If you’ve read many of my other posts, you’ve probably seen lots of whining about Midtown East. There are way too many Starbucks (Starbuckses?) and real estate is insanely pricey, so there isn’t much room for charismatic hole-in-the-wall ethnic joints. (If the term “hole-in-the-wall” brings back gleeful memories of truck stop toilet stalls, please stop […]

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I rarely get excited about the pleasant, well-behaved plates of food served at most European restaurants. I do, however, get excited about spicy bowls of green mush and black-as-death spicy baked fish and gelatinous fish skins. Carefully manicured plates of meat and starch, with minimal spice? Not interested, usually. Then again, sometimes those carefully manicured […]

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Whenever I think about eating British food, a litany of tired, insulting clichés inevitably jump to mind.  Really, does anybody—other than British chefs and British nationalists—ever say anything good about British food? It would be really easy for me to go to a British-owned pub, eat a soggy pot pie or lifeless fried fish, write […]

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I consider myself a champion eater, but I was having something of a mid-afternoon slump when I took on a big fat plate of Swedish food at the Swedish Consulate’s Midsummer Festival in Battery Park.  I got home from Barros Luco at 2:45 pm, with a bag of Chilean food clutched in my hands.  Silly […]

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I live in Midtown, land of breathtakingly mediocre by-the-pound buffets.  I always knew that I’d someday find myself loading up a little plastic container at a lameass NYC hot bar, but I really didn’t think I’d enjoy it.  Sometimes, you just gotta inhale your crappy hot bar food and get back to work.  That’s the […]

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