Dawat

210 E 58th Street

Recently, I have taken a love of Indian food. Looking back, it was inevitable. I am vegetarian and love spicy food, although my first few encounters with it did not favor to my fondness. But I kept trying. Or rather, my friends kept trying until they found me the perfect Indian place. I can tell you what that place is not—a Midtown East eatery called Dawat.

A restaurant’s atmosphere can make or break a dining experience. Dawat’s broke mine—twice.

The first time InterSportsWriter and I visited, we were seated next to an overtly loud woman with a noticeable Southern accent and what appeared to be her colleague who listened indifferently as she dominated the conversation. Usually, this is not bothersome except the place was empty.

The second time we visited, we were seated at the exact same table in the nearly empty restaurant, and once again the woman adjacent us dominated the conversation in unusually loud undertones. She did the majority of the talking in between taking numerous phone calls in front of her colleague; the only difference was she lacked the Southern accent of her predecessor. This time we asked to be moved, and fortunately the server granted our request immediately.

Regarding the food, we started with the following:

Onion Fritters (crisp light, chickpea flour batter dipped, onion fritters)

Vegetable Samosa (spicy seasoned potatoes and peas wrapped in light pastry)

We shared the Vegetarian Thali consisting of the following:

Farasvi Bhaji (green beans cooked w/ freshly grated coconut)
Saag Paneer (spinach puree w/ cubes of paneer cheese)
Gobhi Aloo (potatoes, cauliflower & Indian spices)
Sindhi Karhi (vegetarian stew made w/ chickpea flour & vegetables)
Pulao Rice (Indian rice)
Poori Breads (deep-fried puffed bread)
plus a variety of Chutneys & Relishes

I am obsessed with samosas and found theirs amazing. They were just right in terms of crispness on the outside and flavorful on the inside. The fritters, however, were slightly dry and bland in taste.

The entire main dish was wonderful. The Vegetarian Thali appears to be a small meal but is just right for 2 people without leftovers. My favorites included the saag paneer and the gobhi aloo. It’s hard to go wrong with either staple Indian dish, yet I still found myself craving more after they were finished.

The complementary papadum (thin crispy Indian wafers) served with a trio of chutneys at the start of the meal is a great way to wet your taste buds, but beware of where, or rather who, you are seated.

I have yet to visit India, but I imagine Dawat comes pretty close to the real thing. The owner, Madhur Jaffrey, is an Indian actress and food writer. If I worked in the area, perhaps I would order takeaway, but as far as a repeat visit in person, forget it. The outdated décor and older clientele who insist on taking personal calls at the table and practicing public speaking are too stuffy for my liking. The only thing “haute” about Dawat Haute Indian Cuisine was my blood pressure upon leaving.

DAMAGE ~$65
VERDICT: Pass

Mole

205 Allen St

Craving Mexican food one Sunday night, a friend suggested dinner at Vamos!, a Mexican eatery in Stuyvesant Town. Unfortunately, by the time we arrived at the late afternoon/early evening hour of 10p.m., the restaurant had closed; my cravings had not. So I interjected with a tiny eatery I spotted off the Lower East Side called Mole.

As soon as we arrived, we started off with tableside guacamole and “Crepas con Huitlacoche,” 2 homemade crepes with black corn mushroom in creamy poblano sauce.

For the main course, I ordered the “Chiles Rellenos,” 2 fire roasted poblano peppers stuffed with queso fresco and served in fire roasted tomato sauce.

I blocked out what my dining companion had because it contained meat.

The mushroom crepes appetizer was by far the tastiest plate. I was impressed, but then again, how often does an appetizer trump the main course? Is that even allowed? The guacamole dip was not bad, although mine is better.

I found the main dish slightly overkill—my peppers were literally swimming in tomato sauce. Maybe I ordered soup. It’s been a few weeks since I visited.

We also had a side of nopales asadas, or grilled cactus, which turned out to be the most disappointing item of the evening; dry and bland. We barely managed a couple bites between us, but only out of obligation to our wallets rather than our tongues.

What I remember most about the evening was biting into my poblano peppers to find a toothpick. The server explained the toothpick was inserted to hold the peppers in place during the preparation of the dish. Unfortunately, it was too late; my taste buds felt jaded and my stomach remained uneasy throughout the remainder of the meal.

Looking back, I’ve had dishes where toothpicks are added to hold everything together, but this particular one caught me off guard. I apologized to the server for assuming the worst, but it was still hard to convince myself the toothpick was intentional and necessary.

Although the service was good, I can’t say I’ll be back. The menu was not impressive enough to warrant a return; and the complimentary salsa was weak, somewhat of a deal breaker in the land of Mexican restaurants.


DAMAGE ~$80 (CASH ONLY)
VERDICT: Go

Bread Tribeca

301 Church St (b/w Walker St & White St)

A 24-hr visit to New York City is not complete without the staple Sunday Brunch. For this reason, I insisted CanseoTaris and I feast at the prime Brunch hour of 1pm, several hours before she had to catch a flight back to Texas.

We ended up at Bread Tribeca, not to be confused with Bread off Spring Street. Despite not having reservations on Mother’s Day, we were seated immediately. I ordered a latte; my companion asked for a chocolate potion of deliciousness…more on this later.

For the meals, CanseoTaris ordered a salmon dish, while I had their specialty for the day, the virgin frittata w/ goat cheese, arugula, and tomato. It was one of the only items on the menu I could order.

The frittata was good but not spectacular—is there such a thing when it comes to frittatas? CanseoTaris really enjoyed her dish. The side salad that came with the frittata was a nice touch to finish off the meal.

Looking back, I should have brought a tape recorder to remember exactly what CanseoTaris ordered to drink. Her request was vague, “I’d like something cold with chocolate.” The server completely understood and returned with something light, cold, and chocolaty. It was the perfect drink on a gorgeous Spring day.

The space was open and airy, reminding me of Montreal cafes. Service was on the slow side. I can’t say whether I’ll be back due to the limited Brunch menu, but I will never forget that amazing chocolate drink.


DAMAGE ~$54
VERDICT: Pass

The City Grill

269 Columbus Ave (b/w 72nd & 73rd)

Meh.

A word used to describe a recent visit to Upper West Side’s The City Grill. Scoping out the menu beforehand to ensure I had options, I agreed to meet my dining companion at the American eatery for dinner.

Side note: Menu investigation only works when I know where I'm eating in advance. Otherwise, expect a mild panic attack while I grapple with finding someone with phone internet.

It was through this initial research that I learned their fries were something to try. With a little help from the server, I ordered the artichoke and spinach cheese dip appetizer and a portabella mushroom sandwich with fries for my entree.

My companion had mushroom ravioli in a tomato cream sauce.

The fries lived up to their expectations. Everything else, however, was meh. Average. Bland. Blah. Normal. Not bad, not great, just average. I was not impressed by the overall quality.

The artichoke dip was decent but somewhat bland in taste. The starter bread basket was ok, although one of the rolls felt like I was tearing into rubber (are rolls supposed to be that hard?). I had a bite of the mushroom ravioli; it tasted undercooked. My companion had no qualms, so I’ll call it al dente.

We completed our evening with caffeine. I had an espresso macchiato; my companion, a regular cup of joe. Thank goodness the macchiato was fantastic. Next to dessert, I can’t think of a better way to complete a subpar meal but with a great cup of coffee. Unfortunately, the desserts (like the menu) looked unimpressive.

I only finished half my sandwich and took the rest home. Currently, it sits in my fridge enduring insults from my organic skim milk, feta cheese crumbles, and cage-free brown eggs labeling it “glorified diner fare.” Oh well. At least the prices were reasonable.


DAMAGE ~50
VERDICT: Pass

Puglia

189 Hester St

Have you ever been somewhere so bad that it’s good? That’s what happened during a recent visit to Little Italy’s Puglia. I made several fatal mistakes over the course of the evening, which ultimately killed the night and led to my worst dining experience thus far in New York City.

Mistake #1: Suggesting Little Italy for food. WHAT WAS I THINKING??? Can you say TOURIST TRAP CENTRAL? I won't compare it to the "food" (I use that term liberally) in Times Square, but it was a close second.

Mistake #2: Little Italy ≠ Pizza.
In our quest to find something relatively decent, my dining companion and I asked a restaurant host where to find the best pizza in Little Italy. He directed us across the street to Puglia.

He must have really hated us.

Mistake #3: Stepping foot inside Puglia. The décor was awful. Think communal seating, outdated décor, and a live keyboard player. The inside echoed, and there were several big groups making the entire place feel like an outdated bar rather than a restaurant. I asked the server how long the guy would play, and he assured me only a few songs. LIES I TELL YOU! He played on and off the rest of the evening.

Mistake #4: Staying. Had I not been so hungry, I would have left immediately.

I began the evening with a glass of white wine. Not only was it warm, it took forever to arrive.

Next came the appetizer of stuffed mushrooms, mediocre at best. I secretly prayed the food would get better. We followed the mushrooms with fried zucchini. I asked for a side of ranch dressing; the waiter brought bleu cheese instead. Barf! I might have thrown up in the bathroom had I not been cautioned about the conditions beforehand from my friend.

Last came the pizza. It was undercooked, raw, and doughy. The sign outside claiming “brick oven pizza” should have read “raw dough with toppings.” My companion and I barely finished half before asking for the check.

When I think back on the evening, I laugh. I’ve been to some pretty awful restaurants in the city, but nothing like this. If you want to ruin your evening, come to Puglia. If you’re craving pizza, walk a few blocks to Spring Street and eat at Lombardi’s.

DAMAGE ~50
VERDICT: Pass

Candle 79

154 E 79th St

For the record, anyone who is vegetarian automatically gets promoted to my new best friend. InterSportsWriter and I sealed our new best friendness at an Upper East Side vegetarian restaurant called Candle 79.

To get started, I ordered the PB&J smoothie and a glass of white wine.

For the entrees, my dining companion and I ordered the chickpea cake with mixed vegetables topped with almonds.

We also had the cornmeal crusted seitan served over mashed potatoes and spinach.

What is seitan? Seitan is made from wheat gluten and is used as a protein substitute for meat dissenters. It tastes better than it sounds—I think.

Seitan’s chewy texture did little for me and my tastebuds. The chickpea cake was not much better. Both entrees were somewhat bland in flavor. The fact that I preferred the mashed potatoes above all else says something about the meal. Maybe I’m just not a seitan/chickpea cake kind of person. In addition, the cake was dry.

Maybe it’s me, but the PB&J smoothie was also a disappointment. Once upon a time, I was in a serious relationship with my blender; my mornings and afternoons were not complete without some form of protein shake/smoothie. You can imagine my despair when I realized I could have made the exact same “PB&J” shake at home, only better, and not been $8 lighter.

The service was great on an early Thursday evening, and had I not been rushed to catch a boat (literally), I might have tried dessert. Sadly, this place will not get my business again.

The owners also have a sister restaurant called Candle Café, a vegan eatery of which I have not been and not sure I will. However, I will give them props for the inventive dishes. Chickpea cake…Who knew?

DAMAGE ~ 80
VERDICT: Pass

Smörgås Chef (Dinner)

283 W 12th St

I tried; I really did. I’m open minded. People and places deserve second chances, right?

Several weeks ago, I was contacted by the chef of the tiny Scandinavian restaurant, Smörgås Chef. He found my brunch review unfair and offered me a $50 gift card to try again.

Despite my reservations about revisiting the same place twice and my initial experience leading to the unfavorable review, I gave it another go. On a Friday evening, I invited DeeScreenWriter and a colleague to join me for dinner at the West Village eatery.

We were seated in a cozy booth shortly after we arrived. So far, so good. Then I glanced at the dinner menu and things started to get rough.

For the record, I don’t know the first thing about Scandinavian cuisine, nor have I visited the northern European region. However, I imagine there is more than rice and veggie burgers for vegetarians to eat.

Not at Smörgås Chef. Whereas, for brunch I had a plethora of options to choose from, for dinner I had 2; risotto with mushrooms, asparagus, and balsamic vinegar or a standard vegetarian burger. I chose the risotto.

There was nothing spectacular about my rice. I could easily have made it myself, which was disappointing considering the length the chef went to accommodate me. I do not recall what meat dishes my dinner companions ordered, but know they both enjoyed their entrees.

Pluses for the evening included the specialty cocktail I ordered (visually and tastefully stimulating) and the intimate atmosphere/décor, different from when I came during Sunday brunch.

For the three of us, the total bill came to around $80. After the gift card, we split the remaining $30 and paid separately. My colleague’s credit card was charged twice, but I later found out the server reversed the double charge. Apparently, he also believed in second chances.

I get that chefs take a lot of pride and enthusiasm in their restaurants; I take a lot of pride and enthusiasm in reviewing them. What I don’t get is why a chef would go thru the trouble to contact me and offer me to come back knowing I am vegetarian and expecting me to be thrilled the second time around. Oh, and the dust on the glass bottle décor I complained about in my initial review was still there.

Overall, Smörgås Chef is a cozy eatery, but the food leaves something to be desired.

In the meantime, I am re-examining my philosophy on second chances…

DAMAGE ~80
VERDICT: PASS

R Bar

218 Bowery

Is it possible to be angry at a bar? Not the bartender, not the doorman, not any particular person, just the bar itself? That is exactly what happened with R Bar and I on Friday night.

I was invited to the Lower East Side lounge to celebrate a mutual friend’s birthday. What I intended to be a semi-enjoyable evening turned out to be anything but. My first encounter with animosity came from the mandatory $2 coat check. Others have said it; now I will shout it:

IF YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE A COAT CHECK MANDATORY, MAKE SURE IT’S FREE!

I would rather be charged a $2 cover than have to pay a mandatory coat check fee. My initial reaction was to bolt. Unfortunately, because it was not my birthday, I stayed.

My second encounter with animosity came from the music. The DJ was awful, and I’m being nice. I cringe at the thought of the music as I type these words. He/she would play a good song, followed by three bad ones. There are poles but it doesn’t matter because the music kills any desire to dance. I’m usually pretty open when it comes to club music, but I actually found myself pissed off at the DJ. That has NEVER happened before.

The biggest deal breaker came from the crowd. I have not felt so much like a sardine since Thursday nights at Stingers during my university days. To get a picture of how packed it was, imagine Rockefeller Plaza 2 weeks before Christmas. Now replace the tourists with college students…

Highlights for the evening include the awesome wall décor (old rock star icons in black & white); the bartender recalling my current choice cocktail by heart (gin & tonic); and a couple interesting people I met throughout the evening, including the friendly bouncer who watched over our party of drunk and the random people who danced with me on my way out the door.

There are too many other great places in the area. Hold onto your coat and save your money on this one.


DAMAGE ~ $8-11/ avg. per drink
VERDICT: PASS

White Rabbit

145 E. Houston St

Saturday night, I found myself at a Lower East Side lounge called White Rabbit. I arrived at 10:30 to a half empty venue that filled to standing room only within a couple hours.

WestSideSurfer and I had not seen each other for many months and scored a comfy seat away from the main bar to catch up as much as the evening would allow.

The lounge was your average Manhattan size bar with plush seating lining the wall. My favorite part was the music. The DJ played many old school beats that I rarely hear nowadays. Because I am completely out of the music scene, I appreciated the familiar jams and even caught myself dancing to a few.

On the back wall, a projector displayed old episodes from In Living Color, something I have never seen in a bar. There are three bathrooms, so the wait was never more than a few minutes. White Rabbit also serves food, though I did not notice anyone eating.

I cannot quite put my finger on it, but something was off about the evening. Perhaps it was my watered down gin cocktails, the old In Living Color episodes (I have never watched a full episode in my life nor do I want to), or maybe the crowd (possibly BTCer’s). Whatever it was, the place definitely did not feel like other Lower East establishments in the area.

The coolest thing about White Rabbit is the name. I doubt I will return save for a networking event or something similar.


DAMAGE ~ $8-11/ avg. per drink
VERDICT: PASS

The Bean

49 1/2 1st Ave (@ 3rd St)

When I asked NYLawStudent to recommend a good place for tea in the East Village, I was hesitant when he suggested The Bean. Under the impression The Bean was more coffee than it was tea, I envisioned overpriced Lipton tea bags and bright lights but agreed to meet there anyway.

Upon seeing the vast tea menu, I was intrigued and enthused. I ordered a medium Ruby Slipper (blood orange and pear) and two overpriced pastries; NYLawStudent stuck with a latte.

As a tea aficionado, nothing particular stood out about my tea except for the color, a pinkish red resulting from the blood orange. However, my pastries were a different story.

The first pastry was a triple chocolate mousse cheesecake. It was soft and sweet without going overboard on the chocolate (despite the name).

The second pastry consisted of a chocolate teacup filled with vanilla custard and topped with mixed berries. By the time I worked my way down to the teacup part, I was stuffed and only managed a few bites of chocolate. Overall, I was pleased with my selections, but my wallet was not.

My initial reaction to The Bean was correct; it is more coffee than tea. That said, the vast tea menu is nothing to scoff at, and the pastries were very good. The medium-size internet cafe was filled with students writing papers, discussing midterms, and checking email. If I were a law student or undergrad, I could see myself enjoying the studious atmosphere. I am neither, so the place was not exactly my cup of tea (no pun intended).

I doubt I will visit The Bean again, partially due to the fact it is a chain (there are a couple locations in the city) and partially due to the expensive pastries starting at $7.


DAMAGE ~ $16
VERDICT: PASS

Smörgås Chef

283 W 12th St

Painted in yellow on a cute corner in West Village is a cute spot known as Smorgas Chef. Sir Fancy Pants chose the Scandinavian venue as it featured a reasonable pre-fixe Brunch menu.

We were seated immediately at a table for two near a brick wall separator. I got started with a café au lait and SFP, a Bloody Mary. For our meals, I ordered the Eggs Florentine with salad, and SFP had baked eggs with their version of hash browns.

Because I was not in the best of spirits when we visited, I barely touched my coffee and ate half of my meal. The entrée came with a mimosa, which I took a couple sips of before passing it over to SFP. Luckily, my stomach came around later in the afternoon and was pleased with the leftovers. SFP enjoyed his baked eggs, and his potatoes were very good from what I tried.

Despite the delicious food and the cute décor featuring funky light fixtures made of glass bottles, I cannot recommend Smorgas Chef. The brick wall separator to the left of me had literally an inch of caked on dust. As any true restaurateur can vouch, the little things matter just as much, if not more, than the big. The glass bottles scattered as artwork around the room looked as if they had not been cleaned in years. It frightens me to think of what the kitchen looked like.

The eatery has four locations around Manhattan, so no doubt you might stumble upon one someday. Enter at your own risk…


DAMAGE ~32
VERDICT: PASS

Diablo Royale

189 W 10th St
Picture this: me walking through West Village craving a Bloody Mary and Sir Fancy Pants, a Mimosa. Add a gorgeous Sunday afternoon, a Mexican eatery called Diablo Royale, no line, and you have my brunch experience last weekend.

Given that Mexican is my favorite cuisine ever, I could not resist stopping in for a quick bite and dragged SFP with me. We sat at the bar, ordered drinks, and decided to share one brunch entrée of my choosing.

I ordered the Huevos Rancheros—scrambled eggs with ranchero sauce, black beans, and sliced avocado over a crispy tortilla. I also asked for a side of chips and salsa and SFP ordered a side of bacon. Everything was good, but not spectacular.

It’s hard to go wrong with such a staple dish as huevos rancheros. What did stand out about the meal was the drinks. You know you’ve had a good Bloody Mary when your lips are on fire and your throat burns, yet still you continue to drink the spicy beverage because it is that good.

This was not the case at Diablo Royale. The Bloody Mary was good but nothing worth going back for. However, the Mexican hot chocolate I had at the end of the meal was noteworthy, something definitely worth having again. It was thick and had a slight kick to it. The tortilla chips were also very good but on the salty side.

The spot is cute and relaxed, but there is better Mexican to be had in the area.


DAMAGE ~36
VERDICT: PASS

No. 28

28 Carmine St

Got pizza? West Village does.

It is not my intention to scope out every pizza eatery in the Village; it just works out that way.

Sir Fancy Pants recommended No. 28, aka 28 Carmine, on Saturday night after I mentioned 60sBumbleBee and I nearly braved the lines at Grimaldi’s (supposedly the best pizza in the city) but decided against it due to the cold weather. No. 28 was closer and the wait was only 10 minutes.

SFP, 60sBumbleBee, and I were seated in front of the brick pizza oven and its master, away from the overcrowded main dining area. We ordered two 18” pizzas from the 19 combinations. SFP and 60sBumbleBee shared the Pizza Marinara with garlic, red chili peppers, anchovies, oregano, and cappers; I had the Pizza alle Patate with ricotta, potatoes, walnuts, and rosemary, which I also shared with my dining companions.

My pizza came on white crust pizza bread without tomato sauce because (as told by the waitress) the acidity of the sauce ruins the pizza. Potato as a pizza topping was a first for me, an interesting combination with the ricotta cheese and walnuts. It was good, but I would have preferred the crust to be crispier. SFP and 60sBumbleBee enjoyed both pizza selections.

No. 28 is a true Italian pizzeria. From the Italian flag over the entrance to the Italian speaking staff, you feel as if you are getting the real deal without actually traveling to Naples.

My biggest gripe about the restaurant was the cleanliness factor; my silverware and the brim of my wine glass were dirty. Unfortunately for No. 28, spotless utensils and drinking ware is a must, especially if you expect me to refer your establishment to my friends.


DAMAGE ~60 (CASH ONLY)
VERDICT: PASS

Extra Virgin

259 W 4th St

Saturday for brunch, Sir Fancy Pants, 60sBumbleBee, and I sat down in a West Village eatery called Extra Virgin. I picked the restaurant based on the location and several reviews I read on yelp.com claiming Extra Virgin as the best Brunch ever.

To get started, SFP and I ordered a Mimosa and a Bloody Mary respectively; 60sBumbleBee stuck with tea. For our main courses, SFP ordered baked eggs with a side of bacon; 60sBumbleBee ordered the omelet of the day, and I ordered the Virgin Frittata with goat cheese, tomato, arugula, and basil pesto.

The Virgin Frittata can best be described as a Greek style omelet. It was twice the size of a regular omelet and the texture reminded me of a quiche. I also ordered a side of Fries with Gorgonzola Fondue for the table.

I recently developed an addiction to blue cheese, and the fries with the gorgonzola dip were nothing short of amazing. Besides the Gorgonzola Fondue, nothing blew me away about Extra Virgin. My Bloody Mary was watery and weak; my Virgin Frittata was somewhat dry (I nearly asked for a side of Hollandaise sauce); and my café au lait was too watered down to be considered coffee. I was more excited about eating my meal for lunch the following day with my own olive oil and vinegar than I was while at Extra Virgin.

On the other hand, SFP and 60sBumbleBee loved their dishes. SFP was thrilled at the many strips of bacon that came on the side for only $5.00. Each plate ranged in price from $9-13, relatively cheap by West Village standards, and the portion sizes were quite big, almost to the point of overwhelming.

Although I was impressed by the Mediterranean influenced varied selection of Brunch dishes, the hype surrounding Extra Virgin combined with my unsatisfactory drinks and meal ruined it for me. I would go back for that blue cheese fondue…

As we were leaving around noon, I noticed there was a wait to get a table. I suppose the place is more popular than I originally thought.


DAMAGE ~84
VERDICT: PASS

Two Boots

201 W 11th St

Say hello to the Hollywood version of yet another pizza joint located in West Village. Two Boots centers itself around pies named after pop culture icons, including Larry Tate, Cleopatra Jones, and “The Dude” aka the Lebowski from The Big Lebowski.

I stopped by on a cold but lovely Saturday afternoon and ordered a slice of The Mel Cooley: sun-dried tomatoes, basil pesto, and roasted peppers on a white pie. The place was small but uncrowded and I managed to nab a seat inside the New Orleans Mardi Gras themed interior.

The pizza was average and definitely not worth bragging about. The crust was crispy, but I would have preferred it slightly crispier; the slice did strike me as particularly fresh. The names of the pies were a bigger deal than the actual pies themselves, as many names are in New York City.

Although I might be back to try their garden slice, which looks like—you guessed it—a garden, I cannot recommend Two Boots. There is much better pizza to be had in the area.

DAMAGE ~ $4
VERDICT: Pass

Bleeker Street Pizza

69 7th Ave South Sigh. How I longed for Bleeker Street Pizza to be more than what it was. The tiny pizza parlor on the corner of Bleeker Street and 7th Avenue was cramped, dirty, and left much to be desired.

I ventured out to Bleeker Street Pizza on a snowy evening after learning the Food Network chose them as the "Best Pizza in New York." I ordered a slice of the Grandma (cheese pizza on a Sicilian crust) and was told to come back in 20 minutes when it was ready. 30 minutes later, I returned and was met by hostility by one of the workers behind the counter; he practically threw my slice at me. I brushed it off, figuring he was having a bad day.

I took the slice back to my apartment in order to “enjoy” it away from the hostile workers or the disgusting restaurant (there were crumbs everywhere). Unfortunately, there was no enjoyment to be had. My fresh-from-the-oven pizza was soggy and cold; I had to reheat it. The tomato sauce was sweet, and I would not be surprised if it was canned. The only thing making my slice bearable was the Extra Virgin Olive Oil and Balsamic Vinegar I added.

I have had better pizza in the city, and I have had a better Sicilian slice in the city. Bleeker Street Pizza is NOT the best pizza in Manhattan, and the attitudes of the workers were a major deal breaker.

DAMAGE ~ $3
VERDICT: Pass

Café Asean

117 W 10th St. (b/w 6th Ave. and Greenwich Ave.)

Café Asean in Greenwich Village was suggested for dinner on Wednesday evening. Sir Fancy Pants and I arrived at the Southeast Asian restaurant to a packed dining room seating maybe 30 people. We were shown to the back patio, also seating for about 30 and covered in glass due to winter (apparently the back patio requires reservations during the summer). After a couple minutes, the server informed us space opened up inside, so we moved indoors.

To get started, I ordered hot sake and Sir Fancy Pants, a Japanese beer. For my meal, I had egg noodles with vegetables and tofu covered in peanut lime sauce; Sir Fancy Pants had a pork dish. The name of the plates escapes me as they were highly unusual.

Overall, the food was ok. My meal arrived in a big, white bowl. It featured two huge chunks of fried tofu with mixed vegetables, including two half slices of tomato, green beans, and carrots laid atop egg noodles. The peanut lime sauce was good, but I could not taste the lime and the server did not offer any. The tofu was great, oversized, and fluffy. Prices were cheap for the Village; my meal was only S10.50.

Space was cozy and the ceiling was littered with different colored Chinese lanterns. I doubt I will be back despite some of the appetizers looking very tasty. Although the restaurant was cute, the food was decent, and the server was attentive, nothing was noteworthy enough to warrant my return.


DAMAGE ~ $40 (before tip) CASH ONLY
VERDICT: PASS

Balthazar

80 Spring St.

Balthazar, Balthazar, Balthazar…
How I longed to whisper sweet nothings in your ear.
Instead, you have left me bitter…
No. Stop. I don’t want to hear.
I really thought we could be happy,
but you lied and abused me for your own personal gain.
You hurt my pride in more ways than one;
Don’t call me. You’ve caused enough pain.

As the aforementioned poem states, my visit to Balthazar did not go quite as expected. After struggling for weeks to get Brunch reservations at the trendy French bistro in SoHo, owned by the same folks that own Pastis, I finally managed to nab Sunday Brunch reservations at 11:00a.m. A dream come true…or so I thought…

We were seated immediately upon arrival, three minutes after 11. The place was packed and there was a line out the door of people waiting to see if anyone failed to show up for their reservation. I ordered my standard Café au Lait to start. The server asked if I would like it in a bowl or cup; I said bowl. My cup of coffee arrived in a huge bowl as shown below. Little did I know, this was only 1 of 2 things worth noting about the popular restaurant.

I then asked for a mimosa and was kindly informed they do not serve alcohol until after 12 in accordance with New York State Law. Given that I had worked so hard to get into the place, I let this slide. I ordered the Eggs Florentine, 2 eggs served with spinach and artichoke. Sir Fancy Pants ordered the Eggs Meurette, 2 poached eggs served in wine sauce topped with bacon and mushrooms. The server informed me the Eggs Florentine does not come with English Muffins. Incredulous as to how they could serve Eggs Florentine without muffins, I asked for them on the side, which I was charged an extra $3.00 for in addition to the $18.50 pricetag of the meal.

After he put our order in, another server brought us a bread basket containing 4 decent size pieces of white and wheat bread. Then it was time for our meal. The Eggs Florentine was topped with Béchamel sauce instead of the traditional Hollandaise sauce. The sauce turned out to be dry and bland; it consists of only milk, flour, and possibly butter. I heard no complaints from Sir Fancy Pants.

The second thing worth noting was the Apple Tart dessert we shared following the meal. It was very nice and cooked to perfection topped with Vanilla Bean ice cream. I also ordered a Hot Chocolate. After two sips, I asked the server to take it off the bill. It looked like hot chocolate, but tasted like brown liquid and steamed milk.

The atmosphere was nice and open with high ceilings, and the bathroom in the basement had its own attendant. The service was also very good. Unfortunately, a good Café au Lait, a delicious Apple Tart, and attentive servers does not justify going back for Balthazar's pricetag.

I’ve done Brunch at Pastis; I left feeling delighted, satisfied, and open to going back. I don’t know what the owners were thinking with Balthazar. I really do not get all the hype surrounding the place. At nearly $20 a portion, it is not worth it.

Perhaps the only good to come out of this much anticipated visit to Balthazar was it broke (i.e. scarred) me of ordering my staple Brunch entrée of Eggs Florentine.


DAMAGE ~ $55 (before tip)
VERDICT: PASS

Galanga

149 W 4th St.

Saturday night dinner was set in a normal only in Manhattan size Thai restaurant called Galanga, located in Greenwich Village. The place was about half full, and we were seated next to the brick wall, rather than the booth on the opposite side or the long table in the center. I wish I had requested the booth because I felt a draft each time the door opened.

Sir Fancy Pants started off with a glass of red wine and I with the Galanga Ice Tea, sake with lime juice and mint leaves. Next came the appetizers. We ordered the Corn Fritters. 5 corn fritters arrived on a small plate with a purple flower in the corner. The taste was similar to a corn empanada; fried on the outside with a sweet doughy mixture of corn on the inside, very good. For dinner, Sir Fancy Pants ordered the Drunken Noodles with beef asking the server to make it as spicy as possible, and I had the Pad Thai with Vegetarian Duck. I might have ventured outside my Thai food staple but did not due to a sense of urgency on the part of the server.

The food was your typical Thai food. Vegetarian Duck tends to be hit or miss, but I enjoyed it at Galanga. The rest of the pad thai was average. With the exception of the Vegetarian Duck, the rest of the dish was lacking in flavor. I ended up adding too much chili sauce and burnt off half my taste buds in the process. In addition, each time I took a bite, I felt something crunchy. This is highly unusual for a platter of pad thai. Sir Fancy Pants said his Drunken Noodles were not as spicy as he wanted, but overall very good.

The entire meal felt rushed. I did not have time to delve into the menu and see what else was available because the server kept bothering us. We got there late in the evening, so I am not sure if the restaurant was near closing time, despite several other people arriving after us. The prices are reasonable (on average about $10 per plate and $8 per drink). There is one bathroom located in the basement. The restaurant has your dimly lit, slightly romantic vibe to it. Unfortunately, I was too irritated by the draft coming from the door, the urgency of the server, and my roasting taste buds to notice.

I have enjoyed much better Thai food in the city without feeling rushed at about the same price. Save your money on this one.

DAMAGE ~ $43 (before tip) CASH ONLY
VERDICT: PASS

Great Jones Café

54 Great Jones Street (b/w Bowery and Lafayette)

Sunday Brunch was had at Great Jones Café located in NoHo. Sir Fancy Pants requested someplace reasonably cheap, so I set to work and found a tiny café with supposedly the top Bloody Mary’s in the city. Given that many restaurants in New York claim they have the “best” of something (pizza, mimosas, hot chocolate), I decided it was worth investigating.

We were seated a couple minutes after we arrived. The small café was a couple people short of capacity in a space that seats maybe 20. This may have been due to the sub zero, frigid weather outside. I ordered the Huevos Rancheros [scrambled eggs on corn tortilla with ranchero sauce, sour cream, and cheese] with a Mimosa and a Café au Lait. The waitress looked at me like I was crazy, so I settled for the house coffee, which was included with my meal. Every meal on the colorful one page menu came with choice of cornbread or biscuit and homefries or grits. I got the biscuit and homefries.

Sir Fancy Pants ordered the Farmer’s Market breakfast, basically an omelet, along with the biscuit and homefries. He also ordered the Cajun Mary, recommended to us by the waitress over the Bloody Mary. The Cajun Mary was delicious. I highly recommend it to anyone who goes here; much like a Bloody Mary but with a spicier, more flavorful kick. The gravy had sausage in it, which was a bummer because I am a sucker for good white or brown gravy, a rarity in New York. Otherwise, I would have liked to try it…

The atmosphere was cozy and the crowd looked to be mostly out of towners visiting their New Yorker son/ daughter/ friend. I felt safe and comfortable inside the cozy space, but the place was pricier than expected, as the menu has no pricing.

Cajun Marys are the stuff that great Brunches dream about. The rest of the meal can be had or lost. My Mimosa was good, but not great. I enjoyed my Huevos Rancheros, not surprising given that Mexican Food is my favorite food genre. The home fried potatoes were good but nothing I could not whip up on my own; the biscuits were rock hard. I peeled away the salvageable insides. Mr. Fancy Pants enjoyed his meal as well, but once again, there was nothing special to it. The only reason to go back would be for the Cajun Marys.

DAMAGE ~$55
VERDICT: PASS