Schiller’s Liquor Bar

131 Rivington St (b/w Norfolk St & Suffolk St)

Weekend brunch is a highly coveted activity for many New Yorkers. Thus, it is not uncommon to walk down any street in Manhattan on Saturday or Sunday afternoon with every Brunch spot packed to the brim. It is uncommon, however, to wait several hours for a table at the brunch spot of your choice—in my case it was Clinton Street Baking Company. I finally convinced InterSportsWriter to come down to the Lower East Side and meet me for a taste of their infamous pancakes only to learn the wait time was over 2 hours.

With his passport in hand (being from the Upper West Side), we walked 2 blocks south to Schiller’s Liquor Bar, owned by the same people as Pastis and Balthazar. The restaurant was nearing capacity when we arrived, but we had no trouble obtaining a table.

For our meals, we ordered the gorgonzola omelet w/ home potatoes and a sour cream & hazelnut waffle topped w/mixed berries.

The omelet was amazing (as many things with blue cheese usually are); the waffle, however, left me confused. There was no sour cream to speak of, and it was not until InterSportsWriter dissected it that the hazelnuts clumped together in the middle made themselves known. The maple syrup is made with bourbon, adding a nice change of pace to an otherwise standard waffle.

Overall, I was pleased. It’s hard to go wrong with an omelet featuring gorgonzola cheese as the main attraction or a waffle with alcoholic syrup for that matter.

One last thing worth nothing about Schiller’s Liquor Bar is the bathroom. It features a large communal wash basin reminiscent of a 50’s diner, which is probably what the owners intended.

Of the three, I still prefer Meatpacking’s Pastis, but Schiller’s is not a bad second.

DAMAGE ~ $30
VERDICT: Go

Trattoria Dell'Arte

900 7th Ave (b/w 56th St & 57th St)

Evenings of attempted Rush tickets to Wicked, a popular musical currently on Broadway, are typically followed by lavish dinners in and around midtown.

The formula for Rush tickets is simple: arrive at a certain time (usually 2 hours before the show), put your name in a basket, and hope you are 1 of 13 individuals called to purchase 2 tickets at a fraction of the cost for the same evening’s performance. Otherwise tickets start at $117 per person.

Last Thursday, chances of scoring discounted tickets were even slimmer as I was late getting off work, and InterSportsWriter was left to fend for the both of us. I arrived just in time to watch the lucky 13 collect their tickets, my evening companion not amongst them. I knew dinner reservations had been arranged should something like this happen (we are going on 0:6). 1 hour later, we were seated at Trattoria Dell'Arte, an Italian eatery located in Midtown West, 2 blocks from Central Park.

We started off with the 3 Vegetable Sampler: Brown Lentil & Corn Salad (plum tomato, thyme & balsamic vinegar); Sautéed Swiss Chard w/ roasted garlic; and Sicilian Eggplant Caponata (sweet & sour eggplant, plum tomato & olives). The appetizer was great (minus the eggplant which I was unable to digest due to a preexisting allergy). Still I sampled it and secretly cursed my stomach because I knew more than 2 bites would leave me curled up in a ball for the rest of the evening.

Next came the vegetarian pizza divided into 4 with each section featuring a different topping: artichoke, wild mushrooms, eggplant and peppers. I left the eggplant to my dining companion, saved the artichokes for later, and inhaled the mushroom and pepper squares. They were amazing.

The crust was thin and crunchy like a pita chip; the oblong-shaped pizza had just the right amount of sauce, cheese, and vegetables. Even for 2 people, it was enormous! It’s no surprise that it boxed up awkwardly and was not quite as amazing the following day. The crust was soggy, and my impatience got in the way of preparing it properly to obtain that unique crispness I experienced during the initial meal.

Dessert topped everything off with myself having the lemonata cheese cake and InterSportsWriter having chocolate ice cream. My selection was fantastic: creamy, dense, and lemony. My companion, however, was dissatisfied with his choice and left over half of it behind.

Besides their signature pizza and one expansive antipasto bar, the most obvious thing worth nothing about the midtown eatery is the décor. The walls are painted in soft pastels and covered in enormous sculptures of the—umm—body. From noses to breasts to butts, Trattoria Dell’Arte has it all. The unique decorations provide a nice topic of discussion should conversation lag.

The bottom line: go for the pizza, gawk at the décor, and avoid the chocolate.

DAMAGE ~$100+
VERDICT: Go