Ichiro, 165 Front St., Manhattan

Pat and I have only ourselves to blame for our appalling dinner from Ichiro, in the Financial District, tonight. We are always whining about how we can't find a good Thai place that delivers to us, and so we applied ourselves the internet for a new option, and Ichiro billed itself as an "Asian fusion" place. But it's not, is it? It is a Japanese place, and we were fools for ordering the Thai dishes. Fools!

Pat's pad thai did not taste like pad thai, and it had bell peppers in it, inexplicably. My red curry was simply not red curry! It actually wasn't bad, whatever it was - it was basically stir-fried vegetables. But I wanted red curry, and red curry I did not get.

The ordering itself was also an exercise in frustration. The online ordering function didn't work, so we called, and while she was very nice, the woman taking the order just was not up to the task of understanding English. (Side note: lest you should wonder whether this was why I didn't end up with red curry, that's not the explanation, as "red curry" was written on the order slip that came with my non-red-curry dish.) In particular, she was thrown for a loop when I told her the apartment number was 2J. I wondered if the Japanese language doesn't have a "j" sound, as German does not; I was referred to as "Chennie" for the nine months I spent in Austria.

Anyway, eating my non-red-curry in dismayed resignation, I looked on the web for Thai restaurants in Jersey City, and found a few highly-rated places within delivery or even walking distance, so hopefully we'll have better luck when we move across the river in a couple of weeks.

Burger Burger, 77 Pearl St., Manhattan

Pat picked up burgers for us yesterday from Burger Burger, in the Financial District. Mine was just a plain burger on brioche with a slice of tomato, to which I added my own avocado. It was fine. The fries, however, were excellent - crispy on the outside despite being quite long and fat.

Fino, 1 Wall Street Ct., Manhattan

Pat and I ordered from Fino a couple nights ago, armed with a 20% off Seamless coupon. It was a mixed bag. Both our entrees were big enough for two meals, which is a real plus, and they were good: Pat got veal and I got angel hair pasta with a tomato sauce and mixed seafood. The mixed seafood consists only of clams, mussels, and  squid, by the way. Surprising not to get any shrimp in there. But it was good.

The fried mozzarella appetizer turned out to be aged, not fresh, mozzarella, and it was not good. It was congealed and the breading was soggy.

Delivery time was as promised, around 40 minutes. I'm not sure we'd order from there again, given that it is a little pricey. Fino is in the Financial District.

Trinity Place, 115 Broadway, Manhattan

Trinity Place is just a couple blocks from us in the Financial District, and someone on the Herpes Mamas list recommended it. Pat and I went last night. The best thing about the place is that the bar through which you walk to get to the restaurant is an old bank vault, with ENORMOUS bank vault doors on either side. These are fantastic. The bar at 7:00 was raucous with libidinous Wall Streeters on the prowl for other libidinous Wall Streeters. We passed through the vault into the quiet restaurant.

Alas, the food was mediocre. We each had lobster bisque that was a little thin and lean on the lobster. My entree with duck confit and mushroom risotto was good, but nothing memorable, and a little too smoky for my taste in any case. Pat was similarly unremarkably placated by his gorgonzola ravioli.

We have decided to move, as outlined in my Jan. 9 post. We squirm when we think about trading in Manhattan for Jersey City, but I am going to have "4 minutes" tattooed onto my forehead, because that is only how far away Manhattan will be on the PATH train, which has a stop very close to our new apartment. 4 minutes is NOTHING! It will probably take me another 5 minutes just to wrap up this post! We have also pledged that we will take some of the vast amounts of money we'll be saving by making this move, and apply it to a regular (bi-weekly?) babysitter so that we will have nothing stopping us from making frequent 4-minute trips back in for a night on the town. We are not resigning ourselves to gaze longingly across the Hudson to our glittering former home (we are, however, looking forward to the OPPORTUNITY to gaze across the Hudson at the Manhattan skyline, a very nice feature of the new digs).

Crepes du Nord, 17 South William St., Manhattan

Aiming for something off the beaten path last night as we scanned Seamless, Pat and I went with crepes from Crepes du Nord. I got the eponymous Crepe du Nord (and let this mark the first time, I am certain, that I have ever actually used the word eponymous....how marvelous!). It had scrambled egg inside the buckwheat crepe, and smoked salmon draped on top (it also came with a little salad, which I of course ignored). It was really good, if not that hot by the time it got to me. Would try this place again, perhaps in person in the Financial District.

Stella, 213 Front St., Manhattan

It is always a danger to visit a place where you know a bunch of people and only tell some of them that you'll be there. This is what happened to our friend Marc, who made the mistake of posting on Facebook something about being in New York for a work trip, prompting others to be annoyed that he had not made an effort to see them.

But Pat and I are the golden friends whom Marc DID alert to his visit, so we got to have dinner with him at Stella, in the Financial District. I am feeling pretty superior about this favoritism.

I had fish and chips. It was fine, but maybe I should have chosen something less altogether fried. I don't know. The fried battered fish and the french fries really just left me with an impression of "fried." On the other hand, we ordered a mac and cheese side that was phenomenal. I know, I know, it is hard to go wrong with a mac and cheese side; one is rarely disappointed, but still this was really good even beyond the obviousness of it.

One note about the ambiance: it was late when we got there (close to 9:00), on a Tuesday, and there were not a lot patrons. It was nice because it was so quiet. But later a few people were kind of whooping it up at the bar and they turned the music up quite a bit and I was that stodgy annoyed person who must be like 75 years old.

Bobby Van's, 25 Broad St., Manhattan

Pat got a coupon for 20% off at Seamless on "cyber Monday," so we decided to splurge with Bobby Van's, in the Financial District.  I got lobster ravioli. They were okay, nothing remarkable. They came with a pile of spinach and a solitary rock shrimp, both of which were nice touches.

Pat got seared sesame tuna and said it was good. We also got a combo plate of deep-fried potato chips, zucchini sticks, and onion rings. The chips were the best.

Asian Fusion on Stone St., 11 Stone St., Manhattan

You learned from my last post that Pat and I have been on a fruitless hunt for top-notch Thai within delivery distance. I was once again underwhelmed by our delivery from Asian Fusion, in the Financial District, but Pat thought it was pretty good, and suggested that perhaps my tastebuds remain warped by pregnancy. It is possible.

In any case, I was looking for more of a sweet/sour taste from the pad thai with shrimp, although in all other respects in was fine. As far as the Pad See Eue with chicken, this hit the spot because it was ridiculously greasy, and the flavor was good. I (or the fetus?) was in the mood for grease. It is not something I look for frequently. I'm not sure where that leaves us.

22 Thai Cuisine, 22 Maiden Lane, Manhattan

The Financial District's 22 Thai Cuisine slide a menu under our door one day and we fell for the ploy, ordering from them via Seamless. We're always in search of that elusive, superior Thai restaurant. 22 Thai Cuisine is not it.

The Pad See Ew had an overpowering sauce flavored like soy sauce. The panang curry with chicken was blah.

I despair of ever finding that perfect Thai restaurant within delivery distance.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?).

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!

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.

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.)