Best of Manhattan 2002: Eats & Drinks

In New York, snails are done right rarely, except at the meat-and-french fries bistro Les Halles. Their escargots would make a believer of even the most squeamish eater. Les Halles is the flagship restaurant in the Anthony Bourdain chain of French facsimiles. Bourdain tries to keep the food and atmosphere as authentically Gallic (not galling) as possible. We come here for the steak frites, which is superb, and always order the snails to kick off the flesh-fest. Every time, the snails are reliably plump and juicy.

We’ve had disasters elsewhere. Some restaurants serve up nasty, shriveled lumps of brown boogers dunked in some flavorless grease, or else they pawn off a sanitized version of the classic that replaces the butter with something else, usually some runny coagulant that tastes like Lubriderm. Les Halles’ snails are a marvel. They’re not too chewy–we’d say they come perfectly al dente–and wear their coat of garlic with so much pride and style we half-expect them to sit up and sing the "Marseillaise." Each mouthful tastes like France itself. As a bonus, you can enjoy these sweet morsels as yellow cabs zoom past on Park Ave., reminding you it’s beautiful New York outside and not some city full of toxically annoying Parisians. Get plenty of bread to soak up the leftover butter puddles.

Best Reason To Get Out of Bed

If the three huge high flapjacks are too much for you, a side of just one may be ordered. The waiters will come over and smugly ask you, "How is it?" They already know. The many coffee refills will bring you out of any residual fog. Of course there’re other generous and tasty breakfast options at this cool Mexican-Asian; we also like the smoked whitefish "maki" with wasabi cream cheese and green-chile scrambled eggs on a nori-wrapped spinach tortilla, served with black beans and cucumber salad ($8.25). And there’s a shareable bread basket ($5.50) of muffin, scone, corn bread and both flour and corn tortillas, with ancho honey butter. The hustle of the cooks seen through the open kitchen might even inspire you to actually do something with your day.

Best New Tribeca Restaurant

On occasion, however, someone breaks the hex. People forget that before Nobu opened to instant acclaim at 105 Hudson St. several years ago, the large space had a disastrous track record, despite its prime location.

Lightning has struck again in Tribeca, this time with Martin Burge’s Fresh, an all-seafood restaurant that opened just a few months ago and has already received a glowing review in The New York Times. Burge, formerly of Gotham Bar & Grill, bravely ignored the lack of success at previous losing enterprises at 105 Reade St., fashioning a unique option for Tribecans (and "foodies," to slip into that awful cliche, throughout the city) who are already glutted with any number of two- or three-star establishments.

The menu changes weekly, according to the availability of fish, but never varies in quality. Late in the summer we had softshell crabs–which will soon disappear from the long list of selections–that approached those served in Maryland kitchens. Better yet was the box of fried Ipswich clams, fat bellies and all, that would meet approval with the most critical New Englanders. We also devoured a lobster roll–described as "a JFK favorite," which is typical of the restaurant’s preciousness, a tic that’s overcome by the sheer quality of the food.

Also recommended are the steamers, clam chowder, a sensational gazpacho with chunks of crabmeat, gravlax, roasted blue tile fish and a simple flounder with jasmine rice in a ginger soy broth.

We’ll see what winter holds for Burge, but if Fresh’s stunning opening is any indication, Tribeca has added yet another outstanding restaurant to the neighborhood.

Best British Dessert to Go

Best Restaurant In Which to Be Wary
Of the Term "Jumbo"

That’s why we were a bit taken aback when the waitress showed up, not with a plate, but with an entire mini-table that took two hands to carry. A mini-wooden table that just barely fit atop the table we were sitting at. And atop that wooden table sat a collection of absurdly massive cuts of sushi. Pieces a full five or six inches long–almost too large to manipulate with chopsticks, and certainly too large to fit in your mouth. What’s more–though we guess it makes sense–you don’t even get a shrimp.

It felt like we were in Land of the Giants.

In the end, after battling our way through it, there was nothing wrong with it. It was still quite tender and good. But for the unwary, it can be quite daunting (and a little messy).

Best New Mexican Restaurant

Some of the house specialties sit smack in the middle of the hybridization–chiles rellenos, chicken mole–while others tilt toward the ritzier branch, like the Adobo de Puerco–pork in guajillo pepper and roasted garlic sauce. But everything on the menu is fresh, and savory or delicate or zingy as recipes dictate. Pair your meal with a beer from El Portal’s extensive selection of Mexican brews, or one of the Jarritos sodas. Que bueno.

Best Brooklyn Restaurant

Blue Ribbon is in many ways more like a Manhattan restaurant. It’s not as laidback as its company on 5th Ave., nor is it as quirky as the places along the Smith St. strip. It doesn’t feel very old or very new. Blue Ribbon’s busyness, classic decor, long waits for tables and occasional crowds of fabulous people dressed to be seen contribute further to the sense that the bistro is decidedly non-Brooklynesque.

Which makes rather inconvenient the facts that the restaurant has the best menu, the best service, the best hours and much of the best food in Brooklyn. All things considered, the borough’s spectacular array of old standbys and dashing up-and-comers can’t claim to top what guests get at Blue Ribbon.

The raw bar could hold its own with any in the entire country. Skipping it, now and then, in favor of one or two items off the appetizer list is also advisable. It’s win-win. But that appetizer menu is win-win-win-win-win, etc. Grilled shrimp remoulade or sweet soppressata? Pierogies or grilled sardines? One of the delectable smoked fish options or the pu-pu platter? Maybe just some perfect vegetables–asparagus vinaigrette, mixed olives, steamed artichoke or crudites? Staying the bistro course is rewarding, by way of escargots (traditional or Bourguignon), country pate, foie gras terrine or the exceptional steak tartare. But the chicken wings, garlic shrimp with chorizo and barbecued ribs also rock.

It feels fantastic to be presented with so many great choices, knowing you’re going to have a great meal no matter what. Blue Ribbon’s soup and salad list continues to pile it on. The $24 clam stew? We’ve never tried it, but we’d bet it’s worth every penny. And the fact that the place keeps excellent matzoh ball soup on hand every night somehow says it all. The smoked trout salad is another dish that could compete for all-city honors.

The restaurant’s hosts and servers are highly efficient and always make us feel comfortable. Factor in that all of the above is available until 2 in the morning and–oops, we didn’t even make it to the entrees. Superb steaks, grilled fresh fish, the lobster, the pigeon, a hummus platter with couscous, tofu ravioli, roasted duck, burgers, fried chicken, paella–you simply can’t lose. The abundance of quality astounds. Blue Ribbon Brooklyn transcends borough to evoke a sense of New York City at its peak.

Best Hetero Clergyman

On the bright side, though his well-focused hormones might slow our alcohol intake, it is at least nice to know that in this day and age, where every clergyman in America is a suspected pederast, there’s at least one who still likes girls who are of age (the way God intended).

Best Place to Have a Hooker
Take a Bite Off Your Dog

Best Tapas

Then, of course, there’s the tapas itself. No place in town does it better, or in larger portions. (Which is not quite the oxymoronic statement it might seem. Tapas is supposed to come in small bites, but some places really skimp. Not Allioli. You always leave having had your fill.) We’re completely crazy for chef Diego Gonzalez’s "dados da datil envuelto en Serrano"–fried dates wrapped in Serrano ham, a sweet-fruit-bacon combo of tastes that makes our tastebuds dance a tarantella. But we like all the usuals–the little bowls of olives, the plate of simmering chorizo, the huge helping of skewered chicken livers, the Spanish anchovies, the small toast wedges topped with artichoke and thinly sliced filet mignon... ¡O dios! And at $5 to $9 per, it’s a deal, too.

Best Great Bar
That You’d Never Suspect
Was a Great Bar

Don’t turn to the right, though. That leads to the concert area where nobody–even someone on the list–leaves without shelling out way too much money. To the left, though, is the restaurant they call Lucille’s. You don’t want to be there between noon and 2 p.m., but the cavernous dark bar is very pleasurable at other times of the day. The drinks are pricey, but you’ll only stay an hour when you start drinking at 11 a.m. each day. Then you’ll disappear, and return to hang out between 3 p.m. and whenever people start showing up for the night’s concert. It’s cool in the summer, warm in the winter, and fans of public sex will find some very interesting niches to explore.

Best Pageantry Of the Louche

There’s certainly no disparaging Habana’s porkchops or Cubano sandwiches. The grilled corn on the cob is good, too, though the bench lizards who burn away the hours on the Elizabeth St. sidewalk only ever seem to go for iced coffee. So like we say, no use trying to figure it out. Better to enjoy the scene at Cafe Habana for the picture it provides of the future. Like this one day, we spotted our first sagging ass-crack tattoo. It was all wrinkled and craggy, had gotten way too much sun. The countergirls saw it too. Ay, mami! You should’ve seen the face they made.

Best Place to Stop Off When You’re on the 7 Train
Heading to Manhattan After Refusing to Eat the
Food at the U.S. Open Or Shea Stadium

Best Cafe to Ruin Your Eyesight In

We stumbled down to Cafe Pick Me Up, where we took up a table in the rear of the second room. We bought a Corona and pulled out that copy of Gravity’s Rainbow we’d been lugging around like the ball on our messenger-bag chain. We like Pick Me Up for all the reasons we’ve given up on most coffee places. We don’t want to go to some chain, but we also don’t want to feel out of place without smeared kohl eyeliner, 20-grommet docs and a Leftover Crack ass-patch. We rarely want to go out of our neighborhood to skulk amongst daringly lopsided attire and strategically placed copies of Camus. We don’t want to make conversation. We want to blind ourselves.

Pick Me Up provides us with the uppers (decent coffee, bag and loose teas) or downers (both beer and wine) we need to get through the night, or the next hundred pages. The music varies from what we’d consider good–someone’s been playing Manu Chao a lot lately–to what we’d consider morally reprehensible (Seal). The art sucks, but they’ve got a laminated sign that reads "Smoking and breathing second-hand smoke is hazardous to your health. (Smoking permitted.)" The outdoor tables are great for people watching, and if reading Pynchon gets to be a pain in the ass (which it probably will), there are always the bathroom walls. But most importantly, at any hour, that back room is cozily doused in shade, with a mismatched table almost always available. We think of those extra 75 cents a cup as cover for the hours of quiet solace. And who cares if votives aren’t sufficient reading light? The world didn’t make much sense back when we could see it clearly, anyway.

Best Queens Greek Restaurant

Best Olives for People
Who Don’t Like Olives

The specimens that caused Mrs. Baker to see the light were big and green. Some were stuffed with blanched almonds and some with whole cloves of garlic (whahooowAAH). But we would expect similar results from most of the offerings at Garden of Eden’s olive bar. You could easily substitute the smaller French Niçoise olives with herbs de Provence, which are eaten as quickly and automatically as handfuls of M&M’s. Or the combo of unembellished black, purple and green ones. About 20 varieties include manzanillas, arbequinas, kalamatas and so forth. A lot easier than cutting up cauliflower.

On a good night, however, this joint is hopping in the very best way. There may be a local rock band playing downstairs, while upstairs the hot jukebox, pinball machines and projections of sexy anime keep the drinkers and posers well entertained. The super-affable Westmoreland is one of the city’s best-loved hosts; if the party hasn’t started when he arrives, it will within five minutes. The place stays open well into the wee hours, making it the best after-hours haven within many, many blocks. For the serious drinker Siberia is kind of a joke, with its eccentrically short shelf of bottled beers and rail liquors; also, the equally oddball no-profanity rule, somberly enforced by the barkeeps, can be an annoyance. But if you want to go drink and cuss, you can do that around the corner; Siberia is as much a see-and-be-scene as a bar, and well worth the drop-by late nights to see what’s (and who’s) shaking.

Best Macaroni and Cheese

That said, we must add that when macaroni and cheese is made well, it can be downright heavenly, and our new holy grail for this casserole is DuMont. Their version comes piping hot to the table in a ceramic ramekin or firkin or gratin dish (we’re not sure of the correct terminology), with corkscrew pasta and a lovely topping of breadcrumbs. (They will even throw in some bacon, if you ask.) We have not quizzed them on the recipe, how many cheeses are involved, where the cows were born, etc., but trust us: you will love it, no matter what you majored in.

As for the restaurant itself, it is properly cozy and has a great neon sign. Colin Devlin, the owner, said that DuMont was once a television station, and that Dr. DuMont made a picture tube. Perhaps one day devotees of macaroni and cheese will speak in reverent, hushed tones of Mr. Devlin. We, for one, think he should apply for a patent right now.

Best Kimchi

But so what if the cuisine as presented is as culturally impure as Disney’s "Small World" animatronics? Some of Kelly & Ping’s dishes are terrific, and none of them more so than the humble Korean kimchi. This funky-smelling stuff is pickled cabbage seasoned with pepper and garlic and the like, and left to ferment. It stinks to anyone not eating it, but a dish of spicy, salty kimchi is a perfect low-fat afternoon snack. We’ve had kimchi elsewhere, and been disappointed, if not with the slime quotient then with the weird odor of cheap ingredients.

Kelly & Ping only serves kimchi twice a week during the day, on Thursdays and Saturdays, probably so the reeking garlic doesn’t turn off the clientele. The place gets a fair share of tourists and celebrities–we saw Gwyneth Paltrow, Meg Ryan and Russell Crowe there on the 4th of July last year–but don’t let that stop you from enjoying the eclectic but delicious food.

Best Feminist Burger Joint

Best Candy Store

The place just feels right. It’s cramped, and it can get awful crowded in there, but you’ll find candies you thought had disappeared 20 years ago. You can mix and match pounds of your hard cand