e a t e r y R O W

DELECTICA
564 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10016
(212) 986-1616

Lunch, unfortunately, comes every day. And lunch is one of those meals that you really can't enjoy. I mean, unless you're important enough to "do lunch" somewhere. For the rest of us who grab lunch and take it back to work, for the rest of us who can't spend an hour and a half not at the office, and for the rest of us who are our own waiter, finding as many good lunch places as won't bore you to tears is a necessity of life. Sandwiches and salads are the mainstay and there have to be a bajillion varieties of them to keep us sane. Delectica helps to fulfill this need.

PRVixen's been working in midtown a little longer than me so she knows a few more places than I do. So after a week eating at Macchiato, she suggested a slog downtown a bit to get some grub at Delectica. On a particularly slow day, I could afford the long-ish walk over and back.

On day two, PRVixen ordered the Fresh Mozzarella Euro Toast. I think this is a fancy name for Panini. This particular panini-esque sandwich is slabs of mozzarella and tomato coated in basil pesto. I thought it was good, but I've never been a big one for vegetarian sandwiches. She loved it. My lunch was the Smoked Turkey Sandwich. Like the black forest ham sandwich, I asked for it on the seven grain bread. Between those slices of bread alongside the turkey, is black olive pesto, Havarti cheese, tomato, and arugula. Good, but not as good as the black forest ham sandwich. I think it's because the olive pesto lent it a bitterness that I wasn't fond of.

PRVixen and I headed back for a quick bite to eat. She went again for the Mozzarella Euro Toast, but also tried a Walnut Brownie. She loved it. It was very sweet, so have it with a drink. And it was chock full of walnuts. There was almost as much walnut as chocolate. I ordered the Chicken Salad Salad. It's chicken salad (the kind with mayo) over mixed greens and I asked for it to be served with the breaded cauliflower, which was a great side dish. But the salad itself was kind of a downer.

42-18 31st Avenue
Astoria, NY 11103
(718) 721-1001

Up until recently Astoria was the only cool Queens neighborhood. Now it must share that mantle with Long Island City. However, what Astoria can't have in terms of luxury highrises and skyline views, it's making up for with nightlife. Steinway Street itself is kind of like a grungy shopping mall with its mix of mom-and-pop shops and chain stores that need to steam clean their facades, but it's nearly impossible to really explain the crowds that line 31st and 30th Avenue. You can barely walk five feet without coming across a chic new cafe with table full of girls dressed like they're ready to party. In comes Cavo to grab some of that miniskirt and stiletto wearing crowd.

Astoria was on my shortlist for places to move when I was choosing neighborhoods outside of Manhattan. I ended up vetoing it because it reminded me too much of Chinatown and Little Italy. Namely, it's pretty dirty. But also, it's too Greek. There just didn't seem to be very much variety. Though that isn't really true, it feels like it is. Of course, Cavo's Greek.

Cavo's also huge. Massive. Massively huge. We sat outside and walking to our table meant zig-zagging though the bar/lounge in the front and through the indoor dining area, then downstairs to the patio. There are bars there, too. In fact, there are two stories of outdoor seating, just like there are two stories of indoor seating. The indoor dining room is very modern. The outdoor area feels like sitting by a Cretian temple with trees, waterfalls, red mood lighting, and tribal designs on the surrounding walls.

Cavo has to pay for all this somehow, and they do so by being one of the sexiest places in the borough and with Manhattan pricing. Appetizers average $12 each and entrees average $30. I went there twice with D. Luckily, she paid for one of the visits.

Day One:
I got off work in the dark, as usual, and headed to Steinway Street. D had been to Cavo many times with friends. I had never heard of the place, but I'm not an Astoria resident. We grabbed a seat by the wall and ordered a bottle of pinot grigio. Since Cavo's Greek, you don't get bread bread. Instead, you get a basket of pita bread, served with an addictive olive spread.



D ordered the Garides Me Filo appetizer: shrimp covered in a filo pastry and drizzled with a thyme scented honey. She liked it. I thought it was good, but not great. My starter choice was the Htapodi Sta Karvouna, a charcoal grilled octopus served in a vinaigrette with chick peas, olives, roasted tomatoes, and potato. This was very good, especially if you're a fan of octopus like I am, but would have been even better if the vinaigrette was less potent. So if you don't like vinegar, this won't be the dish for you.

For an entree, D ordered the Kotopoulo Kokkinisto Alonnisu, a red wine braised baby chicken stuffed with spinach and feta cheese. Again, D liked her dish. Again, I thought it needed a little help. Maybe I just don't much care for feta cheese (by the way, I don't much care for feta cheese). But I also think it was too dry. Maybe when you order it, it'll be better. My entree was the Maschari Sta Karvouna, a charcoal grilled skirt steak served with "Greek" fries... ie: French fries with herbs. Very good. Very tender. But too much salt. Nonetheless, I'd get it again.



We did not get dessert and went upstairs and indoors for drinks at the bar.

I can't find my receipt, but two appetizers, two entrees, a bottle of wine, plus tax and tip hovered around $150.

Day Two:
By some fluke of luck, D and I got the exact same table, right by the wall. The best table for two, in my opinion, especially when you want a good, unobstructed view for taking photos. We only ordered a glass of wine each this time, since we were planning on going to Bar 36 later on for cocktails. For her appetizer, D chose Cavo's Greek Salad, known at Cavo as Cavo's Horiatiki. Tomato, cucumber, olives, capers, feta cheese, and red onion. This was very good. And again, I'm not a huge fan of feta. My appetizer was the Moschari Me Polenta, braised black angus short ribs over polenta served with crispy shallots and sheep's milk cheese. Damn. That was good.There was some fat that should have been trimmed off, but that pettiness aside, this was a good dish.

Much to my chagrin, D ordered a special. Why is this a big deal, you ask? Simply put, if you go there, you might not be able to order the special unless it repeats itself. Nonetheless, D got the Filet Mignon... only to order it well done!?! She liked it a lot, so maybe some of you all will, too. As for me, the cow died in vain. My main course was the Agrios Solomos Me Pilafi, an herb and mustard crusted salmon with with a vegetable risotto. Very very good with one issue. It was unbearably heavy because it was coated in butter. It was so heavy that I was on the verge of nausea. If they could cut that down it would be an excellent dish. The risotto was great, by the way.

141 East 44th Street
New York, NY 10017
(212) 867-6730

Manhattan is awash in Starbucks. Just read my last post. Don't get me wrong, I love Starbucks, but variety is the spice of life. So it's nice to see an alternative to the superstar of the coffee world.

Macchiato is only open on weekdays, and on those weekdays it's only open between 10AM and 3PM. These hours, in a word, suck. It opens too late for breakfast, though it does have a limited "breakfast" menu, and it closes too late for late afternoon snacktime. How it can survive paying midtown rents with a 25 hour workweek is beyond me.

But that doesn't detract from its appeal. Would it be nice if it was open late(r) so you could meet someone after work and hang out? Yeah. But during the times that is open, its clean-lined, trendy, upscale atmosphere is a nice place to be. I wish I had the time to sit down an enjoy a meal there.

Macchiato is an espresso bar, but appears to spend more energy on food than on coffee. Its coffees, Danesi brand, are very good and, for those who can afford the time to to stay and enjoy themselves, can be had in a real cup. It serves muffins, croissants, cookies, danishes, bagels, salads, and sandwiches. All of the prices, it should be noted, are comparable, if not higher than Starbucks, its aforementioned most obvious competition. Penny pinchers should look elsewhere for their cheap joe.

Of their food items, I've had their Blueberry Muffin and Cranberry-Walnut Muffin, which were moist and delicious. They charged me extra for butter, but I guess they have to cover rent somehow. I've also tried the Butter Croissant, which has to have been one of the flakiest, sweetest croissants that I've had in a very long time. That's a good thing, but you'll need a plate. No breakfast on the go with these puppies. Too many other places serve them dry and brittle (not the same as flaky) or rubbery. The Egg and Cheese Sandwich, on a ciabatta roll, is PRVixen's breakfast of choice when she wants a Macchiato breakfast, though she wishes that they sold eggs on their own.

On the lunch side of the menu, I'm not a big salad person. But I can't turn down a good sandwich, so one lunch, a co-worker and I went on an sandwich excursion. She ordered the Prosciutto Sandwich and IMed me to tell me that she thought it was "amazing". It comes stuffed with prosciutto de parma, mozzarella, fresh basil, balsamic-dipped tomato, avocado, and an olive tapenade. I ordered the Grilled Chicken Breast Sandwich on whole grain. One of my new favorite sandwiches. The inside is hot and tender with a pesto mayonnaise over lettuce, tomato, sun-dried tomato, and onion. What would turn this sandwich into something really exceptional is some brie.

PRVixen and I found our way back to Macchiato about two hours before writing this paragraph. My choice was the Roast Beef Sandwich. I ordered it because it seemed very similar to a roast beef sandwich offered by Cosi across the street. Arugula, Monterrey jack cheese, and tomato come perched beside the roast beef with a smearing of wasabi mayonnaise. I'll stick to the Cosi version when I want roast beef. Don't think it was bad or anything, but given that it was supposed to be wasabi mayonnaise, I expected some tang, but instead it was tangless and verged on bland. And let's be honest. Can anyone compare to Cosi's bread? I mean, that stuff's like crack. PRVixen chose the Caprese Sandwich, a vegetarian option that filled a baguette with buffalo mozzarella, balsamic-dipped tomato, basil, and an olive tapenade. She loved the olive tapenade, but felt that the rest of the sandwich was merely okay and not something she'd go out of her way again for, saying that she preferred a similar sandwich at Delectica that cost about the same.

With tax, by the way, these sandwiches come within pennies of $10 each.



It would seem that Macchiato is best for European-styled coffee, a trendy atmosphere, and breakfast pastries, but that its sandwiches are hit-or-miss.

I love Coffee and I love Starbucks. I realize that, to many, a review of Starbucks might be no different than a review of McDonalds. After all they're both megachains bent on world domination. But this isn't a review so much as a quick blurb to point out the best Starbucks in NYC that I know of. The Howard Beach Starbucks.

Howard Beach is a tiny residential enclave in Queens with a disproportionate number of grotesque mansions in its upscale parts. There are few useful stores and virtually no decent places to eat. You'd think that since half the cars around here are luxury ones, there'd be restaurants and bistros that would cater to the population, or that since it's right by the water, there'd be some local seafood joints. You'd think that there'd be these little hold-in-the-wall gems. You'd think it, but you'd be wrong. In truth, there's really no reason to ever go here, except, perhaps sadly, the Starbucks. Or maybe some pizza. And after reading that link, maybe not even the pizza.



The great thing about this one, that for me sets it apart from the others here in the city, is the aura. Yeah, it sounds hokey, but it's so calming there. This Starbucks sits along a little inlet lined with yachts and small boats on Cross Bay Boulevard on the way to the Rockaways, so you have this calming water view that, this past summer while I was there, reminded me of being in the Florida Keys (sans palm trees). Unlike most Manhattan Starbuckses, this one is large and spacious. No one's elbows here will be digging into your side as you're sitting at your table.



Plus, there's a lot of seating outside in the fresh sea-air. There's outside seating in front in the shade, on the side along the water, and upstairs on the roof. Definitely a great summer place to chill out. Too bad it's already autumn.





My one complaint is that, like every Starbucks, they don't have any low-carb pastries. Last year I went on a crazy blitz filling out dozens of "tell us what you think" cards each week for about six months asking for some. Alas, I was ignored like the crazy person they clearly thought I was. But that's a company-wide problem in no way associated with this location.

See? Not really a review at all.

DB BISTRO MODERNE

55 West 44th Street

New York, NY 10036

(212) 391-2400

DB WINE BAR & KITCHEN IS NOW DANNY BROWN WINE BAR & KITCHEN.

DB WINE BAR & KITCHEN
104-02 Metropolitan Avenue
Forest Hills, NY 11375
(718) 261-2144

I wouldn't normally write a second review about a restaurant; I'd just write an update to my original one. But this was too good to pass up. This is old news to some, but for the rest of you not in the know, here's the basic storyline: A few months back, celebrity chef and prolific restaurateur Daniel Boulud threatened Danny Brown, owner of a restaurant in Forest Hills, Queens with a lawsuit for using the same introductory initials in his restaurant: "DB". See, Daniel Boulud owns DB Bistro Moderne (DBBM) and Danny Brown owns DB Wine Bar & Kitchen (DBWBK).

Boulud basically alleged that he's so famous and so well-established that anyone out there using those initials was violating his trademark. But going deeper than that, Boulud argued that Brown's use of the initials in lowercase letters where the D and the B were stem-to-stem with each other (db) makes the violation even worse and that he owns even the mere sound of the initials when spoken (dee-bee).

Boulud, I suppose, feared that Brown's restaurant would lure customers there who were under the impression that it was a Boulud proprietorship. Brown's food, which could not possibly be as mouth-wateringly spectacular as Boulud's, would thereby water down Boulud's name. Comparing their respective restaurants to department stores, Boulud likened his to Saks Fifth Avenue and Brown's to Wal-Mart.

Since only someone of questionable character would try to bleed off of someone else's success to avoid having to build a reputation of their own, I figured that the only way for me to really be able to discern whether Danny Brown was leaching off of Daniel Boulud, sucking away his street cred, stealing his customers, and otherwise doing all he could to bleed out the Daniel Boulud machine would be to go both restaurants and try to eat the same exact meal. This proved harder than I initially thought, since they each have rather different menus. DBBM is French. DBWBK is European-influenced American.

But still, one must try, mustn't one?


DB BISTRO MODERNE:

It was Bro's birthday. So I figured it was worth splurging. I actually waited to write a review of DBBM until this time of year so it could be Bro's present (and mine too, kinda). I made reservations and requested a specific table, which I got. So far so good. We were seated promptly and the staff is something I can't complain about. They were very attentive, never arrogant, never vanished if we needed anything, and were never slow. They were always right on the ball. Actually, they looked kinda scared. Like Coach would make them do laps if they made any boo boos.

Side note: I was surprised that on a Saturday night, DBBM never filled up.



The DBBM website has a link that discusses the wonders of the restaurant's design. I didn't visit the back half, but you can see from the photo below (borrowed lovingly from the aforementioned website) that the front half is, in a word, gaudy. The tacky, diner-like menus, bright red walls and ginormous photos of orange sea anemones contrast starkly with the West-Elm-ish clean lines of the tables and the chairs that, for some reason made me think of Volvo headrests.

Since DBBM is supposed to be the more casual, hip, fun sibling to extra-expensive superestaurant Daniel, I was expecting it to be lively. Or at least not as quiet as a tomb. When Bro and I arrived there was some French cocktail music playing, but when the CD tracked out, no one replaced it. I have a tendency to talk too loudly for my own good, and when the couple next to us requested a new table on the other side of the floor, I worried that I was the cause. You can imagine my sigh of relief when I found out minutes later that it was just because making out at dinner is harder when you're sitting across a table from your partner and there are glasses and bread in between you.

The food came like clockwork. Within minutes of sitting down, we were given a bread basket and butter. Actually, it was a silver bread goblet holding a variety of baked moist carbohydrate slices, like pretzel and raisin. Bro liked the breads. I thought they were a little hard. Also to munch on while pondering the menu and waiting for our appetizers once we ordered was a plate of garlic bread chips with an olive pate spread and a small loaf of focaccia. The pate and focaccia were excellent. The bread chips lost points for slicing into the roof of my mouth like stale toast.



For my appetizer, I ordered the Yellowfin Tuna Tartare, a raw tuna dish served with pesto and olives. It was so light that without the pesto it might have floated off the plate. Actually too light for my taste, but still not bad, and I very much recommend it. Bro ordered the Arugula Salad. He initially was put off by the ham cubes and parmesan slices that came perched atop it, but soon sort of learned to enjoy them. That said, he felt it was small and bland. Enjoyable. But bland.

Because Bro and I went for for two very different entrees, we each ordered a glass of wine (about $15 each), rather than split the average $75 bottle. Although that might be seen as a bargain, since at least one bottle went for $6000.

Bro's entree was the Grilled King Salmon. This dish came with fava beans, tomato, and spinach. It was moist and delicious according to Bro. I would have stolen some, but at the time it felt weird to steal a piece off his plate. Later on, when people started talking in the restaurant, I swiped some of his dessert. The only complaint Bro had with this otherwise tasty morsel of Omega-3 laden goodness was that he would have liked a few more vegetables. For my entree I ordered the Hanger Steak, which came with beans, a mini-salad, and an oxtail ragout. The oxtail ragout should have been the entree. It was delicious on its own and without it, the hanger steak would not be receiving the generally positive review it's getting here. The rougout's sauce was the perfect (and necessary) accompaniment to what was basically a tough piece of meat that did not arrive medium-rare the way I ordered it.

Our desserts were excellent. My choice was the Strawberry Trifle. The easiest way to describe this particular dessert is through comparison. You know how at Starbucks there's the refrigerated section that has sandwiches and bottled Frapuccinos? Sometimes in that area is a yogurt cup with layered yogurt and fruit. That's the strawberry trifle. Now just replace the yogurt with ice cream, toss in some whipped cream, a shelf of chocolate, and a dash of heaven. Damn good stuff. Plus I got a coffee. Bro went with the Cherry Profiteroles, a three pillared, multi-layered cherry ice cream dessert. This was also excellent. He also got the Wild Mint Tea. The tea came loose and piping hot in its own teapot.

Bro loved, loved, his mint tea.

DB WINE BAR & KITCHEN:
...well, actually,
DANNY BROWN WINE BAR & KITCHEN:
I've already reviewed DBWBK once before. But I don't want to be lazy and not give something of a description.

One thing to note right upon walking up to DBWBK is that the sign hanging over the street, the one that uses the "db" initials, is gone. Once you get the menu, same thing. No db. Only the business cards retain the logo, and probably not for long. So at this juncture, it would appear that Daniel Boulud got what he wanted. Walking in, the atmosphere is fundamentally different. Where DBBM tries to be the opposite of the opulent, reserved Daniel by being dark and moody and funky and garish, in an almost forced-feeling "look we're wild" sort of way, DBWBK is crisp and clean and comparatively bright. While DBBM was oddly quiet, DBWBK was loud. You could talk and laugh at your own volume without feeling that you might inconsiderately wake up the diners at the next table. There was even music. Though it was practically drowned out by people talking. It felt almost like a Queens Craftbar. Tom Colicchio, you could make some money in this neighborhood.

DBWBK touts itself as a wine bar, so naturally there's a bar to sit at and there are people actually using it, drinking wine, eating food, chilling out. I didn't see any such bar at DBBM. DBWBK has a large wine list and regular wine tastings/parings, but since we only ordered a single glass the last time, I didn't really give the list more than a cursory glance. The wines we ordered were about $8 per glass.

DBWBK did not offer tuna tartare, so appetizer I ordered was the Salmon Tartare. It was very different from the traditional sashimi-on-greens version of a tartare. This dish was a salmon and herb puree served with capers, balsamic vinegar, and a dollop of creme fraiche on top. It was served with those cut-the-roof-of-your-mouth bread chips to spread the tartare on. Tangy. Very very good and far removed from what I was expecting. Bro chose the Endive and Watercress Salad with walnuts, blue cheese, and smoked bacon. This dish he praised far more than the arugula salad he ordered at DBBM, largely because, in his words, "this one has taste". It didn't hurt that, as he remembers it, it was about twice the size.

As at DBBM, my entree at DBWBK was the Hanger Steak. Unlike at DBBM, this one was served far more plainly. Nothing fancy. Just plain ol' grilled served with a red wine shallot butter and a mountain of fries. But it was delicious. Melted in my mouth tender... although the fries were much too salty. Bro again ordered a salmon dish, the Roasted Atlantic Salmon, served in a bowl like bouillabaisse with a saffron clam vinaigrette. Spread on the top of the salmon steak was a green olive and golden raisin tapanade that I personally thought well-complimented the dish. Bro disagreed, preferring DBBM's dish. But Bro also doesn't like olives.

There were no comparable desserts between the two menus, so Bro and I went with our hearts. My pick was the Sweet Crepe, a duo of crepes wrapped around creme fraiche and mixed berry compote served with a healthy dusting of powdered sugar. The crepe was a tad on the spongy side but it was still awfully delish and not so sweet that one would need a slug of coffee between bites. If you like berries and want a light change from the more common heavy chocolate lava cakes that abound on dessert menus, then this is the way to go. Of course, I had a coffee, too. Bro went for the Warm Apple Tart, which pretty much sounds like what it was, a warm apple tart that was served with maple syrup and walnuts. He liked it and said that he'd get it again, but did say that it wasn't all that warm and that the crust was a bit too brittle. "I like it. I don't love it." quoth he. Bro says DBWBK lost the tea-battle for his heart and mind with the Twinnings-in-a-bag mint tea.

The service at DBWBK is both its biggest flaw and one of its greatest draws. The flaw is that there never seemed to be a waiter when you needed one, or one that saw you when you were trying to wave one over (Water? Please? I'm so thirsty). This is most likely a sign that they need to hire another person. The Saturday that this meal was eaten, they were filled to the brim by 8:30. That said, the people who work there were extremely nice and always smiling, as opposed to the stoic and cheerless waiters at DBBM. This is not to say that DBBM's service was poor by any standard. In fact, it was excellent. It was just hollow and soulless.

Our meal here, two appetizers, two glasses of wine, two entrees, two desserts, a coffee, and a tea, plus tax and tip, clocked in at $120.

So who should win? Service is a tie; DBBM's were as punctual as a Swiss watch but just as cold, DBWBK's were warm and friendly, but missing in action too often; Prestige goes to DBBM; Cost goes to DBWBK; Salmon goes to DBBM; Steak goes to DBWBK; Desserts go to DBBM; Appetizers go to DBWBK; Convenience to the average NYer, given subway proximity, goes to DBBM; the restaurant I'd recommend becoming a regular at, even if you have to drive to get there, goes to DBWBK. Luckily for me, I don't have to drive to get there.




Watch out girls...

801 Second Avenue
New York, NY 10017
(212) 878-9600

Dean's location is awesome for me, since it's only a few measley blocks from where I work. If only its food could keep up. Turtle (who lives nearby) and I had been playing phone tag trying to come up with a time and place to grab dinner and hang out. Dean's worked out well since his apartment is down the block and I could expense it on one of my all-too-typical long days.

Deans serves red-sauce, traditional (ie: stereotypical), family-style, Italian food. Spaghetti, lasagna, fettucini, veal and chicken parmesan, et cetera. There's a great big pizza oven in the back. In your mind's eye, picture a mobster with a napkin tucked into his collar. Whatever he's eating, they serve. Someone's grandma showed up with a binder of family recipes and that's what the cooks use.

The radio, when it's on, seems to exclusively play Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra. Although I do seem to recall hearing some Ella Fitzgerald. The walls are lined with Rat Pack photos. But actually, that's the extent of the kitch. Could I do without Frank and Dean and other singers crooning in my ear? Yeah. Plus, there are some flat-screen televisions on the wall playing sports or news, which I think it pretty tacky. But other than that, the rest of the place has a very clean-lined, modern feel to it. It's dimly lit but not in a bad way. There's a second floor that partially overhangs the first floor. It's a simple space, but actually could be pretty cool.

The service certainly can't be faulted. Everyone from the maitre d' to the waiters to the water guy were all nice and attentive and never in your face.

But the food. So the first time I went, to my dismay, Turtle ended up ordering the same exact thing I did: Lasagna. I love lasagna, but it's very hard to find a really good one. I'm so often disappointed, and this time proved no exception. Maybe it's because my dad makes the best lasagna I've ever had and probably ever will have. Deans' lasagna came out dry and burned. Turtle told me that he ordered it all the time, loved it, and said that I couldn't go wrong. He was embarrassed when the bitter, tomato-y brick was served to us and asked that I not judge the place on that specific days faulty food. Naturally, I had to return.

So we came back. I asked him not to, but he ordered the lasagna again. And yes, it was better, but not amazing. While he liked it, and maybe you will, too, I have to rank it as just average. For an appetizer, Turtle got Mozzarella Caprese, a mozzarella dish with pesto, garlic, olives, and roasted red peppers. I didn't get around to trying it, but he thought it was very good. My choice was one of my favorite Italian standards, Fried Calamari. Alas, it was just mediocre. Not that it was bad, just excessively breaded and not tender enough. Finally, I ordered Chicken Marsala for my entree. It followed the example set by it fried calamari predecessor and was too tough, too bland, and even though it was coated in a mushroom gravy, too dry.

The thing about family-style restaurants in general, and Dean's in particular, is that there's no feeling that the food was made for you because you ordered it. It feels like it was made in bulk hours ago between the lunch and dinner crunches and then spooned onto your plate. I don't normally give bad reviews, so if anyone reading this has been there and I simply went on two off days in a row, let me know what you ate.

For the record, I'll be heading back, gambler that I am, for a third time at some point in the near future to try my luck yet again. But no more lasagna.

The second meal, which came with two appetizers, two entrees, and two sodas (no dessert), plus tax, excluding tip, cost $49.85.