Dinner And A Movie: Milon & "Knocked Up"

Milon
93 First Avenue
New York, NY 10003
(212) 228-4896

THE THRILLING FINISH to the first ever (and God willing last ever) three-part posting in Mike Eats Food! history (and, oh, what a five month history it's been), finishes with a long-awaited return to an old East Village favorite: Milon, a.k.a. "top-left." If you don't recognize it by name, you'll certainly recognize it from about five blocks away as the place with ten thousand brightly glowing strands of red chili pepper lights, top left.

It is a minor miracle that you never wait more than five, maybe ten minutes for a table at Milon. The place is less than ten feet wide, perhaps forty feet deep, and always crowded. Remarkably, on a Saturday night, we sat right down. Our server, one of a handful who are seemingly always working, was happy to uncork the bottle of wine we brought with us (Milon is carry-in alcohol only), and we went about examining the exhausting list of Indian fare.

We ordered several dishes to share--kofta malai, chana saag, veggie and chicken korma, samosas, and poori. For the three of us, the bill was $28. I mention the tab before discussing the food because while the food is perfectly decent it's the price that makes Milon worth checking out. There are few places in this city you can feed three people to full for less than $30. Bonus: immersing yourself in Milon's stupefyingly bright decor is a memorable experience all its own.

Speaking of memories...

Afterward, we caught a bus up First Ave to meet Mint at Kips Bay and catch a 10:30 showing of "Knocked Up." The film strays very little from the plot you expect, moving through all the expected conversations about unexpected pregnancy and married life, and rarely succumbs to any distractions. Yet, it's funny. There are even a few moments of poignancy. And then, the plot grinds to a halt when the actual birth should be speeding it up, and a feel-good ending betrays the ultimately romantic focus of its comedy. Whatever. Is Judd Apatow ever going to try a new casting agency? His next film sure doesn't.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: Yes, and always top-left.

Garlic Knots and Board Game Night

Carmine's Pizzeria
358 Graham Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11211
(718) 782-9657
www.carminespizzeria.com

THIS WAS SUPPOSED to be the return of Mike Eats Greenpoint!, but upon calling Nassau Pizza (a phone number trusted to the point in won an spot in my cell phone) I was told by a less-than-interested robot-woman voice, "This. Number. Is. No longer. In service." Foiled!

So, I called Carmine's Pizzeria over in Williamsburg, which is located just a few steps from the Graham Avenue L-train station, in the hope they would deliver to way up yonder in Greenpoint. Why not call the previously-mentioned L.A.'s? Well, they didn't have garlic knots on the menu. A silly point, I know, but I really, really wanted some garlic knots. That, and Carmine's is some of the best pizza around these parts.

Garlic knots, hot and knotty

Of course, pizza and garlic knots are always better fresh from the oven, but with Mint's fellow St. Mark's Comics resident Kat stopping by with boyfriend Justin to play, what else, Nintendo Monopoly, delivery was the plan for dinner. Unfortunately, delivery took an hour to accomplish, which is par for the course at Carmine's, where there's always a crowd of customers lining up for pies, meaning that Monopoly didn't start till ten o'clock. Nothing like an all-night game of mortgages and property-management, I always say.

Thankfully, we chose to adopt the "short game" rules. Yes, I understand, that's fairly oxymoronic when you're talking about Monopoly. What's that--you want a recap of the game? Okay:

Justin got out to a great start, piling up the properties. I eventually coaxed him to sell me his "Luigi" for $500 (the equivalent of "Park Place" on a regular Monopoly board), which became a big deal later in the game. Kat and Mint, meanwhile, made up ground by successfully assembling trios of properties elsewhere on the board, and it seemed like they would threaten Justin's growing portfolio. But after I was able to collect all four transportation properties in a utility company trade with Justin and chanced upon buying "Mario" (a.k.a. "Boardwalk"), the money started flowing in and allowed me to end the game when Kat landed on my much-improved "Luigi." Rent: $1,400; Kat: bankrupt; game: over.

Exciting, right? Tune in next time, and perhaps Monopoly Night will become a regular MEF! installment. Loyal readers, may you only be so lucky.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: Yeah, now that he knows Carmine's delivers up here, and having learned Nassau seems to have rolled down its metal gates for good.

BRUNCH!: Lazy Catfish

Lazy Catfish
593 Lorimer Street
Brooklyn, NY 11211
(718) 599-9055

BRUCH IS BETTER with drinks. It's even better with "free" drinks. A Lower East Side staple for some years now, the "three free cocktails" hook is always sure to lure in a brunch crowd, although Williamsburg-Greenpoint spots have been slow to adopt the trend. That's fine, there's better food to be had elsewhere, but the drink special is what broke any tie in favor of Lazy Catfish this particular weekend.

Becky, Logan, and a friend from Richmond met Mint and I, and we took up seats in the back of a very empty Lazy Catfish looking noticably more bar than brunch spot than usual (which is an accomplishment in a space with next-to-no-decorating period). For a moment we all second-guessed our choice. The reassurement started when the first cups of fresh-pressed coffee were poured. A collective sigh of relief was breathed, and we will offer this advice--do not be dissuaded by the bar-esque digs, the Catfish's kitchen is quite good.

Side note: I've looked everywhere for Pampero rum--no luck. Turns out,
Lazy Catfish has bottles of the stuff!

Mint and I have been many times now and although our opinions are somewhat mixed we generally agree the place serves up a good brunch. Good enough to keep us coming back. If you don't mind the absence of atmosphere, $12.99 for a well-assembled plate of standard brunch fare (best option: chicken waffles!) and three drinks included is not bad for Williamsburg. Well, unless you're out to be part of the Williamsburg Brunch Scene. Cause you're not likely to be seen at all at the Catfish.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: Yeah, and he'll prolly whine about it beforehand, begrudgingly order when he gets there, and then tell everyone about how much he liked it. Rinse and repeat.

Patsy's: A Tale of Pizza and Pasta

Patsy's Pizzeria
318 W. 23rd St.
New York, NY 10011
(646) 486-7400
www.patsyspizzeriany.com

PATSY LANCIERI OPENED a soon-to-be legendary pizza parlor in East Harlem in the early 1930s. This much is accepted as New York pizza gospel. What happened in the years to come can only be described as chaos. The short of it is that Patsy's pizza pedigree remains intact to this day despite a family feud over its debated ancestral discipleship. The Grimaldi clan would have you bypass Lancieri's importance en route to its Brooklyn digs, while Patsy's very name itself has been enshrined as Manhattan's marquee pizza moniker.

Personally, I prefer Grimaldi's. Aside from the simple fact that walking over the Brooklyn Bridge to order up a pie at the always-packed Grimaldi's is the quintessential New York experience, the pizza is just better. That's it. But we'll leave this conversation go until I have a chance this summer to visit L&B's. Then we'll have an opportunity to make a proper assessment of NYC's pizza titans.

Mint and I didn't order pizza anyways. Not tonight. We ordered pasta (what can I say--I had pizza last night). It's odd, yes, to visit Patsy's and skip the pie, but I've had pasta from its kitchen before (albeit uptown, not in Chelsea) and it was perfectly fantastic.

Pasta cooked al dente, seafood cooked ad absurdum

Not tonight though. I ordered the linguine fra diavolo with seafood. The sauce was rich and spicy, but the seafood was overcooked, remarkably to entirely different degrees; the mussels were just slightly overdone, ditto for the tiny scallops, the calamari was quite tougher, and the shrimps were the worst of the rubbery bunch. Not a great review, I know, and I do like Patsy's. Mint's simple spaghetti looked infinitely more interesting. Luck of the draw? Perhaps.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: One does not normally go to Patsy's if one is not seeking pizza. Lesson learned.

Amish Market: Best Pizza In Midtown? Bet the Buggy On It

Amish Market West
731 Ninth Avenue
New York, NY 10019
(212) 245-2360
www.amishfinefood.com

FOR TWO YEARS I practically lived off the Amish Market. It's that good. And if I didn't eat there absolutely every day, I certainly bought my coffee there every morning without fail. How can you pass up a place that makes "coffee with milk" using steamed milk without you having to ask or pay extra for it? I'm sorry, you didn't know the Amish made excellent coffee? They also make delicious sushi, salads, fresh-sliced sandwiches, and--get ready for this--the best pizza in Midtown.

That said, I've never eaten at Amish Market West, or any of its other locations around the city, only at the 45th St. location stuck between Second Avenue and Third Avenue, where its a beeline from the AETN offices to the Amish's front door. I was nevertheless quick to recommend it when a coworker asked for a not-terrible suggestion for a late-night working meal. My suggestion, specifically: brick oven pizza.

Why assume one store is as good as another? At Amish Market East, there's a guy who works the brick oven counter, serving up pies and hot sandwiches, hundreds of them daily, and chumming it up with the endless stream of customers--he seemingly knows everyone by name. He is as authentically Italian a pizza pie-making guy as you are likely to meet in this city. On his reputation alone I staked my confidence of suggesting Amish Market West, even with it being a different store entirely.

Was the pizza as good as over East? Decidedly not. I doubt my pizza guy would have let the crust stay so soft; there were no crispy, burnt-black spots on the underside of our Western crust to keep the slices stiff. The mushrooms and mozzarella were certainly up to par, as fresh you'll find anywhere. Working late, the best part was not having to pick up the bill.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: He'll walk over to E. 45th.

Photo courtesy Bob's Walk, photographing every block of every street in NYC since 1988.

Working Late, Eating Spicy

Bombay Masala
148 W. 49th St.
New York, NY 10019
(212) 302-8150
bombaymasalany.com

WORKING LATE, AGAIN. One of the perks of this Country Living gig, however, is that when such late nights occur, we are all provided dinner. Always a good perk, always appreciated.

I convinced a coworker this evening that she wanted to try Indian food. (This, after I was convinced by a coworker that something spicy would help kick the unwanted cold I've been fighting off all week.) In persuasion, I offered that I'd become enamored with Indian food in Spain, of all places, while dating a girl who was vegan--cheap, filling, remarkably easy to come across, Indian food was a nice vegan/vegitarian/meat-tastic option for everyone--and the richly spiced cuisine had quickly became a "soul food" favorite of mine.

We found on SeamlessWeb.com a few Indian options and chose, quite randomly, Bombay Masala. As an aside, SeamlessWeb is a really weird name for an website offering the ability to order food delivered from nearby restaurants. I'm sure there were plenty of marketing geniuses in the room when they came up with it, so I'm sure they also know that DeliciousInternetFood.com and SweetTastyThings.com are still available in case they change their minds, though the latter may not be the market they're looking to snag.

Bombay Masala was good enough. I had requested my aloo gobi to be spicy, but not "maximum spicy," and the happy medium between those two was, to my amazement, met. My coworker ordered chicken masala and was admittedly concerned when her food arrived glowing red and submurged in quite a bit of oil and sauce. Upon tasting it, she was surprised and quite satisfied. Another convert success story.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: He has a chance to sit down and eat at the restaurant proper. Food is usually better when it's not delivered, with rare exception.

Real Madrid 2-1 Valencia: Everyone Wins at the Biergarten

Nevada Smiths
74 Third Avenue
New York, NY
212-982-2591
Official website

Loreley Biergarten
7 Rivington Street
New York, NY 10002
212-253-7077
www.loreleynyc.com/

Rice to Riches
37 Spring Street
New York, NY
212-274-0008
www.ricetoriches.com

WHERE TO BEGIN... how about with Ruud van Nistelrooy's opening goal for Real Madrid in the 17th minute of yesterday's match against Valencia?

At that point I was sitting by myself in Nevada Smiths, the black hole of football fervor many New Yorkers know from the curious crowd that gathers outside on Third Avenue attempting to peer through its blackened windows. No, it's not a strip club. But when the place gets "full up" for a game the unlucky are relegated to the sidewalk outside. There they strain to peek in like some sixteen-year-old kid with bad acne and a bad fake ID promising the bouncer his "friends are just inside." Not that it's happened to me.

Anyway, Nevada's shades were drawn yesterday but there was hardly a wait when Real's striker put Madrid ahead with a volley turned so quickly to goal the television cameras lost it before it hit the back of the net. It was at precisely this moment that Aaron called. He can attest to this fact because I answered by screaming, "Goooooooool!" into the phone.

Sir Aaron, Miss Natasha, and Philly friends Peyton and Elissa joined for the second half of the game, which featured David Beckham's return to action in a moment of dramatic revival even Jesus must have envied. The camera tilted slowly up following Gago's exit to reveal Madrid's unannounced substitute, (angels sing) Beckham! The madridistas cheered, the Valencia crowd mocked them with chants of "M-L-S!" and Beckham responded minutes later by calmly curling a free kick into the Valencia box where Sergio Ramos put the game away for Real.

Did I mention Nevada Smiths serves meat pies (beef, chicken, or curry vegetable) for $3 each? Oh, well, I didn't have one--just whiskey, thanks--but this is a food blog after all, and man cannot live on the glow of David Beckham alone. It bears mentioning.

From Spain to Germany in fifteen blocks

After the game, our crew wandered down to the Lower East Side in search of a place Natasha had just chosen to host her birthday gathering in a few weeks: Loreley. Seemed a good plan to check it out. We were joined by Steph, ordered drinks from the bar, and then told the wait for six to sit in the biergaten out back was "nearly impossible." That's all? We'll wait.

Perhaps forty minutes later I went to tell our kind hostess that we would be leaving. Her response: you're table is ready. Oh, is that true? We'll sit.

The menu at Loreley is about what you would expect from a beirgarten--beer, meat, and potato pancakes--without any of the awe-inspiring open space that make beirgatens... well, gartens, and not just the backyard of some bar on the Lower East Side. Don't get me wrong, the owners of Loreley have done a really wonderful job of opening up every last inch of space they can squeeze out of their Rivington & Bowery digs, but in the end its just a taste of the beer garden life you're seeking, not the authentic experience (for that, we recommend the Bohemian Hall in Astoria, Queens.)

After waiting in here for an hour...

...you will most certainly need to spend some time out here

It's a good life, though, that's for sure. We ordered rounds of draught Kolsch by the tray ($22 for 1.6 liters, or $30 for 2 liters poured into .2 liter glasses, 8 to 10 glasses respectively), Natasha ordered a 1 liter stein of the stuff, and we all proceeded to fill our end of the communal table with burgers ($12), fries ($6), plates of potato pancakes with smoked salmon ($14), and cold cuts with cheese and bread ($12). After eating and drinking our fill, our tab had only run to $150 for six of us. Not a small number, but for that much food and drink on a Friday night on the LES, no one was complaining.

Delicious!

Upon leaving Loreley we were aimless and about to head our separate ways, but not without one final stop. With our friends from Philly having had their interests piqued by word of multi-flavored rice pudding a few blocks away, we headed into Soho and the world of Rice to Riches.

"It looks like Japan happened here."

Both Steph and Elissa chose Sex, Drugs and Rocky Road while I kept things a little more classic with the Coconut Coma, both ridiculously decadent choices. I had heard this stuff was expensive, but $5 for a "solo" serving that could easily have fed two people didn't seem outrageous, the quality was top-notch, and the atmosphere was as indulgent as the flavors. No complaints here. I even have a space-age takeout container with the leftovers in my fridge. Now, when the aliens come I know to take them for rice pudding.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: There's a Champions League final; Natasha's birthday; and I'm showing extraterrestrial friends from Mars, Japan, and/or Philly around NYC.


Photos courtesy Marca (top) and Gothamist (bottom)

Made with Love and 0 Trans-Fats

Orololgio
162 Avenue A
New York, NY 10009
212-228-6900

"Ray's Candy Store"
Avenue A, b/t St. Mark's & 7th St.
New York, Ny 10009

THE BEST SURPRISE of any night is Belgian fries. It's not something you plan; it's something that just happens. Like flipping through the pages of an old book and finding a long lost $20 bill, or the casual suggestion from a friend, "hey, let's do karaoke!" Belgian fries sneak up behind you on the hiking trail of life and rush out with a great big, happy bear hug you never saw coming. Only, this particular bear hug comes with 20 different flavors of sauce.

We'll get the deep-fried highlight reel soon enough, but we can't let even Belgian fries overshadow a trip, first, to the exceptional Orologio.

Not as grainy in real life

I try to stay away from "good" Italian food in NYC mostly because it's a fine line one walks in attempting to get such a thing. No one really wants four-star pasta. The beauty about good pasta is that it's homemade, it's comfort food, filling, simple, and perfectly unpretentious. Why would anyone pay $25 for a bowl of spaghetti? Why should one need to? Steaks and fish aside, Italian food is the great good-food equalizer--not everyone can do it, but anyone can in theory. You just need to find a place that really gets it right.

Orologio gets its right and the prices are quite reasonable ($9-15), for dishes as simple as house-made pasta al pomodoro to spaghetti tossed with seafood. My black and white tagliolini came in its own rich, spicy tomato sauce and was perfectly cooked, thick and soft, as was my friend's penne with chicken and artichokes. The only time we thought to complain our server offered before we could even ask, "our house bread is still baking and will be finished soon." Ah, well, perfect then.

This is the second or this time I've visited Orologio, and I've yet to find something to not like about it. It's convenient, delicious, and affordable. Am I missing something?

After some drinking and nostalgia with randomly-met old friends at an odd bar (appropriately enough) named Revival, Mint and I were headed back to Brooklyn when the question was asked:

"Can we get Belgian fries?!"

Um, yes! Yes, we can! And so we wandered back over to Avenue A, hung a right, and kept walking until the brick red letters of "BELGIAN FRIES" were legible on the storefront awning before us. There's no official establishment name printed anywhere outside to speak of, but the consensus is that the store is called Ray's, affectionately known as Ray's Candy Store to East Village locals. Of course, we know it as, the "Can we get Belgian fries?" place.

Now, you know that any establishment with no name selling Belgian fries and egg creams across the street from Thompkins Square Park simply must be an establishment boasting an fine-to-outstanding reputation. You would be correct--at 1:00 a.m there was a line out the door consisting of one rather drunk couple and two guys attempting to by fries in exchange for a $10 Metrocard. You can probably guess who left with fries.

Mint kindly asked for a small ("don't be fooled they're HUGE!") order of fries and opted for ranch dressing, ketchup, and a splash of vinegar, all unceremoniously pumped onto our fries by none other than Ray himself. It was an honor, a pleasure, and a privilege. I then asked for a chocolate milkshake, which was promptly made from milk (kept cold on ice in a red plastic bucket) and mixed with what I can only imagine was chocolate frozen yogurt.

Ray's Belgian fries are just as world-famous as his pizza


Ray is also the leading cause of heart disease and obesity among Mint and I

We paid (with proper legal tender) and headed out into the night with our hot eats and cool treats in search of a cab to take us home. We found one. It had a touch-screen television screen in the backseat. With GPS and Zagat reviews. I swear we weren't that drunk--we're not making this up. I have both pictures and leftover Belgian fries in my fridge to prove it.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: And you should too.

Dinner And A Movie: Counter & "Hot Fuzz"

Counter
105 First Avenue
New York, NY 10003
(212) 982-5870
www.counternyc.com

FIRST OF ALL, "Hot Fuzz" is the best movie I've seen since "Children Of Men," which was only a few months ago, I know, but I've seen a lot of great movies lately so let's not get too picky. From the master-creators of "Shaun Of The Dead," this cop movie send-up features one of the single funniest moments I have ever seen committed to film: an old woman getting flying-kicked in the face.

Now, Mom, before you yell at me, this woman is trying to shoot the film's hero with a shotgun and she's also responsible for the deaths of several other innocent people. She has it coming. Fast. And jumping through the air into her face. It's hilarious! And she's okay afterwards, she just goes to jail. I'm not ruining anything, I promise. I'm sorry, did you say, "decaffeinated?"

Aaron S. Hitchcock has a great take on this film also. You would all do well to read it and then buy up all of his artwork. It's good artwork and will appreciate in value at approximately 6% annually. Not a bad rate, I'd say.

After the film, Mint and I attempted to go to the Organic Grill since she was in the mood for vegan food (not a mood one is frequently "in" if one is not vegan, I assure you), but the two women working at the Grill informed us they were closed... twenty minutes before the sign on the door said they were so they could get home early. Which brings us to this very important announcement:

The Official Mike Eats Food! Boycott of Organic Grill is now at Day 1!

With two whole exclamation points, Organic Grill now joins the ranks of other such boycott-worthy establishments including the Pinnacle Deli on Third Avenue (for charging $0.10 to toast a bagel), Wasabi on Manhattan Avenue (for not being Sapporo Haru), and MacDonald's everywhere (for ruining modern civilization). Congratulations, jerks! I even started a Citysearch account to tell everyone how much you suck!

And so we ended up at Counter.

Looks fancy, costs fancy

Mint had the meatloaf special (made with house-made seitan) with an order of Counter's enormous hand-cut pommes frites (note: you know you're paying to much for french fries when you have to italicize them in print), and I enjoyed the hearty, pesto-tastic soup au pistou and the East Side Burger made from light mushroom pate and seitan.

Everything was delicious and the wine selection was fantastic, but my main concern with Counter is that vegan food isn't necessarily its greatest as haute cuisine. I mean, this is the food of hippies and neo-socialists, folks with no money and no jobs. Seventeen bucks for an entree isn't exactly keeping to the budget, let alone the spirit of saving the world through food. That doesn't mean creating accomplished seitan doesn't require a four-star chef (double negative!). So, the anti-establishment needs an well-established one to do things properly? That's the kind of oxymoron that makes Counter's take on vegan cuisine ultimately confusing.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: I probably wouldn't, but the East Village is running short on organic options... eh, Organic Grill? I anxiously await your apology.

Photos from Rouge Pictures and Counter/Organic Wine Journal

Yes, That's Right, Malted Milk Ball Ice Cream!

The City Grill
296 Columbus Avenue
New York, NY 10023
212-873-9400
www.thecitygrillnyc.com

STEPH AND I spent the afternoon at The Morgan Library. For $12, it's one of those random New York museum experiences that reminds you simultaneously how old and young this city is. The Morgan name should sound familiar: J.P. Morgan has been offering financial services for those who can afford if since, well, a while ago. The library and museum in NYC houses all of the family's books, Gutenberg Bibles, Mozart manuscripts, and medieval art pieces. You know, the stuff any family has laying around after a few hundred years of financial industry dominance.

This reminds me how young this city is because five hundred years of history just doesn't cut it on the world scene. You walk into Morgan's white marble foyer, turn into his study (complete with Renaissance-painted wood ceiling panels) and wonder just what is this is doing in New York? You're trying too hard, literally, if you need to import your ceiling from the Renaissance. Yet, it's beautiful and you'll admire it anyway.

Was there food involved in this?

Steph and I went back uptown afterwards and ended up having dinner sitting at The City Grill's bar while watching Ohio State beat Georgetown en route to the national championship game. The enormous crab cake sandwich was fantastic; the game was better. The dessert, however, does deserve a few more sentences:

Why do you want this dessert? Keep reading to find out!

We ordered two desserts, actually. The first was a grilled pound cake listed among the daily specials with vanilla ice cream, sliced peaches and strawberries. A good idea, but the pound cake was obviously grilled on the same grill as everything else in the restaurant. This gave the pound cake an odd taste neither of us much liked--we split one of the two slices and abandoned the other.

Our second dessert was a simple brownie sundae ($6.50), but instead of vanilla ice cream it came with malted milk ball ice cream, which was, yes, as amazing as it sounds. Whipped cream and chocolate syrup were also involved, the brownie was excellent on its own, but I'll repeat--malted milk ball ice cream! Seriously, I'd pay full price next time just for that.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: Do I have to say it again? Malted milk ball ice cream!

Four-Stars & Takeout (Reservations Required)

Q2 Thai
788 Ninth Avenue
(b/t 52nd St. & 53rd. St.)
New York, NY 10019
(212) 262-2236

Le Bernardin
155 W. 51st Street
(b/t Sixth & Seventh Aves.)
New York, NY 10019
(212) 554-1515
www.le-bernardin.com

I'M SORTA CHEATING on this one. I didn't so much actually eat at Le Bernardin as I did eat take-out Q2 Thai physically at Le Bernardin. I mean, we were inside the place for sure. I'm not, like, saying we were on the street outside eating take-out at Le Bernardin. We were totally upstairs, just, not so much eating off its menu.

Again, this is one of those on-a-shoot perks where you get to film the world-renowned chef of a four-star restaurant that's consistently regarded as New York's finest and so you may at some point or another actually touch the food he makes. It's like shaking the hand of someone famous and never washing it. Except, that would be gross cause we're talking about food.

Anyway, the food was alright. The Thai food, I mean. I had noodles in green curry with tofu and veggies. It was fine, spicy, whatever. Did I mention that we ate it at Le Bernardin? The kicker is that our little side door was locked when I returned from picking up the take-out, so Jeanie Cha and I had to walk up and through the restaurant with our plastic bags in hand. Hilarious.

But I've saved the best for last. As we were striking our improvised set of food beauty shots, the kitchen brought out a tray of milk chocolate pot de creme--an egg shell filled with sweet chocolate and caramel foam with maple syrup maldon sea salt. If I wanted to be really annoying, I would tell you that this dessert is only available on the $180 per person Chef's Tasting menu.

Needless to say it was incredible.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: He's got $700 to blow on the best food he'll ever eat.

Birthday + Birthday = Broke

Churrascaria Plataforma
316 W. 49th Street
New York, NY 10019
(212) 245-0505

Sammy's Noodles
453 Sixth Avenue
(b/t 10th St. & 11th St.)
New York, NY 10011
(212) 924-6688

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, FIRST, to both Brian and Faryl. After the debauchery of the previous evening, the last thing I needed was to get up and head back out for more food and drink, but when you've got good friends getting older you have little choice in the matter.

First stop was Churrascaria Plataforma--"The Steak House Even Vegetarians Would Love!" I'll be the judge of that, thank you. The "would" in that claim seems exceedingly passive. Why not "will," or perhaps "can?" The marketing people might have tried harder here. Anyway, I don't make a habit out of hanging around in Brazilian steak houses, but I might start. I did enjoy Plataforma.

Used in an eating challenge between Brian and his friends (the "ladies" as he frequently referred to them), the idea of a green and red, two-sided coaster to signal "hey, more meat here!" or "please, stop giving me meat!" is pure genius. Brian never flipped his to red, so the parade of skewered meats coming forth from the kitchen (which included everything from garlic steak to chicken hearts) never ceased stopping by to shave off a few ounces onto his plate. And Brian likes a clean plate, so his mission was pretty clear (see photo above.)

He weighed in 201 pounds this morning but was unable to stop by the gym post-meal, so we'll never truly know the measure of hurt he did to his body. But he seemed pleased with himself. That's what matters in life, yes? And I was pleased with the huge salad bar which was by no means limited to salads. Truth be told, vegetarians would like Plataforma. (NOTE: For a good time, check out Plataforma's website, complete with a modest descripton of its servers, or, as the website gushes, "the Bruce Lees of meats."

Next up, Sammy's Noodle Shop is one of those ubiquitous store-front Chinese joints in NYC that I would never have thought to stop in had I not been told to. But this birthday was Faryl's, an old friend of Mint's, and she told us to.

The menu is exhausting, but we were told to stick with the lo mein. It turned out to be a great choice. The noodles were fat and appropriately greasy, some of the best I've had. The bean curd fried with General Tso's legendary sauce was also amazing, firm and cooked completely.

The fortune cookies, however, were the highlight for me. Mine read, nonsensically, "Birds are entangled by your feet and men by their tongue." Big prizes for anyone who can explain that one.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: Plataforma was fun, but probably not a future choice; Sammy's, if I'm in the area, sure.

Mid-March Madness

Patsy's Pizzeria
61 W. 74th Street
New York, NY 10023
(212) 579-3000
www.patsyspizzeriany.com

Dive Bar 75
101 W 75th Street
New York, NY 10023
(212) 362-7518

Jacques-imo's
366 Columbus Avenue
New York, NY 10023
(212) 719-0150
www.jacquesimosnyc.com

AFTER WORKING ALL morning on St. Paddy's Day, I was happy to head home early. I was pretty tired after three days of shooting with a documentary crew (which is at least more fun than a film or television crew), and after spending the entire morning taping inside a mosque, St. Paddy's Day seemed to lose some of its lustre. Today was, however, the third day of March Madness, we were finished early, and with 16 games on television part of me did want to sit, drink, eat and be with friends while watching the games.

Standing on the subway platform waiting for the E train to take me back towards Brooklyn, I literally turned around and walked to the opposite side where the cross-town E train was arriving--I would head east instead, and up to Dive 75. There, I could sit, drink, eat and, since Steph was working, have a friend to keep me company while watching the games. Perfect!

Now in the best of all possible moods, I arrived just in time for the last half of the Ohio State game. I quickly lost my appetite upon realizing OSU was losing by ten with a few minutes remaining, but shock and horror turned to disbelief as they rallied (and won in overtime), my appetite returned, and in this way Steph and I came to order some pizza.

Patsy's is arguably New York's greatest slice of pizza. There are personal favorites in every corner of the city, but it is generally agreed upon that either Patsy's (with a few locations scattered about Manhattan) or Grimaldi's (in Brooklyn, tucked away in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge) is the absolute tops.

We ordered a small white pizza with garlic and an order of fried zucchini and eggplant (which Patsy's will deliver until early evening, but check their website for locations, hours, etc. and remember that it's cash only.) We ate everything. And while I don't usually write about bars, technically Dive 75 does leave copious amounts of candy sitting about in martini glasses, which counts as food. They also let you have food delivered to the bar, which facilitates eating.

Aaron joined me for drinks later on, while Steph finished her shift and headed home for a bit. We proceeded to get ever-drunker, called Steph, and decided to all meet Mint and Natasha for dinner around the corner at Jacques-imo's.

Jacques-imo's is New Orleans food at its self-proclaimed most authentic, though I question that slightly. The food was good, but inconsistent. The fried green tomatoes were a bit stale, but the calamari was soft and damn good. My shrimp creole was way overcooked, but Mint's fried chicken was huge, audibly crunchy, and looked amazing. Aaron was wasted.

Our waitress clearly got a kick out of us, and decided to bring us key lime pie and a round of green shots to celebrate, then sat down and enjoyed them with us. Aaron was still wasted. Of course, I then spilled an entire drink on myself. So, you be the judge. All things considered, it was better than taking the E train home.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: Patsy's, yes; Dive, weekly: Jacques-imo's, maybe, but only if our favorite waitress is working.

Mike Eats Greenpoint, Volume 3: Brooklyn Label

Brooklyn Label
180 Franklin Street
Brooklyn, NY 11222
(718) 389-2806
www.brooklynlabel.com

THE GREATEST PERK of working as a freelancer in the production industry is free meals. Generally, on a shoot day, you get to wake up and have coffee and a bagel provided for you. Lunch is either bought for you or it's delivered hot. If you're union and you work overtime, you'll even get dinner! Free meals, even when working for them, are pure joy.

So, with freelance gigs lined up with different companies for the next couple weeks, I was assuming breakfast and lunch were going to be all sewn up for a while. Let's just say we didn't get off to a screaming good start.

Today's small shoot with a small crew featured not only zero break for breakfast (I did steal some bites of a bagel and coffee from the cast table), but the director rushed to get done by 3 p.m. and the producer thereupon released us without offering any lunch, stomachs grumbling and blood starting to boil.

To add to the frustration, tomorrow call time is 4 a.m., which is an ungodly hour of the morning to be headed to work. And I've already been warned that it'll be a long day. Which leaves time today for a meal and an early, early bedtime.

Mint and I wandered up Manhattan Avenue looking for something new and exciting, and happily settled for the been-established and still exciting Brooklyn Label. Of course, having had no breakfast or lunch, I skipped dinner and went for breakfast. The curry tofu with potatoes, provolone cheese and broccoli was fantastic, and the hashbrowns again perfect with the homemade ketchup, and this time we bought a bottle (worth it, even for $8) to bring home.

Whereupon I immediately went to sleep (read: took a nap) for tomorrow's shoot. Let's hope someone remembers to bring bagels. At 4 a.m., I'm gonna need 'em.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: The second trip to Brooklyn Label was as good as the first. I see no reason to stop now.

Spring Break, Part X: Back in Brooklyn

La Traviata
139 Montegue Street
(b/t Clinton & Henry)
Brooklyn, NY 11201
(718) 858-5592

THE BEST PART of waking up in a Comfort Inn is making your own Belgian waffles in the lobby. I think. Anyway, I got a kick out of it--I've never had the pleasure. It was certainly a plus to be able to drag them back to the hotel room with a couple cups of coffee and sit on the balcony looking out over the ocean. Not a bad send-off.

The flight back was unremarkable, same for the taxi (yet apparently I've decided to remark on them... curious), and I spent most of the afternoon unpacking all the goodies I happily lugged back: a new flask (from my mother), a huge Eduardo Chillida art book, and lots of glasses (also from my mother) that remarkably survived the flights crew's best efforts to destroy them in my luggage. Those, and several other things.

Unpacked, I headed down to Brooklyn Heights to meet Mint for dinner. The snow and ice was an unpleasant reminder of reality after a few days at my brother's place in sunny North Carolina, and so was slipping on the stairs outside Mint's store and nearly destroying my arm. Welcome home.

We went, as we always seem to do, to La Traviata. It's absolutely nothing special, and I certainly wouldn't recommend you make a trip out to Brooklyn Heights just to hit it up, but if you're in the neighborhood it's not a bad option. Reasonably priced, well-prepared Italian food with service that tends to be, well, not. I guess the plus to this is that you won't be rushed.

I've had lots of stuff over a few visits and found that the pastas tossed with seafood tend to be the best bet for your money, only slightly-more expensive than their pasta-only options and twice as good. The salmon and peas in vodka sauce and the linguine with shrimp, calamari, and mussels with plum tomato sauce are two of my favorites.

It's nothing you'll run home raving about, but if you order a few glasses of wine and sit back to watch the waitresses struggling to keep up with their tables, you'll have a fine time indeed.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: He's in Brooklyn Heights.

Spring Break, Part VI: Skully's Music vs. Diner

Skully's Music Diner
1151 N. High Street
Columbus, Ohio 43201
(614) 291-8856
www.skullys.org

SKULLY'S MUSIC DINER is one of those places that wasn't around until after I left Columbus some seven years ago. Sitting on High Street between downtown and the campus of Ohio State University, I've passed it by on several visits but never stopped in. I knew it was a club by night, but, discovering they also served breakfast after noon, we figured we'd give it a try this morning.

This brings up a pretty good rule that is appropriately mentioned right now: eating food at any music venue should be done with great caution. Alcoholic, grumbling, dirty road-bound rockers and food preparation really don't mix (though, The Cake Shop on New York's Lower East Side, however, immediately strikes me as an exception to this rule.) Fortunately, or not, we were hungry enough to not care.

We immediately ruined our breakfast plans by ordering fried mac n' cheese bites as an appetizer. They were, of course, disgusting, but amazing in their orange, gooey grossness. Had we been hungover, they would have been the stuff of legends. They were followed by a rather bland breakfast burrito for me and an order of steak and eggs for Mint that showed up looking remarkably classy--a huge cut of good-looking beef with two over-easy eggs (the dish comes with an absolutely unnecessary three, and she wisely requested one less.)

In the end, we would have had a more all-around satisfactory meal at any hole-in-the-wall diner, but then again Mint certainly isn't complaining about her steak and eggs. So, I'll leave this one up to someone else.

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: Porbably not, unless Mint tells him to.

Spring Break, Part II: Always Time for Jell-O

D&R Depot
63 Lake Street (Rt. 19)
LeRoy, NY 14482
(585) 768-6270
www.dandrdepot.com

THE D&R DEPOT is quite possibly the reason I wanted to drive through upstate New York en route to Ohio.
In fact, my mother and I likely hatched our crackpot scheme of meeting in Syracuse and crashing in Batavia before heading to Youngstown for this purpose alone. Or, at least, I did.

Once upon a time, two friends and I set out to produce our first ever documentary on the history of Jell-O. This delivered us to LeRoy, NY, just over an hour west of Rochester, where the dessert was born, and where we spent many of our weekends working on the project. When we got hungry, we asked around for a good place to find lunch. The answers, if I remember correctly, were unanimous.

The D&R menu is made up of American favorites. You really can't go wrong. I believe I lived several months of my life eating their mac n' cheese every weekend. I turned out fine. Being too early in the morning for mac n' cheese (though I debated ordering some to take with us), my mom and I settled on breakfast. We had two kinds of French toast: one crispy, battered with corn flakes, and the other sweet, with coconut stuck to all sides. Both amazing.

Paying homage to dessert

Afterwards, like any good visitor to LeRoy, we went to the Jell-O Museum. From there we headed west, stopping briefly in Geneva-on-the-Lake, Ohio to walk on the frozen shores of Lake Erie before turning south towards Warren, and home.

On ice, forty feet out in Lake Erie, a.k.a. "a terrible idea"

MIKE EATS NEXT TIME: Any time I have to drive across I-90. And even a few times I might make up the reason to do so.