e a t e r y R O W

432 East 9th Street
New York, NY 10009
212-254-2263

There are two reasons that Americans (or at least I) have the stereotypical impression that Italian restaurants come pre-equipped with red-checkered tablecloths, Chianti-bottle-candelabras thickly coated in wax, a pizza oven in back, and Frank Sinatra playing overhead. Reason one is the media. You just can't escape the image. Reason two is that half of them are actually like this. I Coppi isn't (though it does have pizza).

I Coppi was initially suggested by Bossette, and how does one argue with someone I give that kind of name to? I Coppi is her favorite Italian restaurant and for the past month she'd raved about it. I began to fear that she'd blown it so out of proportion that for sure it would suck by the time I got there. As it turned out, I had nothing to fear but fear itself. She, me, Pike, and Swordsman, co-workers we four, journeyed downtown to the East Village.

I Coppi is a small place, much like most East Village restaurants, with about fifteen or so tables inside. Out back, though, is a large garden area that I took a quick peek at. It appeared to have heaters for cold evenings, but they weren't on this night and we ate inside. It's probably more of a fall thing. The interior, with its bare brick walls peppered with terra cotta reliefs, plants, and subdued but not too dim lighting was probably just as pretty. So no loss.

As was pointed out by Pike, every good diner knows that you always order the second-cheapest bottle of wine. So we got a nice, not-too-cheap-but-not-gonna-embarrass-you bottle of Chianti, and by the end of the evening polished off two of them. The menu at I Coppi is a mid-priced one, but the wines can get expensive quickly. They start at $30 and average around $60, but go up to $1200. So watch out. When we asked what a good bottle of Chainti was, the response was "Tell me your budget first". Never a good sign... or maybe always a good one (perspective and all). As she was pouring the wine I think the waitress said something to the effect of "see, for a moderate price, you can get a great wine. Well, not a great one, but pretty good." I was half expecting her to go on "well, decent anyway. Okay, this particular wine is plonk. But if you're gonna drink plonk, this THIS is the plonk to drink." I think we ordered the second bottle half out of spite. The other half was because there were four of us and we wanted to lay around the shanty, mama, and get a good buzz on.

The service fluctuated between good and weak. Good, in that the waitress certainly seemed to know what she was talking about and made recommendations that were right on the money. On the other hand, she was also somewhat impatient. On the one hand, she took away one of our bottles of wine before we'd finished. On the other hand, she gave us each a free glass of Vin Santo at dessert. Can't argue with that.

For starters, Swordsman and I ordered the Minestre Ceci, a chickpea soup with sage and tomato. It was pretty good, but they loaded on the salt like you wouldn't believe. Way too much, and Swordsman, who loved the soup, agreed that it was noticeably high. Bossette and Pike decided to split the Sformato Di Spinaci E Ricotta, a dome-shaped spinach casserole served with a tomato, basil and olive oil sauce. This is a love it or hate it dish which I was oddly indifferent to, but which Bossette and Pike were on the love side. You have to enjoy the custardy texture of creamy spinach and ricotta, and they did.

To my dismay, I was the only one at the table who ordered something that was actually on the menu. This will force me to return later (not a problem, I assure you) to make a more reader-friendly review. Swordsman and Pike both picked a special. The Seafood Ravioli Special. The raviolis were few in number but large in size, about three plus inches square. We were told what the seafood inside was, but I didn't write it down, not thinking anyone would order it. Silly me. Pike ordered his in the initially recommended cream sauce. Swordsman, who avoids both cheese and cream despite not being lactose intolerant ordered it in the alternative tomato with meat sauce. Since we all shared bites of eachothers' dishes, I can attest that both variations of the dish were excellent. And I don't even like seafood ravioli.

Bosette's entree was a little more complicated. See, she started with something that was actually on the menu. But the thing is, she has this soft spot for I Coppi's gnocchi and wanted to substitute it instead of tagliatelle. However, she was told that because the original dish had a creamy bolognese sauce, this would make the gnocchi too soggy. So she wound up with the server-recommended, custom-conceived Gnocchi in a Tomato Meat Sauce. Despite not being something she initially wanted to order, this dish was probably the best of the four. The sauce was perfect and the gnocchi melted in your mouth like it was half pasta, half ghost.

I ordered the Stufato Di Cinghiale Con Polenta, a wild boar stew served over a bed of polenta. This was delicious, though a skidge fatty. If you like meat-only stews and want something a little less common but with a lot of flavor, then you're going to love this. My only complaint was that it was, like my soup, on the salty side, though not nearly to same degree.

Come dessert time, we went for splitting two of them. First up, we chose the Torta Al Cioccolato, a chocolate cake with whipped cream. This was good, but everyone agreed that it was too dry and dense. Though if memory serves, it was finished off anyway. Bossette recommended the Tiramisu, which she said caused her to faint the first time she tried it. I love tiramisu and how could I vote against something faintworthy? And I can say without hesitation that I think she actually might have fainted. It was probably the best tiramisu I've ever had. I kid thee not. Pike and I also got some coffees and recall that the waitress comped us dessert wine.

HANE SUSHI
346 First Avenue
New York, NY 10009
212-598-9889

Since the Rents paid for the last few outings, the time had, unfortunately, come for the favor's return. DudeMan has an aversion to travelling more than a few blocks for his caloric intake, so it meant staying within the old hood. One of the newest arrivals in this nameless place between east Midtown and the East Village, between Gramercy and the balmy depths of the landing pad we call the East River is Hane, a Japanese restaurant with roots about two miles uptown.

Hane was packed and we had to be seated in the uncool, darker rear. So we four: Me, Bro, DudeMan and Shrink immediately got into an argument (or as I call them, stern debates) about why we didn't just wait. 'Cause we were hungry, that's why. I guess it doesn't really matter, but I wanted to take better photos. Luckily for us and the tables nearby, Hane managed to soothe our savage beasts... with their two-for-one alcohol list. That's right. If you order one beer, you get a free refill. You order sake, you get a free refill. You order wine, you get a free refill. So, of course, we ordered some beer, sake, and wine. And then later on, filled up again. The way to someone's heart may be through their stomach, but the way to their wallet is through their liver.

DudeMan and I started out with some pre-appetizer courses, out of sheer hunger I assure you. This is what happens when you look at a menu on an empty stomach. You order way more than you rightly should. I like to think of the Miso Soup I got as my breakfast. This way I don't have to feel quite so guilty. There's something about walking around in the frigid cold (this evening it was around 25 degrees out) that makes you really want a nice hot soup. This miso soup was that nice hot soup. The soup itself, besides being piping hot, was damn good. Not too thin and not too salty. DudeMan got a Kelp Salad, which I thought would taste like a salty, rotting compost, but actually tasted like sesame noodles. I'm not saying I loved it, but it wasn't bad.

For our actual appetizers, I ordered Ika Yaki, broiled squid with the "chef's special sauce," a sauce similar to the eel sauce you find on sushi. It was large and I liked it, but it was admittedly somewhat rubbery. DudeMan and Shrink were less than impressed. DudeMan ordered Shrimp Tempura, two large, batter-fried shrimp. How could you not like fried shrimp? You can't. It's physically impossible. There are people out there with shrimp allergies who would die if they ate this thing, and even they like it. Shrink's appetizer was the Pork Gyoza, pork dumplings. These were pretty good fried dumpling with a dipping sauce. I liked them. So did she. Finally, Bro ordered Shrimp Shumei, boiled pork dumplings that we pretty much all thought were too bland for their own good.

For dinner, Bro and I went for a some rolls. He chose the Salmon Avocado Roll , the Negihamachi Maki, a scallion and yellowtail roll, and the Sweet Potato Tempura Roll. He liked all of them and so did I. I was surprised at two things. First, that I enjoyed the vegetarian sweet potato rolls, and second, that Bro ordered the sushi rolls at all. See, Bro has an aversion to raw stuff that ain't salad... or a raw bar. I ordered the Dragon Roll, which is eel wrapped in avocado and topped with roe (see above). These are always good, and this was no exception. In fact, I seem to get it constantly. It's probably the least healthy roll out there, other than the Rainbow Dragon Roll, which has shrimp tempura mixed in. I also ordered the Spicy Tuna Roll and a Philadelphia Roll. And yeah, I know that Philadelphia rolls aren't Japanese. Not really, anyway. But they're just so damn good. I don't think anything with cream cheese can taste bad.

DudeMan and Shrink are both opposed to raw fish, though to their credit they did try each of the rolls we ordered. DudeMan ordered the Sha-Cha Jumbo Prawns, grilled shrimp in a Japanese barbecue sauce, pan-fried with spinach noodles, a delicious dish if you like something Japanese that almost feels Italian. Tangy and tender. Shrink ordered the Seafood Combination Platter, a mix of broiled shrimp, scallops, squid, and whitefish in a butter and teriyaki sauce. All the the seafood that was combined in this platter were very good, with the exception of the scallops, which I don't like in any dish whatsoever. Don't let my personal preference on that dissuade you from ordering them. Shrink finished it all off, but skipped the dark green vegetable sides. When I was growing up, if I didn't want my dinner, she would never say "just finish your vegetables". It was always "just finish your meat". She was probably the only parent outside of a third-world country to say that. But I guess there are always multivitamins, right?

The staff at Hane were very nice. And how can you complain when you pay for four drinks, but get eight? Even though we sat in the darker rear section, the atmosphere is bright. Usually, inexpensive Japanese restaurants are pretty stale. They're either simple, boring sushi bars who exist merely to doll out rice-wrapped raw fish, or they're simple, boring restaurants that went overboard on the bamboo theme (they must all order decor from the same catalog). Not Hane. Up front are blinking multi-colored lights in an atmosphere so laden with faux marble that one almost has to laugh at how over-the-top it is. To top it off, around in the rear of the restaurant, where we sat because they ran out of front tables, is this bizarre Greek theme (see an example below).

But that just adds to the fun of the place.

New York Magazine just profiled a tiny little takeout-only place a few blocks from where I live called Tokyo Teriyaki. They have a hot dog roll and a Spam roll. They sound vile, but are apparently pretty good. I therefore think that Hane here should try a gyro roll. Lamb meat and cucumber, wrapped in rice and topped with a drizzling of tzatziki sauce. Actually, that sounds pretty good.

So, two large Sapporos, two hot sakes, two cold sakes, two glasses of plum wine, one soup, one salad, four appetizers, two entrees, and six rolls came out to $147 including tax and tip.

Also, you better like chopsticks. There aren't any forks and knives here. Extra points.

71 IRVING PLACE COFFEE & TEA BAR
71 Irving Place
New York, NY 10003
212-995-5252

If you're like me and had just polished off two massive bottles of Sapporo, had eaten way more than the legal limit of sushi, and found yourself wandering in Gramercy, then you'd have found yourself drinking coffee at 71 Irving Place way later than anyone in their right mind should be drinking coffee.

For the record, I was not drunk. Just vaguely bored. Here I was, a 20-something on a Friday night with no date and no plans to stay up late. Lucky me. Should I have chased sushi with coffee? Probably not. Should I have had coffee so close to the start of the next day? Probably not. Nevertheless, there I was. So I wandered into 71 Irving Place to kill some time.

71 was packed with other 20-somethings studying or chilling with friends. There was a very college cafe feeling to the place that night. And that's a complete contrast from when I'd been here in the past. The last time, for instance, everyone was in their forties. Maybe it was professors' night. It goes to show that you shouldn't have preconceived expectations about things.

Having been to plenty of other coffee bars, there's something quaint about 71. Brooklyn's Tea Lounge, which is great, is like a dorm building lounge with it's large sofas, worn tables and everyone working on laptops or reading. Midtown's Macchiato is ultra trendy. Queens' Theater Cafe is like a European sidewalk cafe. Alphabet City's Alt Coffee, which is now closed (shock of shocks), was like drinking coffee in a homeless shelter.

But 71, being right at the sub-sidewalk level of a nineteenth century brownstone, is very residential Manhattan. I can picture Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks here, sitting in one of the few seats outside, in a warm argument. It's homey. But maybe I say that because I grew up around here and homey means brownstones, tree-lined streets, middle-aged ladies walking small dogs, and terrible parking.

71 has a rather large menu. In the morning, you can order breakfasts like eggs, bagels, granolas and waffles. During the day they make sandwiches like black forest ham, turkey, Tuscan chicken, Genoa salami, and egg salad, as well as a range of paninis. There are also a variety of quiches and salads. This late at night, though, no one was eating unless it was dessert. Their desserts aren't static, but this time they had pecan bars, Oreo cheesecake bars, red velvet cupcakes, apple strudels, and Brooklyn Blackout cake, which looked like the chocolate cake to end all chocolate cakes.

Of course, since this is a coffee bar (coffee and tea bar), you have plenty of hot and cold drink options, too, from lattes to cappuccinos to chais to hot apple ciders to plain ol' milk. I had plain ol' coffee.

LEGAL SEA FOODS
4304 Palisades Center Drive
Palisades Center Mall
West Nyack, NY 10994
845-353-5757

I didn’t think I’d be reviewing a chain quite so soon after my foray into the genre with P.F. Chang’s, but Bro and I were shopping at Woodbury Commons and were hungry on ye olde trippe home. Passing Palisades Mall is usually preferable to shopping there, but as it happens, that’s one of the homes of the Legal Sea Foods restaurant clan.

I had first been to Legal on a trip to Boston with my ex-girlfriend and since then I’d been waiting for one to open in the Big Apple. Alas, it never happened, and Legal has apparently resigned itself to be mall-o-centric. Although disappointing, I guess that it’s their choice. But did they have to pick that mall? Ugh. Huge though it may be, it’s probably the least attractive mall in the whole NY area. Anyway.

We went on a Sunday, so Bro and I were able to get a table right away. The paper placemats that tell “The Legal Legend” and explain “The Legal Difference”, with a great big timeline of the history of the chain (“The Legal Time Wave”) presume a cheapness that immediately gets quashed once you open the menu and read the cost of each dish, which hover around $25 per entrée. At least the warm rolls were free.

Since my trademark smart-assed sarcasm was blatantly present with my tirade against crazy-crap-on-the-walls restaurants in the P.F. Chang’s review, I feel it necessary to mention the Legal Sea Foods decorations. Legal’s walls were hardly blank, but there was at least some uniformity. Prints of ships, sea charts, large models of schooners and whalers, and mounted marlins were ever present. This is far removed and far more classy that the Red Lobster décor of lobster traps, nets everywhere, buoys, boats, and life preservers stuffed into every blank spot of wall space, leaving no nook or cranny free from clutter. And I like Red Lobster, blasphemous though some foodies may tell me that is.

In fact, Legal’s décor is busier but classier than that of the City Crab & Seafood Company, which welcomes patrons with a massive fake crab hanging from the ceiling… though City Crab has a raw bar. And that’s hard to beat.

To start, Bro and I opted for bowls of soup. Bro chose a New England Clam Chowder. If a seafood place can’t get the clam chowder right, it probably can’t get much else right, either. But they got it right, though I would have preferred less potato. Thick and chunky and smooth, but not pasty and gloppy. I got a Lobster Bisque. Large chunks of lobster came in the dry bowl and the waiter poured the bisque over the lobster. Some fresh cracked pepper later and I wasn’t cold inside anymore. It was delicious, but I thought I wee bit thin.

Bro’s entrée was the Red Onion Jam Swordfish, a swordfish steak served under a glazing of red onion with a rice pilaf, sautéed sherry mushrooms and spinach. The swordfish itself was very good, as was the spinach, but the rice pilaf was a bit dry and the mushrooms were undercooked by a few minutes. That may seem minor, but it was a noticeable taste. My entrée was the Nutty Wild Salmon, a salmon fillet under a lemon caper butter sauce and topped with shredded almonds. This was excellent. It came with a side of spinach, which was a tad salty, and was supposed to come with a side of mushroom ravioli. Unfortunately, they were out of the mushroom ravioli and substituted butternut squash. It was good, but disappointing when compared with the salmon.

Legal’s dessert selection was pretty standard stuff, with cheesecake, key lime pie, chocolate cake, ice cream, etc., but Bro and I weren’t feeling in the dessert mood and stuck to just having some coffees. Normally, your coffees arrive with a variety of pastel-bagged sweeteners. This time, when Bro asked for sugar, four packets, all lonely, came delivered on their own plate, as if rationed. As if one of Jerry’s V1s hit a supply train. Bro said he almost felt guilty only using two and leaving the remaining two with even fewer sugar packet friends to talk to.

NEW LEAF CAFE
1 Margaret Corbin Drive
Fort Tryon Park
New York, NY 10040
212-568-5323

Two hundred years after we fought a losing battle against a mercenary army on the hills of what is now Fort Tryon Park, New Yorkers realised that they were fighting a losing battle against disrepair. Not about to lose twice, forces rallied again and took the high ground. Twenty years later, one result is the reclaimed Fort Tryon Park. The Cloisters is here, as is the restaurant, the New Leaf Cafe, founded and run by one of the park's benefactors, the New York Restoration Project.

If you've ever been to colonial Virginia, you'll understand what I mean when I say that the New Leaf cafe oozes a colonial feeling. The building in which the restaurant sits was built in the 1930s, but reminds me of the kind of place that a Revolutionary War general might take up residence in, with it's high wooden ceilings and stone walls. The menu, with the exception of one oddball sashimi appetizer, is pretty much straight-up traditional American with the occasional twist. Even the smokehouse smell of the place takes you into another time. And, of course, it doesn't hurt that you're in the most remote place Manhattan has to offer, surrounded by acres of trees on a winding, narrow road high above the bustling never-sleeping city.

That said, the New Leaf Cafe ain't quiet. Immediately upon walking in, a live jazz band was playing and I had to yell my name to the hostess so she could check me off the reservation list. Even though Bro and Shrink and I were thankfully seated in the quieter rear dining area, we still practically had to yell across the table to talk to each other. New Leaf makes TGI Fridays look reserved. And that's good. This isn't some stodgy place you take grandma.

Once we ordered our drinks (some oatmeal stouts and a raspberry lambic), a waiter appeared with raisin bread and butter. It was great bread, but the bread guy never appeared again. A single tear. Anyway.

Bro and Shrink shared the Crispy Calamari appetizer: deep fried calamari with a mint cilantro chutney. I really liked stealing them off the plate. They were extremely light and tender. And while I don't think of dipping calamari in cilantro, it worked very well and added to the lightness of the dish. Bro and Shrink felt that it was too salty, and while I didn't think that the salting was excessive, they absolutely used the word excessive. My appetizer was the Homemade Ricotta Cheese Ravioli. Since I was eating off their plate, I guess it was only fair that Bro and Shrink each took one of my raviolis, which were universally praised. They were extremely tender without being doughy. The heirloom tomato and olive oil sauce that they were in added to a sharp tanginess that I just loved. Order this.

People with limited palates be forewarned: this is not a vegetarian-friendly restaurant unless you like eating your friend's side dishes or don't much mind hunger pangs. The menu is very small and eclectic. The only entree you could pick from (there's no pasta here) is the Daily Market Vegetable Plate. I have no idea what that is, I didn't ask, and it doesn't even have a description on the menu, so...

Bro ordered the Duet of Pork. This dish, pictured below, is sort of a quartet of pork, or maybe two duets of pork. There were two main pork dishes, each with two cuts from that wonderful, magical animal. Pork loin wrapped in bacon and pork belly topped with pork rind, served alongside baby turnips and a celeriac puree in an apple cider reduction. Okay, obviously the pork wrapped in bacon tasted good, but I just can't get into the pork rind thing. Even the thought of chowing down on crunchy fat makes me feel guilty. As for the belly, it wasn't what I was expecting at all. First off, it's very fatty. In fact, it's practically all fat. But it tastes like meat that just dissolves the instant it hits your tongue. Very good, and according to the waiter, smoked there at the restaurant. That smokiness takes you right back to redcoat days. Though it's not something I'd recommend a steady diet of unless you're on Atkins or looking for a way to boost your sagging cholesterol level.

Shrink went with the Pan Seared Atlantic Salmon, which was served medium rare with risotto, trumpet mushrooms and morel mushrooms. This was my least favorite dish of the evening. I can't really explain why since I don't think it was cooked poorly. I guess it was just the most bland of everything we ordered. Still, she liked it and there was nothing left for the waiter to have to clean up at the end of the meal. So what do I know? I went for the Free Range Chicken, a huge, crispy-skinned breast peppered with hunks of kosher salt and served with a walnut-fig wild rice, whole mushrooms and a mix of blackberries and blueberries. For once, I feel like I got the best entree. First, I couldn't believe the size. Most other restaurants of this caliber would have given half as much, and actually, I couldn't finish it. But everything was delicious and complimented that traditional American feeling.

Like the dinner menu, the dessert menu is equally small, and really made up mostly of dinner drinks. Not really the type to load up on the booze before driving home, I got a coffee. So did Shrink. Bro got a Darjeeling tea. He followed it up with the Molton Chocolate Cake with ice cream and half of a poached pear. Everyone liked the cake and the ice cream. No one really cared for the poached pear. I split the New York Cheesecake with Shrink. It was creamy, smooth, and topped with a blackberry compote, then dusted quite generously with powdered sugar. Good stuff.

Two appetizers, three entrees, three beers, two desserts, two coffees and a tea, plus tax and tip wound up costing us $190.27.

P.F. CHANG'S CHINA BISTRO
The Westchester
125 Westchester Avenue
White Plains, NY 10601
914-997-6100

I wasn't initially going to include any national chain restaurants in my blog. I saw them as too commercial. I pictured their chefs designing the menu in a lab somewhere far, far away and I saw that menu being subject to a bland, generic focus group to ensure maximum profitability. Finally, I figured that there are so many chain restaurants, and they all serve variations on the same food, that it seemed pointless to review them. If I've eaten at Chili's, then I've eaten at On The Border. If I've eaten at Outback, then I've eaten at Bugaboo Creek. And why worry about these behemoths when there are plenty of small little guys who probably serve way better stuff that no one hears about?

Then I started thinking. There are a handful of chain restaurants that don't feel like a chain (and when I say chain, I mean a place that has a whole bunch of locations numerous states). They don't have big glossy menus with exciting photos of the food you could be ordering. They don't put advertisements in their menu (I'm looking at you Cheesecake Factory... tsk, tsk, very low class). They don't line every part of usable space with banners from the local high school or college, giant fish nets, blinking stop lights, neon signs, traffic cones, giant singing moose heads... In short, they aren't Chotchkies. In the words of the indefatigable Moe:

So where to start with the non-crazy-crap-on-the-wall chain restaurants? Well, I happened to be at The Westchester in White Plains with Bro where there's a PF Chang's. How about there?

PF Chang's feels like a restaurant that should be far more expensive than it is, even though it's a casual place. It's extremely low lit. Actually, the lighting is so low that I'm glad every table had a candle, if just to read the menu. The bathroom's even darker. You sit down at dark wood tables or booths and eat with black chopsticks (or utensils if you suck). You're seated by a waiter or waitress wearing all black. You wipe your mouth with a cloth napkin which is also black. Are we seeing a theme?

From what little you can see, you'll notice that there's an Imperial Chinese concept vaguely tossed into the design. Above where we sat is a huge mural of faux-ancient design. Lining one wall are miniature warrior statues. But they don't go overboard. There's only just enough Chinese theme to give an Asian impression, which is, coincidentally, exactly like the food.

Here's the thing about the menu. It's Chinese, I suppose, but it's been watered down to such a degree that you can barely tell. It's like saying that eating a Dominos Brooklyn Style Pizza is like eating a pizza in Brooklyn.

Bro and I started off with the eternal favorite, Wonton Soup. In addition to the wontons, the soup had mushrooms, chicken, chard leaves and shrimp. The soup was pretty good, but too bland. The broth was just too thin. Additionally, Bro and I both thought that the shrimp didn't really work very well. That said, they give you a bucket of the soup. I'm not kidding. We got at least a liter and a half. Half of it's sitting in my fridge as I'm writing this and we had four bowls of it.

For an appetizer, I ordered the Peking Dumplings. I got four of them. You can choose boiled or fried, so I asked for two boiled and two fried. Again, while they were okay, they seemed somewhat more bland than what I'm used to. Bro ordered the Crab Wontons, which were deep-fried and served with a thick crab puree inside and a plum dipping sauce. I really did not like them, but Bro really did. This dish, I guess, is a toss up.

By this point, I was so full that I was on the verge of exploding at the table. Still, entrees were en route, so I had to suck up the pain and have a few bites before getting it boxed up. Bro, to my surprise, was not nearly as stuffed as me, despite being a smaller dude.

I ordered the Mongolian Beef, strips of beef in a sweet garlicky sauce, stir-fried with scallions. This was pretty good and I can honestly say I liked it. My only complaint was that the scallions weren't cooked enough. But other than that, I'm looking forward to the leftovers I have waiting next to the wonton soup. Bro ordered Tam's Noodles with Savory Beef and Shrimp. This was a spicy stir-fry of beef, shrimp, some vegetables and whatever Tam's noodles are supposed to be. They're very thick slices of doughy dough that the menu referred to as gnocchi-like. Either way, Bro wiped his plate clean... with the exception of the noodles, which I think he had two of before pushing them to the side. So was it good? Well, maybe you can exercise your right to a food based line-item-veto. Good dish; veto the noodles.

We did not get dessert, even though there were a few that looked pretty good. So what was the damage? Three appetizers, two entrees, and two bottomless sodas, plus tax and tip, burned us out of $62.86. Not bad.

So that was the first chain restaurant review. But for some reason, it was more fun than I thought it'd be, and I don't feel like a sellout at all. Ahhh... breath that non-sellout air. Crisp. So where next? Who knows. Smith and Wollensky? Legal Sea Food? We'll see.

548 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10016
(212) 679-0442

The temperature was somewhere hovering near ten degrees. When it's that cold, the only thing on any sane foodie's mind is "where's the chicken soup?" Sure, you could go for The Original Soup Man or Hale and Hearty for if you really crave your soups overpriced and oversalted. But I was in the mood for something more... traditional. Not just any traditional, New York traditional. And that means a matzo ball soup. A buddy of mine, Pike, suggested Sarge's, and the next thing I know I'm outside braving the wind sans earmuffs or hat.

Sarge's is an old-school Jewish deli with Tiffany-esque lamps adorning the ceiling and lots of dark wood. It even smells of deli. And I don't mean Blimpie or that place you get your sandwich. I mean it smells like a deli. The smell permeates every pore of the place, from the glass counter when you walk in, to the leather booths in the back. Ahhhhhhh. You know the smell. As I said, Sarge's is a Jewish deli. The best kind of Jewish deli. The kind that serves bacon and cheese. You can also tell a good deli by the age of the people in there. At Sarge's, Pike and I were easily the youngest people here. Most of the others were right about ready to kick.

The first thing you get when you sit down is a bowl of cole slaw and pickles. Sour or half sour. I prefer the half sour. We got some sodas.

As I said, it was witch's tit cold out there and soup was a necessity. Matzo Ball Soup, specifically. So that's what I got. Oh damn was that good. I ordered a cup's worth, which means you basically get a matzo ball in a cup with just enough broth to keep it wet. The ball's the meal, the soup's the gravy. Pike ordered Chicken Noodle Soup, which was pretty simply chicken noodle soup. He liked it, but I wasn't about to have him serve me a spoonful to make sure he wasn't lying.

Pike and I both went for the Twin Double lunch special, which allows you to try two sandwiches and a soup. Plus, even though we missed the lunchtime hours, we were still given the lunchtime price. Pike ordered the Pastrami Sandwich and the Corned Beef Sandwich. He loved them. Loved. He says he orders them every time, which I learned was true when, the day after this first visit, he ordered them again. Personally, I'm not a big fan of corned beef (I find it too salty), but that's just my (albeit very important) opinion. I did like the pastrami though.

My sandwiches were the Roast Turkey Sandwich and the Roast Beef Sandwich. The roast beef sandwich was awesome, especially if you like your roast beef so rare it bleeds into the bread. But the roast turkey was way too dry. Way too dry. I had to lather on mayo and mustard with each bite just so I could swallow, and that's no good. It isn't helped by the fact that none of the sandwiches come with lettuce and tomato.

The next day, we ordered in rather than go out to get lunch and Pike once again ordered his double sandwich meal with chicken noodle soup. I had to try something different. So I went for Sarge's Favorite, a hot open-faced beef brisket sandwich with gravy, horseradish, a potato pancake and applesauce. Ohhhh, that was good. But I don't even want to imagine the calories and fat of that thing. It's been hours since I ate it and I'm still full.

Expect to pay anywhere from $15 to $20 for an average lunch. I can't speak for the dinner cost.