesson to me about cynicism.

Being brand new, Luke's was practically empty! Pat and I are priding ourselves on being one of the first on the scene lately (see the post on Shake Shack). Trendsetters, we are. Now how do we prevent the word from leaking out? (You might argue that blogging about it is counterproductive, but then you would be vastly overestimating this blog's readership.)

Some restaurant & bar suggestions from Daily Candy

Daily Candy posted the following today and it seems like it has some good options:

http://www.dailycandy.com/new-york/article/104760/Editors-Neighborhood-Guides-Eat-and-Drink-Local
Our Editors Break Down Their Neighborhoods:
Friday Night Highlights

It’s Friday. We asked five of our editors to spill their ideal plans for tonight, without leaving their respective neighborhoods.

Crown Heights
Emily W., assistant editor
Warm Up: The gigantic rotating selection of craft beers on tap at Washington Commons never disappoints.
Main Course: Chicken enchiladas with mole from Chavella’s makes a strong case for Mexican.
Next Level: The best way to interrupt skee ball games at Franklin Park? A BLT from Dutch Boy Burger next door.

Fort Greene
Lauren L., editor
Warm Up: Order a raspberry pepper tequila or two at No. 7. Maybe a broccoli taco if things get crazy.
Main Course: Locanda Vini & Olii’s never-faltering Italian is worth the short walk to the edge of the neighborhood.
Next Level: Slink into Kif for the romantic outdoor tables and cushy couches in back. It’s Moroccan (no, not as in Mariah Carey’s child).

Hell’s Kitchen
Lauren B., editor
Warm Up: Sake and pork belly sliders spiked with Kochujang chili paste and scallions at Danji.
Main Course: Tehuitzingo Deli Grocery’s back window for pineapple-flecked roast pork al pastor and classic arroz con pollo. Wine down at cheese temples Casellula or Ardesia.
Next Level: Flights of house-infused rums and frothy cocktails at subterranean surf den Réunion (chased by late-night toasted marshmallows on Nutella toast).


Soho
Jay B., managing editor
Warm Up: The elevated garden at David Burke Kitchen gets you closer to the late-afternoon sun. The wine gets you closer to an awesome night.
Main Course: Smoked ricotta ravioli and monster peel-and-eat shrimp at The Dutch. You’ll need an extra napkin. Should you need a late-night dinner, try Blue Ribbon Brasserie.
Next Level: Imperial No. Nine’s garden for the caramel popcorn ice cream and the No. 7. Pegu Club to fight the crowds for a Penicillin (favorite cocktail in NYC, but not always on the menu).

West Village
Jordan B., New York editor
Warm Up: Highlands. Egg white-spiked whiskey sour or bubbly at the bar. Fat, mellow, buttery oysters if there’s an open table.
Main Course: Joseph Leonard (skate and cauliflower) or, with foresight, L’Artusi (garganelli with mushrooms).
Next Level: Pause at Empellón for a Por Que No, get weird at The Jane Hotel, or shoot the s*it and play shuffleboard at Fat Cat.

Shake Shack, 215 Murray St., Manhattan

Everyone will tell you the Shake Shack is a New York institution. "You'll wait in line for two hours," they'll say, "but it's worth it." As a barely employed New Yorker, during these glorious spring days of late, there was no reason for me not to brave the line. I do love a good milkshake.

Still, I couldn't bring myself to do it. There are a lot of other ways to occupy two free hours in New York. Also, we heard they opened a Shake Shack in Washington, which was just kind of an insult. What's the point of living here if you don't have exclusive access to the best of everything? Why should staid old Washington get in on the action just months after we left? Maybe Shake Shack is just not as cool as everyone insists. (We also heard that a Luke's Lobster opened in Washington, but I haven't been able to bring myself to google it to verify this potential outrage.)

But mere days ago, they opened a Shake Shack in Battery Park City, and Pat and I stumbled upon it in its infancy. Which is to say, the line is quite short. We plunged in. Each of us had a Shack Burger and a caramel milkshake, and Pat also got an order of fries. It was all very high quality. The fries were crispy and delicious. The shakes were the perfect consistency - thick yet slurpable - and the flavor was impeccable. The hamburgers and their buns and toppings were juicy and fresh. Both of us thought the Shack Sauce did not improve the burger; I found it excessively salty. It is interesting that they standardly cook their burgers to medium doneness, whereas Five Guys cooks them well-done, presumably to avoid any possibility of giving their customers food poisoning. The fact is, since I was a kid, I have liked a well-done or even an over-done burger. That is just the way I like them to taste. But I respect that Pat and others are pleased that Shake Shack presents a pinker alternative. That is just the way he likes his burgers to taste.

Now that I have experienced for myself what all the hoopla is about, I can still say I would not stand in a long line at Shake Shack, but I'd say it's worth a short wait. It is also encouraging that they have a separate line if you just want cold items.

Artisanal Fromagerie and Bistro, 2 Park Ave., Manhattan

Our friend Marti is a regular at Artisanal, in Murray Hill. She chose it for dinner on Saturday and secured us the single coveted table in the glorious "cheese cave," lined with refrigerated shelves of all the cheeses. In addition to chance for cheese-gazing, and the feeling of being superior to the other diners, the cheese cave also offers a quieter atmosphere than the main dining room. What did Marti have to do to get us this table? She told us, but I'll never repeat it.

The food was top notch. Pat had a gnocchi appetizer and Marti had a dazzlingly attractive salad. I had the tender and juicy "chicken under a brick" entree. I am not a lamb fan, but the looks of Pat's lamb dish made even me want to sink my teeth into it. Marti had a steak that I can vouch was good because she put her leftovers in with mine and I enjoyed them the next day. Her fries were very seductive, too.

Dessert was where we really got down to the task at hand: cheese. We consulted the restaurant's cheese expert (I forget the exact title - fromagier, perhaps?). He came off as a little recalcitrant at first but did open up a bit and we ended up with a selection of five cheeses. First was Nettle Meadow Kunik, a creamy goat and cow blend from New York, with a little tang and a lot of butteriness. Then there was the stronger Truffle Tremor, from California. The Ossau-Iraty, from France was perhaps most conducive to picking up off the plate and popping directly into one's eager mouth. The gooey Epoisses, from France, was very pleasing, and we finished with the no-holds-barred Roaring Forties Blue, from Australia. The fromagier (or whatever he is) paired these with bread, apple, and pear. It was a great finish to a great meal.

Pera Mediterranean Brasserie, 303 Madison Ave., Manhattan

When Pat and I got hitched, one of the places we registered was www.foodieregistry.com. It was practically tailor-made for two people who a) already got rid of vast quantities of stuff when we moved to New York, and STILL have more things than places to put them, and b) eat out constantly in the Big Apple.

My lovely friends Kirsten and Matt gave us a certificate to Pera Mediterranean Brasserie, in Midtown. Our meze sampler had lots of intriguing options, like a spicy beef tartar, fresh-tasting stuffed grape leaves, and a flavorful fish spread. My hanger steak entree was just what this carnivore had been hungering for (and the leftovers were just as satisfying the next day in a wrap with spinach and cheese). Pat found some elements of his mixed grilled meats (heavy on lamb, for which he is a fiend) to be better than others.

I must protest a little about the drinks. Pat's cocktail should have been a hell of a lot more memorable for $14, and my little bottle of tonic water should not have cost $5.

E.A.T., 1064 Madison Ave., Manhattan

I have been an Alexander McQueen fan for many years, so Pat and I went to see the exhibit of his runway stuff at the Met on Monday. We waited about 45 minutes in line, a liability of coming on Memorial Day when the place was crawling with tourists.

I feel confident that the vast majority of people in line had no idea what to expect; probably many of them were in line just because they assumed there must be something cool at the end of such a long line. I feel particularly confident that the family behind us did not have well-hidden fashionista leanings. Sample conversations:

Father: "You're back so soon?"
Son: "Yeah I saw it [another exhibit] and I'm back."
Father: "What, you saw it already? How could you see it so quickly? What's wrong with you?"
Son: "I was there for like 30 minutes!"
Father: "That was no 30 minutes. You barely saw it. You can't have seen a thing."
Son: "I saw it!"

Son (on cell phone): "Mom, tell me EXACTLY WHERE YOU ARE...we are in the room past the paintings...Tell me EXACTLY WHERE YOU ARE, Mom....If you follow the line you'll see us. Dad will have his hand up....Mom, tell me EXACTLY WHERE YOU ARE."

Father (to mother, who has sat down): "Are you tired? You look tired. Are you bored? Are you hungry? Do your feet hurt?"

We endured 45 minutes of that sort of thing before we were rewarded with entry to the exhibit. I think the family behind us and all the other unsuspecting tourists were probably taken aback but not necessarily disappointed, because the Met did a great job of infusing drama into the exhibit - it was kind of like a runway show in itself.

There were dozens of outfits and they were unbelievably splendid. It's kind of like there is style, and then there is another dimension that represents something more ideal and fantastic, and that's where you find yourself in front of a McQueen ensemble. And then "style" just seems dismissably earthly, even though in real life no one goes around wearing antlers and dresses that look like a cross between a butterfly and a football uniform. But you WANT to.

We ambled around the Park for a while afterward and then went to E.A.T. on the Upper East Side for dinner. Pat had seen this place a couple days before and made the connection between it and Eli Zabar's grocery chain, and then it turned out E.A.T. was in the NFT bible as well. It is a cafe connected with a gourmet food store where the food did look very scrumptious.

I had the grilled stuffed salmon; Pat had the pot roast. Both were good, but overpriced. Not worth the respective $28 and $24 pricetags. Plus my salmon really had too much dill, and I'm not much of a dill fan. The breads were great.

Txikito, 240 9th Ave., Manhattan

Pat and I ventured last to Txikito, just two doors down from Company in Chelsea, where we dined the night before. We were totally and completely unaccompanied. You just have to believe me on this.

For two people by themselves, we ordered a hell of a lot of tapas, and it was all quite marvelous. We enjoyed foie gras, mushroom carpaccios, croquettes of cod, fried cippolini onions, some sort of crab stuff, and more. None of it was disappointing. My favorite was the veal jowl terrine. Cow cheeks! So decadently excellent!

Afterward, totally by ourselves, we hankered for some cocktails, and we took a cab to the East Village. We were gently turned away at Death & Co., but Amor Y Amargo, a couple doors down (443 E 6th St.) caught our eye and we squeezed in to the little space and were treated to some great cocktails. This place bills itself as a bitters tasting room. You wouldn't think two people could drink so much, but we sampled the house gin & tonic, a couple different versions of Negronis, a Manhattan with house-made vermouth, an a'l'ancienne, vermouth on draft, and other alcoholic treats. Before we departed, apparently because it was our two-week wedding anniversary, the friendly bartenders treated us to the most awesome flan, with a very brown-sugary quality. It was seriously wonderful.

Company, 230 9th Ave., Manhattan

Pat and I went to the High Line on a delightful summery afternoon yesterday. I had given it a quick inspection back in the wintery months, but it was a joy to see it all green, and recognize the genius of how the cement was laid into the greenery. It was clogged with people but I couldn't begrudge them the pleasure we experienced. When we got to the end, at 20th St., we learned that it will actually be extended to be twice as long in June.

We had dinner afterward at Company (Co.), in Chelsea, an NFT recommendation. We started with a mouthwatering veal meatball appetizer with many beefy slices of bread; this could have sufficed as an entree. The pizzas were darned good as well. I had the Boscaiola, with pepper flakes, caramelized onions, aged mozzarella and sausage. Pat was not 100% happy with his "ham & cheese" pizza, with slices of prosciutto laid across the top; he thought the slices should have been cut up more but I'd have been unfazed.

My ginger lime soda was spicy and tasty; Pat's Six Point draft was delicious but pricey: $8!

The Breslin, 16 W. 29th St., Manhattan

Today I enjoyed another long lunch with my fellow Real Housewife of New York City, Matt. What could be more perfect than an entertaining friend who is free for weekday outings? Yayyyy! Er, what I mean is, I hope you get a job soon, Matt!

We went to the Breslin, at the Ace Hotel in the Flatiron district. I noted that as with our last lunch date, Matt had suggested a location very heavy on the cow decor. But it is a very appealing space. I had a great refreshing cocktail called "Lust for Life," and Matt drank his 2011 summer staple, Campari with soda.

The food was really great. We started with a bowl of mussels and chorizo in a delicious broth with bread to soak it up. It had sounded good, but was even better than I anticipated. Matt got a softshell crab sandwich with decadent fries, and I had a veal sandwich with roasted potatoes. Really satisfyingly tasty.

Portions weren't huge, but that just set us up for dessert. We went to Matt's go-to cupcake place, Buttercup Bake Shop, 973 2nd Ave. We are not really into doing things halfway so we ordered four of them and shared: hummingbird, lemon, red velvet, and German chocolate. The best was hummingbird. It was just lovely. German chocolate was also a winner, and lemon had a great tangy flavor, although it and red velvet were a little too dry (cakey, as Matt characterized it).

Hudson Square Exchange, 333 Hudson St., Manhattan

I have a dearth of New York friends; it's quite sad. So I did a web search for various groups or clubs I might join to meet some people. I was elated when I found a group called Silly Drunken Board Games!

I was really, really excited about this so I dolled myself up and walked all the way to Hudson Square Exchange in the West Village. It was such a gorgeous day! And I felt as green to New York as the first day I got here 3 months ago, marveling at where I was. Ahhhh.

The silly drunken board game players were, on the whole, a good bunch. I talked for a while with a kid Ben who is a reformed vegetarian ("I was vegetarian my whole life until about four years ago when a waiter said that adding chicken to your salad was a half-price special"....awesome!) and a dancer (contra, tango). There was a woman named Victoria who seemed very laid back but then turned out to be a smoker - who wants smoker friends? A freelance copy editor named Sadie was amusing but not my type, and I didn't get to have a conversation with Rachel, the host, who seemed really nice. A securities and exchange lawyer, Doug, was kind of excessively intense, and Linda didn't seem to have much of a sense of humor. Jennifer partnered with me for Scrabble and was way better at it than me, but I didn't get much of a sense of her personality. Manuel, from Spain, was nice, as was Roshan.

I would go again. Might bring my own board game because I feel like we had too many large-group games underway, and smaller groups would have offered a better opportunity for me to befriend people, which is obviously in everyone's best interests.

Oh I almost forgot to describe the restaurant. It was surprisingly quiet for happy hour; perhaps there are not a lot of offices around there? I ordered a burger and did not like it. It was a little too uniformly textured, and the taste was kind of odd. Also, I was supposed to get truffle fries, and I am pretty sure they were just regular fries, although they were perfectly good.

Inatteso Pizzabar Casano, 28-30 West St., Manhattan

I don't know how I lived so long without SeamlessWeb, back in the dark ages before our move to NYC. I can't believe I used to have a file folder - yes, an actual manila folder - labeled "Delivery" and I would put actual paper delivery menus in it and then leaf through them when I needed food in Washington. Which, by the way, was such a rarity, because not a lot of places delivered to my 'hood anyway, and back then I used to....cook. I know. I know. Take a minute to let it sink in.

To be honest, last week I started to rediscover cooking, though it makes me feel like less of a New Yorker to admit it. On our way back from our mini-moon, we stopped at a Shop Rite in Perth Amboy, and we bought ingredients. Then I baked bread and cooked some pork in the slow cooker, and made my ghetto fake-crabmeat-mayo-and-french-dressing pasta dish. We have feasted on sandwiches and wraps and ghetto pasta. It has been healthy and economical and even pleasurable, and it fills me with urban shame.

But it's not like I have kicked my restaurant habit, or my SeamlessWeb habit. Last night we ordered from Inatteso Pizzabar in Battery Park City. In under 40 minutes we were treated to a large margherita pizza with added mushrooms, and we thought it was terrific. Four thumbs up.

There is a new little hurdle for our delivery people: our building is being staked out by the media. While future generations will no doubt view this as the least interesting non-story ever, and in fact I find it that way myself right now, apparently plenty of people out there can't get enough news about the French head of the IMF who resigned after being accused of sexually assaulting a hotel housekeeper. The guy posted bail and is now staying temporarily in our apartment building. 24 hours a day, bored-looking reporters and photographers linger outside the front and back entries, shining bright lights on the doors and yearning for this non-celebrity to emerge. Let's just say he doesn't go out a lot. Anyway there are extra security guards and police officers posted so it must be a bit intimidating for a delivery person, although maybe they see this all the time in New York. Imagine if a genuine celebrity were staying here!

Dizzy Izzy's New York Bagels, 185 Varick St., Manhattan

Somehow Pat, who loves a New York bagel, had been here for almost 3 months without sinking his teeth into one. So we moseyed down to Dizzy Izzy's in Battery Park City on Sunday and each of us enjoyed a toasted sesame seed bagel, mine with salmon spread and Pat's with regular cream cheese. We were very pleased. Pat was overwhelmed by the quantity of cream cheese, but I say bring it on, bagel babies.

Nu Sushi, 76 Pearl St., Manhattan

Another rainy New York day, another SeamlessWeb order. Pat asked if I had ordered before from Nu Sushi, in the Financial District, and I confessed that as with recipes, even when I find restaurants I like, I am nonetheless compelled to try new ones anyway. What if there's a better one out there?

But I chose very well this time, and will need to return! My New Roll (tuna, avocado, eel) was outstanding, with great quality fish and avocado. My mouth waters just at the memory of eating it last night. Likewise, my piece of yellowtail sushi was out of this world - a perfect, delicious, huge slab of fish with just a hint of wasabi over the rice. Mmmmmm. Pat's California Roll was nothing special, although it was quite sizeable. And the best part - it arrived in less than 20 minutes! We're about half a mile from the restaurant.

I wonder if the size of the yellowtail was related to how late it was (almost 9:00 PM) - perhaps they had sushi to unload at the end of the day. This seems like it could be a tasty formula to remember, if I can wait that long to get dinner.

Popover Cafe, 551 Amsterdam Ave., Manhattan

Obviously you want to hear about the popovers. But first, I have to tell you that Pat and I got married. It was the best fun! I recommend it to anyone.



But let's talk popovers (or Yorkshire puddings, as my kin the Brits refer to them). I was excited that there was a cafe devoted to them, but it was just so-so. We're talking about Popover Cafe on the Upper West Side. I had one big ol' popover with strawberry butter, and a bowl of chicken noodle soup, and a mug of hot chocolate that really should have been bigger and sweeter for the $5 pricetag. My popover kind of failed to thrill, which is odd for a place that is all about popovers, right?

Oh well. The important thing is that now I am married.

Soma By Nature, 123 William St., Manhattan

I went on SeamlessWeb last night with an eye toward sushi. Soma By Nature, in the Financial District, was very highly rated and offered sushi, but my eye was caught by a user review that was very positive on a dish called the Emperor's Rice Cake Stew (dapoki, this user called it). So I took the plunge.

The dish was delicious and perfectly spicy. I am not familiar with Korean food so I don't know how typical were the fat, cylindrical rice cakes (about half an inch in diameter and 2-3 inches long). Chewy and sticky, they weren't my favorite part of the meal, but still perfectly good, and the meat and vegetables were lovely. I wish there had been more of them, proportionately, in the stew.

Bennie's Thai Cafe, 88 Fulton St., Manhattan

I ordered red curry with beef and bamboo shoots from Bennie's Thai Cafe in the Financial District, via SeamlessWeb, and found it pretty bland. Likewise with the spring rolls. Really not that much flavor to either of them. And that's really all I have to say on this matter.

Cascabel Taqueria, 1542 2nd Ave., Manhattan

You cannot get good Mexican food in England, according to my sister Amy, who is visiting from London. She has vowed to eat her weight in Mexican food during her stay, and we got la bola rolling with a trip to NFT-recommended Cascabel Taqueria on the Upper East Side. It was SO DELICIOUS. I had the carne asada tacos, which come in corn tortillas with creme fraiche, oyster mushrooms, and crispy onions. My tastebuds thrill at the recollection. Amy had the pollo chipotle tacos, a little spicy in a good way. We shared a huge dollop of lovely guacamole. We had a table outside on a perfect day, and laughed at the UESers' small, in-bred excuses for dogs walking by. We are thinking of returning 24 hours later because the experience was so pleasant.

We traipsed through Central Park a bit and then Amy was hell-bent on a red velvet cupcake, so we visited a place totally without a name on 72nd St. on the Upper West Side. Seriously, no name on the shop, no receipt, no name on the boxes....it was a whole bakery; why no name? In the end it doesn't matter, because our cupcakes were sub-par, on the dry side. Forgettable even if we did know the name.

Then we had drinks at Wine and Roses, 286 Columbus Avenue, then we went to a downscale bar whose name I didn't note, then I got another cupcake at Magnolia Bakery on Columbus. I liked it (red velvet, per Amy's influence) but it had a whipped cream frosting and I really prefer a heavy buttercream. That was dinner yesterday - two drinks bookended by cupcakes! It felt so good to put aside the wedding checklist and be self-indulgent for a day.

Ulysses, 95 Pearl St., Manhattan

When Pat got home from work yesterday, I was a little crazed from a day of wedding checklist activities, and so while we did not theoretically have time to spare for an evening out, we went out anyway. We walked in the direction of Stone St. and ended up in Ulysses, in the Financial District.

The fish aspect of my fish and chips was bland, but the chips aspect was right on the money: crispy, tasty. Pat had the "soft" lobster roll that left us still wondering what made it particularly soft. It too came with the satisfying fries but the sandwich itself featured a lot of filler, and too much dill for my taste. My St. Boltoph Town Brown Ale washed it all down nicely.

Ulysses' atmosphere was fine. It was sort of standardly tavern-like. Pat looked at the old lyrics sheets for Irish drinking songs adorning the walls and said he wished he and his friends had had those back in the day when they would knock back drinks and disturb other patrons with half-remembered verses about "spending all my tin on the ladies" etc.

Bubby's, 120 Hudson St., Manhattan

Brian and Becca came into town for the car show and chose Bubby's in Tribeca for dinner on Saturday.

I ordered the barbecue combination platter, and while they were out of one of the three meats, the remaining two were REALLY good. My sides were top-notch: broccoli with a dreamy cheese sauce, and creamed spinach. I got a Dark And Stormy to drink and it was great; I would have had a second (and possibly even a third!) but for the $12 price tag.

As we were eating, an enormous fiberglass cow was placed outside window right in front of our table, its rear haunches facing in at us. Humourous.

Brian and Becca told us the coconut cake was out of this world, and I tried a bite of Brian's: YUM. My own dessert, peanut butter and chocolate pie, was really good but far more peanutty than chocolately, unfortunately. It really needed a fudgy, half-inch layer of chocolate under all that peanut creaminess.

It has to be said that the service was slow and haphazard. It was as if the several different staff who attended to us were all thinking of something entirely different. We were kicking back and enjoying the company so it wasn't really a problem, but it was certainly an area in need of improvement.

Champ's Deli, 71 Broadway, Manhattan

This deli is wickedly close to where we live in the Financial District, so I have tried it on a couple recent occasions.

The first time, I had a ham and fresh mozzarella panino, on focaccia with sundried tomatoes. It was really mouthwatering.

The second time, I used SeamlessWeb to order a small make-your-own spinach salad with chinese noodles, fresh mozzarella, broccoli, avocado, and Russian dressing. When I went to pick it up, they realized I had ordered at their other location (30 Broad St.) but said they'd bring it right over - and sure enough, it showed up about 3 minutes later! So A+ for service.

As for the salad itself, the application of dressing was very generous, which I liked, but I prefer spinach salads made with baby spinach - these were huge coarse leaves, which could also have been more finely chopped. And for an $1.00 each, they could have thrown in a bit more avocado and the mozzarella. Overall an okay choice, but not great.

Island Burgers & Shakes, 766 9th Ave., Manhattan

Pat had to drop off his car at the dealership in Hell's Kitchen last night, so we made dinner plans there. We started with the "world flight" of beers at Valhalla, 815 9th Ave. There were a variety of 5 small tasty beers from Belgium, Germany, America, and elsewhere. We were very pleased. The bar was a little loud as it was happy hour, but we had a table to ourselves. I looked around and said "look at all these people with their friends!" and we laughed ruefully as we have not exactly spread our social butterfly wings here yet. Fortunately for us, we're still in that phase of coupledom where we find each other's company entirely fulfilling.

After our drinks we went to Island Burgers & Shakes, where the shakes were terrible! Pat's was vanilla and mine chocolate and both arrived at our table melted. Pat flagged his concern to a waiter and got a new one, exactly like first one.

The burgers were decent, though. Mine was Derrick's Burger, with pesto and a lotta spice that sort of overwhelmed me till I got used to it. Its ciabatta roll was probably a poor choice as it was a little too chewy. Pat got the Route 66 Burger, with bacon and avocado on rye bread.

On an entirely unrelated (fortunately) note, Pat and I have been dismayed by how much the subway stops smell like urine. How much urine must be there for the smell to be so powerful? I theorized that perhaps people are peeing onto the air vents at street level so the smell just gets circulated constantly underground. However it happens, it is truly repulsive. Pat remarked how quickly you can go from marvelling at all that is dazzling about New York to marvelling at some of its seedier features.

Also strictly unrelatedly, I have now met our neighbors in 2 apartments. Across the hall from us are Emily and Kim, who do not live there but use the apartment as an office. They showed it to me - it has the most spectacular, huge half-circle window. They told me that the woman who used to live in our apartment (she also had theirs and used it as an office as they do) was a crazy Wiccan type who painted everything purple, red and black, and eventually departed owing several months' rent. The others I met were Heather and her boys, Nolan and Elliott. Last week, Pat noticed that each of the apartments in our hallway had a note under the door similar to the one we got: "I like you. From: Nolan. To: You." It was very cute. We left a note under their door in response: "Hi Nolan! Thank you for your note! We like you too. From Jennie and Pat."

Zaitzeff, 72 Nassau St., Manhattan

Yesterday featured fairly miserable New York weather, so Pat and I ordered from Seamless Web last night. We got kobe burgers and a side of mixed (regular and sweet potato) fries from Zaitzeff in the Financial District. The burgers were very good, and we liked the English-muffinesque buns. The mixed fries were decent. Our only critique was that the food could have been a little hotter, which was surprising given how fast it arrived (25 minutes).

We explored a very cool store - ABC Home. As soon as I walked in, I basically wanted everything, which is striking given the "I have way, way, way too much stuff and why are we all so materialistic?" tune I have been singing lately. The experience reinforced how little overlap there is in my and Pat's tastes, alas, but we enjoyed poking around. We thought we would come back after we have someday finished unpacking and setting everything up in our apartment and determined what we still need, although we'll probably still be loathe to contend with the steep prices!

We also went back to Luke's Lobster, for lunch. Aside from a delivery order Pat got from one of the restaurants we'd visited before, this represented the first time we have repeated at a restaurant. It was every bit as delightful as our first trip, the bread buttery, the lobster succulent.

Room Service, 690 9th Ave., Manhattan

Room Service, our first culinary pursuit in Hell's Kitchen, was a recommendation from Pat's father's friend Bill, and it was spot on. We waited about half an hour for a table and it was loud and the tables were close together, but oh! Those spicy basil noodles! They made my mouth happy with their flavor and their mixture of textures and their perfect spiceness. Perfect! The shrimp were cooked exactly right, and the noodles were soft and full of flavor, and it was all rounded out with some crisp vegetables and fried egg. It could not have been improved upon.

Pat's panang curry with chicken was also delicious, overall highly coconutty and with a drool-worthy drizzle of coconut on top. Pat is freaked out by the phenomenon of green beans in his panang curries in New York and can't decide whether to be heartened or dismayed at the hard-core veggies in his decadent curries. It does give you your daily greens.

I had a mango mojito and Pat had a coconut mojito. I liked them both but he wasn't wild about his.

Our appetizer was perhaps a misstep - mixed fried shrimp, mini-egg-rolls, balls of chicken and tofu sticks. Undistinguished.

Pat is 95% certain that Vanessa Williams, B-list celebrity these days, was sitting three tables down. I don't know what she looks like well enough to verify, but certainly the woman three tables down was very striking. And the place is cool enough, and the food good enough, that celebrities should make it a destination.

The prospect of the spicy basil noodle leftovers thrills me.

BLT Bar and Grill, 123 Washington St., Manhattan

Marc Fungard was the first of Pat's friends to descend upon NYC for the bachelor party tomorrow, so we went out to dinner with him at BLT Bar and Grill in the Financial District. This was another notch for me in the BLT bedpost (see earlier post about BLT Burger).

It is apparently new, and a very hip space. One nice touch was that sitting with our backs to the window on the 2nd level, we could look up at mirrors angled for a view down of the street.

Our waiter seemed a little skittish, perhaps new, but all our food was excellent. Pat had a lobster risotto; Marc and I each had the burger special, with different meats blended together and caramelized onion. My cocktail, the Saint Gin, was very delicious. The cheesecake was positively delightful, with a thin crunchy top and a tangy berry sauce. The profiteroles had a nice chocolate drizzle.

Max Restaurant, 181 Duane St., Manhattan

After Pat finished work, I met him at his office and we just wandered north and looked for something appealing for dinner. We found Max Restaurant in Tribeca. Our first pleasure of the evening was Delirium Tremens on tap.

The next was a prosciutto and mozzarella appetizer. The mozzarella....so FRESH!! Every bite was a brand new joy. Why isn't there mozzarella like that in Washington? What is it about New York that makes unbelievably fresh mozzarella a possibility that doesn't exist 200 miles south? It doesn't matter, does it - all that matters is that we have arrived in Mozzarellaville and we're not budging.

Our entrees were superb, for the price ($12 and $14). Pat had spaghetti with a lamb ragu sauce. At one point, after he had consumed every last noodle, I witnessed him dipping a piece of bread in the remaining sauce, tapping parmesan on top, and then spooning more sauce on top of that, then eating it. My ravioli with spinach and ricotta was in a perfect tomato sauce and let's just say there was no question as to whether I had finished, when I had finished.

We were on such a roll that I couldn't resist a dessert I wasn't even hungry for, and I'm not sorry at all about polishing off that tiramisu. It was a little gooier than traditional, but that probably only made it more tasty.

We'll be back.

Walkers, 16 N. Moore St., Manhattan

Guided as usual by NFT, we walked to Walkers in Tribeca. It was not, incidentally, on the corner NFT said it was on. Sometimes I have creeping doubts about NFT. Anyway, Pat knew vaguely where he was, pointing out restaurants and bars he had frequented with our friend Matt a couple weeks ago. Pat has become something of a Tribexpert. Ha ha ha!!

The layout of Walkers is odd. When we walked in it looked totally packed, but a waitress informed us that the host station was at the back. I elbowed my way there, passing a drunk gentleman who said "Hello, gorgeous," extended his hand, and introduced himself as Jeff. I kept moving. It turns out there are two rooms behind the bar, and Pat and I were seated immediately.

Our food was decent. I had a chicken sandwich with a very pleasing salsa and oozing cheese, and a side of mashed potatoes. Pat cobbled together a meal of seafood stew (lots of nice seafood), chili (nicely spicy), and fries (good, but too many remainder pieces). Jeff lurched past at some point, on his way to and from the restroom; he did not acknowledge our very special moment earlier. The waiter was nice. I have to say I did not find the food "surprisingly" good as NFT promised, but it was fine.

KoKo Asian Fusion, 120 Greenwich St., Manhattan

KoKo Asian Fusion, in the Financial District, is new. The decor is attractive, with swaths of decorative fabric, shades of yellow and red, some Asian pieces on display (a lacquer chest, a porcelain horse), and lots of backlighting. It was a little too quiet and too light, though, perhaps. These are the kinks of a new restaurant, along with things like an awkward arranging of the plates on the table (just set them down and leave, man!).

My egg roll was dry and uninteresting. My chicken pad thai was fine, but it did not taste like pad thai should - no sweetness. And what are little bits of cabbage doing in pad thai? On the other hand, Pat's Grand Marnier Shrimp (made, according to the menu, with condensed milk, oddly) was delicious. The sauce was lovely and the walnuts and broccoli were a nice accompaniment.

A particularly nice touch was included with our leftovers. It was a tidy ziploc bag with spoon and fork, napkin, sauces, and even a mint!

choices, choices!

Pat's co-worker Tasleem sent us an amazingly long list of her favorite New York restaurants, which I am pasting below so it will always be at my (and your) fingertips. This will also guide me as I start a wedding registry on http://www.foodieregistry.com/. I just heard about this and it's brilliant: we have too much stuff already in our little apartment, and we love eating out...so why not register for what we really need and want, which is restaurant gift certificates! Tasleem's list:

1. 3 Cups (east village cozy, low key, great pizza)
2. ABC Kitchen (very cool new Jean Georges)
3. Alta *tapas
4. Annisa
5. Apiary (contemp American - lower east side)
6. Babo
7. Babouche
8. Bao 111 *excellent Vietnamese, inexpensive, cute restaurant with character (east village)
9. Bar Blanc (west vill, trendy and good for small groups)
10. Bianca *cheap, excellent, must try Italian - one of my favorites off bleeker st
11. BLT Steak great meal - perfect for client dinner
12. Blue Hill (lovely and for foodies)
13. Blue Ribbon Bakery *fantastic brunch, west village
14. Blue Ribbon Brasserie (SOHO)
15. Blue Ribbon Sushi
16. Bond Street *beautiful restaurant, intimate but high end but delicious Japanese and cuban food
17. Brio (UES near bloomingdales - reasonable and yummy Italian)
18. Bukhara *Indian
19. Cafe Cluny (brunch)
20. Cafe Mogador *one of my favorites in the city - very reasonable French bistro, Moroccan food
21. Cafe Noir *wonderful, French/Moroccan in soho
22. Cesca - upper west side, delicious and an elegant restaurant!
23. Chennai *Indian, very affordable and best Indian vegetarian place I know
24. Commerce
25. Cook shop
26. Crispo *Italian, excellent value and food - midtown west side
27. DBGB (Daniel Boulud)
28. Del Posto
29. Dell'anima
30. Devi (great Indian good - Union Square)
31. Downing St
32. Elephant * great Thai but loud - east village
33. EN Japanese Brasserie (tribeca, Japanese - airy and lofty - very cool and yummy)
34. Ethos (greek by the UN)
35. Falai *unusual but high end Italian - small, east village
36. Fig and Olive *west village, trendy but good food and nice bar (again nice to bring people from out of town)
37. Fish (rustic, new England vibe - west village)
38. Frankie Spuntinos
39. Freemans *great brunch - understated but cheap and delicious!!
40. Gascogne
41. Geisha (60's and park - cool, trendy but great place for dinner - Japanese)
42. Gentleman Farmer (french, lower east side)
43. Gradisca
44. Holy Basil *excellent Thai, east village
45. I tre merli (west village location)
46. Il Buco
47. Il Mulino (expensive but SO good and generous portions)
48. Inoteca *excellent and unusual tapas, east village
49. Italianissimo Ristorante (on 84th between 1st and 2nd)
50. Jack's Luxury Oyster Bar (LES - cute and yummy)
51. Jo Jo (romantic, French, UES)
52. Jubilee (amazing and simple french food near the UN)
53. Juliet (more of a dinner club atmosphere - not good if you don't like a scene - the food is ok but the combo is nice)
54. Junoon
55. Kenmare
56. Kings Carriage House *upper east side - townhouse restaurant with superb brunch and high tea
57. La Caravelle
58. La Cote Basque
59. L'artusi (perfect place to bring family and friends - so good)
60. Le Bilbouquet *a European high brow scene but great French food - celebs often eat here but it's very small (not hard to get a table but might be a wait)
61. Le Colonial * great Vietnamese food, beautiful restaurant
62. Le Grenouille
63. Le Pere Pinard *excellent French food, east village
64. Le Refuge (UES - romantic or great ambience for a meal with family visiting - French food)
65. Le Tableau
66. L'ecole
67. Les Enfants Terrible *tiny, rustic, superb French food in the lower east side
68. Lombardi's (expensive but really good pizza)
69. L'Orange Bleu *French, Moroccan - lively and fun - good food
70. Lupa
71. Lyon
72. Macondo (LES, tapas - very cool)
73. Marea (expensive Italian but VERY good - central park south)
74. Max *great Italian in east village
75. Mercadito (East or West Vill)
76. Minetta Tavern (best black label burger!)
77. Momofuku Sambar
78. One *trendy but good food
79. Pane e Vino *nothing high brow but simple, affordable Italian near bloomingdales
80. Paradou *trendy but great French food (meatpacking)
81. Park Avenue (seasons)
82. Pasita (Venezuelan pizza west village)
83. Pearl Oyster Bar (best lobster roll ever)
84. Phillipe *high end Chinese - delicious - same chef as mr
85. Po *excellent Italian - intimate and elegant but very reasonable - great food
86. Raoul's *excellent French food in soho
87. Rayuela (lower east side - tapas)
88. Red Cat
89. Resto (brunch)
90. Savoy (soho/French and cute, romantic for dinner)
91. Setai - Sho Shaun Hergatt
92. Sofrito *latin food, very good - east village
93. Sparks
94. Stanton Social *trendy but good tapas - must make reservations far in advance - good for guests from out of town
95. STK *more of a scene but decent food and good NYC atmosphere when you have people in town
96. Strip House *favorite steakhouse in nyc - union square
97. Supper *inexpensive great food, east village
98. Table d'Hote (tiny, rustic - 92nd and mad - delicious/intimate - feels like you are in a cute town in france)
99. Tamarind Tea room (small cozy Indian sandwiches and soups - so cute in the winter time)
100. The Food Hall (Todd English restaurant at the Plaza Hotel - informal stations with different types of food - sit where you want but still has menus/waiters) - love it!!
101. The Smith (brunch)
102. Travertine
103. Tribeca Grill *perfect for client dinner and close to the office
104. Union Square Cafe (Italian)
105. Yuca Bar (casual, east village, so good/tapas)
106. Zucco