By Adam Janos

“Not to burn the kebab, not to burn the stick,” Beka Peradze, co-owner of new restaurant Oda House (76 Avenue B), explains. It’s an old idiom from his native land, the Republic of Georgia, a nation of 4.5 million in the central Asian Caucasus.
It’s hard to say what Peradze exactly means by this (out of the frying pan and into the fire, perhaps?), but it seems fitting that the idiom is both cryptic and tied to food, as Georgia’s rich culinary tradition remains largely a mystery to the average New Yorker’s palette. Oda House, which opened on May 5th, is the brainchild Beka’s stepmother, Maia Acquaviva; together, they run the place. Acquavia is a native Georgian who came to New York in 2007, and – after attending culinary school – served as an executive chef at a Russian Restaurant on East 20th Street called Mari Vanna.
Not that Russian and Georgian cuisine are anything alike.
“It’s big different,” Acquavia said. “Georgian cuisine is rich: rich with everything. I could not say same with Russian cuisine. They not have so much herbs, meat products.”
Georgia, in contrast, was perfectly situated to take advantage of the rich trade that came through the Silk Road, a network of trade routes dating back to the first millennium that linked Europe and East Asia.
“We use a lot of fresh things: so many herbs: tarragon, mint, cilantro, parsley, scallions, garlic… and it’s makes our dishes so flavorful. It’s different; there’s a freshness that makes our cuisine different.”
At Oda House, Acquavia is hoping to use those flavors to create a menu that’s elegant, exotic, and inspiring. Aside from her set menu, which includes her favorite dish (Chakapuri: a slow-cooked lamb with tarragon, mint, scallions and white wine, served with Georgian bread), the chef is preparing specials every week. This week, she’ll be serving chicken roulade with vegetables, and a cold zucchini in a white sauce with tarragon and mint. As the weather continues to warm, she’ll start preparing cold savory soups.
Along with the Georgian food, Acquavia and her staff of eight (seven Georgians, one Latino) hope to familiarize New Yorkers with all aspects of Georgian culture. They have live music every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, in which a duo plays Georgian folk tunes on the doli (hand drum) and the phanduri (traditional fretted string instrument).
“And we want to start next week, Thursday evening, we want to make Gypsy evening because we know these people very well,” Acquavia says. “And maybe from Monday until Wednesday: she’s very famous singer, Georgian, now in United States: Nini.”
“She’s gonna be in U.S. X-Factor,” Peradze added. “She been through three auditions already, now she go for judges like Simon… she won Greek X-Factor.”
There’s a saying in Georgia: if you ask a Georgian for water, they give you wine. Acquavia says that why she opened a restaurant, and why she wants to bring people into her business.
“‘Oda’ means your own home,” Acquavia explained. “Your family home. Your grandmother’s home. In old Georgian language, Oda means this one. It’s the old word for ‘house’. Your house. I want everyone who comes here feel like they’re home.”
“We’re little people, just 4.5 million,” Acquavia said about Georgia. “But we are very friendly. For us, family is much important. We are religious people, Orthodox. We religious, but never have Antisemitism in Georgia. Never, ever. Jewish, Muslims, Christians: they live like brothers together. I’m so happy because we’re so friendly. I’m proud of this, because it’s a different genetic.”
“People say: today’s egg is better than tomorrow’s chicken,” Peradze added. Enjoy the things you have in front of you. Eat Georgian food in New York’s melting pot, where the old world comes to begin anew.

By Elian Zach

As the summer approaches, my coffee consumption habits usually shift from hot and comforting to cold and refreshing. Since both my lactose intolerance and passion for prancing around in skimpy clothing won’t facilitate devilishly creamy/sugary/swirly drinks, I usually settle for a good dose of caffeine on ice. However, someone needs to face the giant purple elephant in the room and state the obvious: coffee isn’t America’s forte.

Giovanni Finotto at I am coffee

Italians, on the other hand, know good coffee, and Giovanni Finotto, 26, the owner of the new East Village Artisan Espresso Bar, I am coffee, is a coffee professor. I paid Giovanni a visit on a Monday, the day the tiny shop is always closed, for a very informal interview about what makes his coffee so incredible.
To get an authentic experience, read this interview in a dashing Italian accent.

What made you start I am coffee?
My brother and I wanted to start a project involving the Italian food tradition. Something very different than what already existed, more complete in a way, which focuses on one product. This time it was coffee, and for that we traveled all around Italy to find the families of artisans, who have carried the tradition for generations. They are the only real access to what the product used to be back in the day, before the industry mystification that gave birth to the coffee counter-culture.The new model of espresso is all about the thickness of the foam and density of the espresso.
Going back to the roots.
Yes. That’s why it’s called I am coffee, implying that it is the original. Changing people’s perspective is tough, but it’s mostly about education. In Italy, people think they know what real coffee should taste like, but here in New York, the culinary capital of the world, people are more open to being reeducated.
So how did you find out all the real coffee secrets?
We traveled around Italy for two years. My brother, Nicola, managed to convince these artisans to share their techniques, the most precious thing they had, with us. We explained that this project was a platform that every artisan could pour his knowledge into and get unique access to the entire culture. Every input that goes into this platform is checked to be 100 percent authentic for that reason.
What’s essentially different about what you do versus what everyone else does?
First we wanted to know what were the first identities of the espresso, cappuccino, latté macchiato, etc. when they were invented. What was the technique used. For instance, we found that what we called “cappuccino” today was very different from what it used to be. Only one guy we met during our trip knew the original technique of making a cappuccino. As you will notice, our cappuccino is monophasic, meaning it has a single texture and density, rather than milk and foam. It’s all one cream. These days the focus has shifted from the tradition to the visual appeal. They wanted it to look sexier, that’s how latté art was invented. It compromises the identity of the product and is completely wrong. That’s just one example but there are many.

Can’t you see it as the evolution of coffee rather than a counter-culture?
It can be. But if you change the identity of the original, you get a completely different product, so you should give it a different name. Otherwise, you lose a tradition, a culture, and the history behind it.

By Adam Janos

It was 86 degrees and humid, and the competitors stood, stone-faced, at the sun-drenched dais. Five gladiators, their arms locked military-style behind their backs, waited as the announcer counted down from ten, the throngs of onlookers pushing at one another, trying to catch a glimpse of the clash of willpower that was about to occur. And then, when the count reached zero, it started.
They dunked their heads into salty brine, and began bobbing for pickles.

The Amateur Pickle Bobbing Contest was an appetizer of an event for Katz’s Delicatessen at the Daylife Festival on Orchard Street Sunday, where the great Lower East Side institution celebrated its 125th anniversary. Since 1888, the deli has been doling out generously portioned kosher-style sandwiches. They now claim to serve up to 20,000 pounds of meat per week.

On Sunday June 2nd, the deli honored the longevity of its storefront with something a little more quick and dirty: a competitive eating contest, with ten professionally-ranked competitive eaters gorging themselves on pastrami sandwiches for ten minutes, in an attempt to take home a share of the $7,500 purse that was up for grabs.

So what is a professional eater? How does one become “professional”? At this contest, four of the top five ranked Major League Eaters were present: #1 Ranked Joey Chestnut who regularly wins Nathan’s Hot Dog competition on Coney Island, July 4th; #2 Tim “Eater X” Janus, who paints his face like a 1990s professional wrestler; #4 Matthew “the Megatoad” Stone; and #5, Bob “The Notorious B.O.B” Shoudt.

“It’s not like you wake up one day and say, ‘hey, I’m going to be a professional eater!’” said Matthew Stonie. Stonie, a spry 130-pound 21-year-old, doesn’t look like the world’s #4 ranked eater. And yet the San Jose native competes, and in late April this year he beat #1 ranked Joey Chestnut in a deep-friend asparagus contest in Stockton, California, shocking the competitive eating world.

“It all started when a local place had a big burrito, and if you could finish it all, you got the burrito for free. So I got the free burrito. Next, I signed up for an eating contest and won $600. I thought, hey, not bad for a half-hour’s work.”
Stonie’s low-key demeanor stood in stark contrast to the event’s announcer, Major League Eating Commissioner George Shea, who pumped the crowd prior to the contestants coming out with speech that was half-sermon and half-circus ringmaster.

“They say that competitive eating is the battleground upon which God and Lucifer wage war over men’s souls my friends… and they are right!” Shea frantically shouted. “For this is a battle of the Titans that comes to earth only once, in only one location, and that is here at Katz’s Delicatessen on the corner of East Houston on Orchard Street, in New York, NY. The eaters have arrived from points all across the globe, here gathered by the sum of all, we march toward history made and so it is and so it always shall be! Let the contest begin!”

Following that soaring rhetoric, the eating was, by contrast, a tedious and grotesque affair. For ten minutes, the ten eaters attempted to shove as many sandwiches down their gullets as possible, frequently dipping the bread into water or red Powerade to better assist its path from mouth to esophagus. Six minutes in, reigning champ Joey Chesnut spewed brown meat-water over the front row of the crowd (“The spray zone!” Shea shouted.) In the end, Chestnut took first place by eating 25 half-sandwiches of pastrami, eking in front of Stonie, who took second with 21.

As a gaggle of New York television outlets surrounded Chestnut, Stonie retreated to the back of the stage. Still, he was upbeat, and insisted that he wasn’t disappointed.

“We’re all friends,” said Stonie. “When we’re in the same city, we go out for drinks afterwards.” This must be something of a new tradition for Stonie: he only turned 21 in late May. For his birthday, he ate a 5.5 pound birthday cake in 8:59. When not competitive eating, he studies nutrition at Mission College in Santa Clara, California.

When asked how he’ll strategize to to vault up to 1st place in the rankings and eventually overtake Chestnut, Stonie shrugs and admits competitive eating doesn’t require a lot of strategy or nuance.

“It’s like lifting. You have to train your muscles, train your mind. But there’s not much technique… at least, not for pastrami sandwiches.”

By Wanda Mann

Two dynamic Michelin-starred chefs are shaking up any preconceived notions New Yorkers may have about Spanish cuisine by showcasing a new modern approach to traditional fare. Chef Manuel Berganza and Chef Dani Garcia are both relative newcomers to the New York restaurant scene, but they bring with them impressive accolades from their native country and the talent to back it up. Chef Berganza hails from Gijón in northern Spain and is the executive chef at Andanada 141 on the Upper West Side. Across town, Andalucian native Chef Dani Garcia and his team have transported the energy of southern Spain to the Big Apple at the bustling Manzanilla Spanish Brasserie on Park Avenue South. So, until you can make that trip to Spain, embark on a modern culinary aventura right here in Manhattan.

Manzanilla Spanish Brasserie
www.manzanillanyc.com
345 Park Avenue South (at 26th Street)
212-255-4086
Lunch: Noon – 2:30 pm, Monday-Friday
Dinner: 6 – 10:30 (Monday –Thursday), 6 – 11:30 (Friday), 5:30 –11:30 (Saturday), 5:30 – 10 (Sunday)
Don’t worry if your busy schedule has made it impossible for you to jet set to Marbella for a meal at Chef Dani Garcia’s 2-Michelin starred restaurant Calima – you can experience his culinary magic in Manhattan at Manzanilla Spanish Brasserie. A partnership with Yann De Rochfort, the owner of NYC’s popular Boqueria restaurants, the very spacious Manzanilla boasts dramatic high ceilings, luxurious banquettes, and an open kitchen where you can observe the chefs in action. This stunning décor provides a sleek stage for serious food with a hint of whimsy. The Suckling Pig has been getting rave reviews and the savory Squid Ink & Cuttlefish Croquettes are addictive. When Creamy Spanish Rice pudding topped with a cloud of Raspberry Cotton Candy arrives at the table, don’t be surprised if you clap your hands in delight like a small child. End your meal with a decidedly grown-up and elegant glass of Manzanilla (Sherry).

Andanada 141
www.andanada141.com
141 West 69th Street (between Broadway and Columbus Avenue)
Tel: 646-692-8762
Lunch: 11:30 am – 2:30 pm (Monday-Friday)
Dinner: 5 pm – Midnight every night
Weekend brunch: 11:00 am – 3pm
In Spain, the most passionate and enthusiastic bullfighting fans sit in the highest seating of the arena – the andanada. With the exception of a striking mural in the dining room, the Upper West Side restaurant Andanada 141 is absent of toros and matadors, but patrons have been wildly enthusiastic about the cuisine of Chef Manuel Berganza. The first chef in Spain to earn a first-time, two-star Michelin rating, Chef Berganza’s Andanada 141 menu displays a strong grasp of tradition and endless talent for innovation. For example, Patatas Andanada is his playful departure from the classic fried potato dish Patatas Bravas and showcases tiny potatoes resting atop a bed of olive “dirt”. Other must-try dishes include Croquetas de Lomo Confitado (slow cooked pork loin confit croquettes), and the selection of paellas. New spring and summer dishes include Tartar de Vieiras (Scallop Tartare).
The ambiance at Andanada 141 is casually elegant and offers a variety of dining options in an intimate setting. The front section of the restaurant is perfect for ordering tapas at the bar or at one of the communal tables. The beautifully lit rear dining room is quietly romantic. Wine lovers will be impressed by Andanada 141’s great selection of wines from Spain.

By Helaina Hovitz

Unfortunately for my mother, the dancing queen of her day, my dad is not a dancer. And, just her luck, dancing was not yet on the menu when we had brunch at Dinner on Ludlow (95 Delancey Street). The popular nightspot began serving its weekend fare last month, and they’ve been bumping music like it’s Friday night — so if you want to extend your weekend just a little while longer on Sunday, or kick it up a notch on Saturday, this is the place to go.

dinner on ludlow
95 Delancey Street (www.thedl-nyc.com) for details.
Brunch is served Saturdays and Sundays from 11:30 a.m. – 4 p.m.
(212) 228-0909

Bordered by floor to ceiling glass windows, the space features a long bar lined with clear jars full of lemon, lime, and cucumber, as well as intimate tables and banquettes, gothic décor, and crystal chandeliers. The dark woods and ornamental metal filigree give the room a clubby feel, but it still works as a restaurant. The velvet ropes were gathered in a corner by the door — no need for them so early in the day, (unless brunch becomes as popular as the rooftop nightclub).

The music started off as light and jazzy, but kicked up around 1 p.m., and all off a sudden my mom and I felt like we were up in the club.

My mom’s only complaint was, “I have to dance when I hear this kind of music. I have to.”

But she had to fight that feeling and stay in her seat, sipping the mimosa that came with her meal.

We ate Kale Caesar Salad with Asian Pears, Cornflake Crusted French Toast with Dulce de Leche Syrup, Fried Chicken and Biscuits in a rich herb sauce, and Pancakes, still in the pan, sizzling in blueberry compote. The Chantilly (bowl of whipped cream), was served on the side so as not to cool down the hotcakes.
“I like these Parmesan Truffle Fries, even though I don’t really like Parmesan Truffle Fries,” my mom said.

Chef John Keller has lived across the street from the DL for ten years, and brunch has been on his mind for a long time. He was hesitant, at first, because, “it’s a tough neighborhood during the day, but the warm weather usually lures them out.”

The doors and windows were open, so it was almost like we were eating outside.

“I think we waited for the right time,” he said, leaving us with sugary donut holes dipped in chocolate sauce and ice cream. Breeze blowing through our hair and bass bumping against the walls, we couldn’t have agreed more.

“All you need now is a midday dance floor,” I said on the way out.

Good news! They’re bringing one in. DJs Jennared and Soni will soon spin for a “brunch party” once a month, and a bi-monthly brunch event, hosted by celebrity Chef Roble, “Everyday People,” will also be happening on the rooftop. Check out (www.thedl-nyc.com) for details.
Brunch is served Saturdays and Sundays from 11:30 a.m. – 4 p.m.

By Helaina Hovitz

Two of the Upper East Side’s most prominent chefs also happen to be among the most world renowned, and they were the MVPs the Goals for Life Gala, which took place on Wednesday, May 8th. Along with four other chefs, they took to the kitchen (and stage) at Gotham Hall (1356 Broadway and 36th Street) for an upscale fundraiser benefitting the Pelé Little Prince Research Institute in Brazil.
The Institute is backed by Brazil’s famed “King of Soccer,” Pelé himself, who devoted his life to philanthropy since retiring from the sport.

“Being a nonprofit in Brazil isn’t very common, and we were [initially] afraid because we didn’t have the resources to fund it,” said Jose Alvaro Carneiro C.E.O. of the children’s hospital. “Then Pelé approached us, and now we believe in the long run we will fundraise enough to pay the bills.”

Michael Troisgros, Daniel Humm, Pele, Alex Atala, Roberta Sudbrack, Daniel Boulud, Claude Troisgros. Photo by Karissa Van Tassel

The clear culinary star of the evening was Chef Daniel Boloud, who owns Upper East Side restaurants Daniel (60 East 65th Street) and Café Boloud (20 East 76th Street).

A course each was also prepared by Brazilian chef Alex Atala, Roberta Sudbrack, the first woman to be selected as head chef for a Brazilian President, and French Brazilian chefs and event founders Claude Troisgros and his son Thomas.

Before the meal was served, the chefs did a quick on-stage demonstration to show how the dish was made.

Dessert, made by Daniel Humm, owner of Eleven Park Madison (11 Madison Avenue), was based on a “New York pretzel” and featured peanut butter shortbread, peanut brittle, malted milk sorbet, malt sponge candy, malt yogurt, pretzel crisps, and peanut butter salted caramel.

“I think chefs in general are giving people,” he said. “We try to support a lot of different charities like Share Our Strength [a group that fights child hunger]. We also did work to raise money for upkeep of Madison Square Park,” he said.

At Eleven Park Madison, the menu changes every day, which is “hard to keep up with, but fun, too,” but there is one permanent staple on the three-time Michelin Star winning menu: the whole roasted duck.

Humm, who originally hales from Switzerland, won the 2013 James Beard Foundation’s “Outstanding Chef” award, and has also been awarded several other honorable titles.

At the gala, everyone seemed perfectly content to wait until the first dish came out at 8:45 p.m. (the dinner started a 7:30), Flowers Ceviche with Orange Blossom Vinaigrette smothered in pepper, but I didn’t have the time — or stomach — enough to wait for the other four courses to make their way around the room. Nearly passing out from hunger, I left the glamorous world of a ballroom decorated in purple orchids and black linens to grab a chicken cutlet sandwich.

At $2,500 a seat, the event raised $700,000 for the Pelé Institute, which is currently the largest center for complex pediatric illnesses in Brazil.

For this Mother’s Day, or even for that perfect spring Sunday afternoon, it’s the perfect time to celebrate with brunch. One of the best parts of brunch is that delicious Bloody Mary. But not all spicy tomato cocktails are created equal. Take mom or your loved ones out for brunch, (even a liquid brunch), to one of these downtown places, where Bloody Marys take on an unusual twist.

At Burger and Barrel, the gastropub at Houston Street and Mercer Street, for instance, take your pick from four Bloody Mary choices including the traditional recipe. But for those looking for something more adventurous, try the Bloody Maria, made with infused tequila. The Queen Mary is made with spicy tomato juice, cucumber, gin and garnished with dill and lemon.

But the real draw, according to General Manager Carmelo Pecoraro, is the BBQ Bacon Bloody Mary, made with homemade BBQ sauce, tomato juice and candied bacon. It won first place in the Tito’s Vodka best Bloody Mary competition.

“I feel like everyone likes a Bloody Mary made a certain way,” said Pecoraro. “There’s always a variation on it, and that was the whole idea, to create something new.”

More recommendations:
*Cole’s (Greenwich Ave and Main Street) — Get a drink and an appetizer all rolled into one with Cole’s “Kitchen Sink” Bloody Mary. Chef Daniel Eardley pickles the green beans for the cocktail, which are thrown into the in-house made Bloody Mary mix, along with caper berries, olives, celery and lemon.

*Sauce (Rivington and Allen Street) — You and your loved ones have a choice of three fresh Bloody Mary concoctions at this farm-to-table mom’s Italian kitchen-esque restaurant. Plus all moms eat for free on Mother’s Day at Sauce! Try the Bloody Mario (made with Grappa Zardetto di Prosecco), The Bloody Maria (made with Sauza tequila), and a traditional Bloody Mary made with Tito’s Vodka.

*Colicchio and Sons (10th Avenue Between West 15th and West 16th Streets) ­— The Bloody Verde – You heard that right. It’s green, not red. That’s because this Bloody Mary variation, at one of Tom Colicchio’s famous restaurants, is made with green tomatoes, jalapenos, chilis, cilantro and green Tabasco sauce.

By Helaina Hovitz

My dad always liked to feel special at a steakhouse. He had the (perhaps slightly unrealistic) expectation that everyone would begin to fuss as soon as we arrived, shouting, “Oh, my god, they’re here!”

To be fair, I think that anyone dropping over $100 on a meal wants to be treated like they’re important, and service is, after all, what you’re really paying for when all good steakhouses tend to bleed together. There are a million of them in the city, and a million upscale lunch places in the financial district. So why do I like this one? Because they’re doing something good, of course.

Through the end of next week, a special “Artist’s Series” wine will be offered to diners, with $25 of the $75 price going to Share Our Strength, an organization dedicated to feeding hungry children. The art on the bottles of 2009 Arrowood Cabernet Sauvignon is based on a painting called “Golden Moments” by North Carolina artist Sherry McAdams – the winner of a contest Capital Grille held to find the design for the bottles. The painting itself made a six-city tour, where diners at other Capital Grille locations had the opportunity to place bids on it. Last year, the painting auction and wine sales raised $22,000 for charity.

3 NYC Locations:
155 E 42nd Street – (212) 953-2000
120 W 51st Street – (212) 246-0154
120 Broadway – (212) 374-1811
Serving lunch and dinner.

Throughout the rest of the year, Capital Grille gives all of their leftover food to City Harvest every day, cooking it up, freezing it, and handing it over. Thanks to them, there are hungry homeless people eating $50 steaks all over town, which makes them a ten in my book. Here’s what else I loved.

As an ex-drinker, I appreciated the fact that the waitress brought over the bottle of Pellegrino like it was a fine merlot, cradling it in her arm and hugging it close to her body.

The décor created the feeling of a cozy, upstate getaway with its dark woods and colors, mood lighting, soft jazzy music playing, and a fire-burning tableside lamp (ok, it was a candle). Save for the creepy portraits of old people with weird eyes staring back at me as I ate my sirloin, it was rather romantic.

It’s a great date place for someone like me because they pre-sliced my steak, which spared me the humiliation of a potential deal-breaking mess (yep, it can get that bad). As an added bonus, they gave us black napkins for our black pants (white napkins leave lint on ‘em).

Most importantly, loudmouth brokers and banker bimbos aren’t spilling their drinks everywhere and shouting over each other — they’re all on Stone Street where they belong. The mixed drinks are the same price, anyway, so why not keep it classy? I would if I could partake in their homemade pineapple vodka.

Here’s what we ate: a coffee-rubbed steak (Bone-In Kona Crusted Dry Aged Sirloin with Shallot Butter), mozzarella wrapped in a gratuitous amount of prosciutto, a steak topped with jumbo lump crabmeat (Filet Oscar) that my date proclaimed “was the best meal I’ve ever had in my life,” lobster mac and cheese, and a slice of chocolate hazelnut cake the size of a football (yes, we forced ourselves).

If I were big on fish, I would’ve ordered their Chilean Seabass, which, like all of their fish, is sustainably caught. Their beef is sustainable, too.

On the way out, I was told that a special committee meets every few months to talk about recycling, environmental safety, and new ways for the restaurant to go green.

I’d say that the Capital Grille’s do-good efforts are yielding a rather juicy payoff, and I was left with the image of a cow and a bull happily mating in a field somewhere, sustainably.

By Elian Zach

ust when I was about to formally change New York’s title from “The City That Never Sleeps” to “Sleepytown,” I found hope in the form of a delicious cardiac arrest.
At 2:30 a.m. on a Thursday night, I was walking with my man around the cold streets of SoHo, looking for a place to eat. Our three-hour long disco nap, from which we woke at 11 p.m., left us both wired and starving, and after two shots of overpriced tequila at a club full of douchebags, all we wanted was to have an amazing meal and gaze into each other’s candlelit eyes. Not too much to ask for in the greatest city in the world, right?
Wrong.
Apparently, “open late” is an incredibly subjective term. We were turned away from four different self-proclaimed “open late” joints, and my sexy strut was becoming increasingly painful to watch, as my cheap, yet beautiful, high-heeled booties started to betray me.
My man, a resourceful and devoted foodie and chef, knew all too well that our night couldn’t possibly end with a grilled cheese and a side of misery at some dingy diner. He was so eager to fulfill my insatiable craving for something of the “best I’ve ever had” variety, that I couldn’t decide whether his determination was more adorable or exhausting. I was about to accept my cereal in almond milk fate, when he suddenly gave me a knowing smile, squeezed my hand lightly, and said, “Oh, I know. I know.”
We walked a few blocks over to Sullivan between Spring and Prince, and entered Blue Ribbon Brasserie. I hadn’t been there in years and forgot it even existed. We ordered a bunch of delicious dishes from their classic and extensive menu, which they serve in full until 4 a.m. seven nights a week. After scarfing down grilled sardines with anchovy spread, steak tartare, matzo ball soup, and a great deal of bread and butter, we realized that one of the dishes had yet to arrive. When it finally did, we were far from hungry, which only proved how amazing it really was, because we finished the whole thing.

Blue RibbonBrasserie
97 Sullivan Street
Phone: (212) 274-0404
Hours: Every day between 4 p.m. – 4 a.m.
Reservations available for parites 5-8 people
www.blueribbonrestaurants.com/rests_brass_man_main.htm

Beef Marrow & Oxtail Marmalade
Where do I begin? The marrow was smooth and buttery, and each bone had a generous amount of it hidden inside. The braised oxtail marmalade was subtly sweet and had the caressing texture that only a good long braising process can accomplish. The fried parsley garnish added a fresh and crispy twist, while the sel-gris (grey salt) brought it home, uniting the different elements on a beautifully toasted brioche, crunchy and slightly burnt on the outside and soft and spongy on the inside. In short, a delicate collage of flavors that equaled a truly perfect bite.
Price: $16.75

As the old saying once went, “A you’re alright, B you’re brave, C you’re crazy, D you’re dead.” It’s not news that Alphabet City is no longer the minefield of socioeconomic misfortune it once was, but even today, when the focal point for gentrification outrage has migrated to Brooklyn neighborhoods like Bushwick and Crown Heights, there’s still a surprising amount of upheaval happening on the east side of Manhattan.
Avenue A is as established as Central Park West (hell, even the rhyme couldn’t find anything negative to say about it). Avenue B, for its part, was once a pleasingly lawless strip – close enough to the safety of A for a quick escape but darker, studded with rowdier bars, velvet-curtained second-floor hideouts, and those mystery loft/storefront/abandoned tenement spaces that drew band practices and parties. Now, that velvet-lined den is a well-marked, bowties-and-arm-garters cocktail lounge and Tompkins Square Park is home to hipster hockey leagues.
But even three short years ago, Avenue C was another story, a country unto itself where brand-name pharmacies and supermarkets still feared to tread. Between the Laundromats and bodegas were long stretches of rusting fire escapes, graffiti murals featuring neighborhood heroes, not rock idols, and families picnicking on their stoops. Since then, a smaller, more interesting kind of takeover has happened, one not led by kids looking for the next cheap buzz but by food and drink pioneers looking for a quiet space to do their own thing.
At Bobwhite Lunch & Supper Counter (94 Ave. C; bobwhitecounter.com), that thing is a concept that, by all rights, should be old news. All fried chicken, all the time? Hold on a second, Dirty Bird, Hill Country Chicken, all five locations of BonChon and Charles’ Pan-Fried just called to invite you to 2008. But what Bobwhite has done is subtler, more exciting than simply lodging another vote in the brine-or-no-brine debate. They’ve built an old-fashioned lunch counter straight out of small-town Virginia in an elegant, modern space – no tired red plastic baskets and gingham to be found. Fried chicken dinners come with a buttermilk biscuit, honey, hot sauce or the mustardy relish called chow chow for customization; sides include Brunswick stew, a homely regional favorite that includes tomatoes, corn and pork.
Edi & the Wolf (102 Ave. C; ediandthewolf.com) is another unexpected space, this one tying the nouveau industrial aesthetic of dark wood and iron to bright, big windows and bunches of side-of-the-road greenery dotting the communal table. Perhaps because Austrian cuisine’s reputation is still tied to hearty schnitzels and sausages, Edi’s food manages to be both authentic and innovative, depending on who you ask. The schnitzel is there, but so is a farmer’s cheese and pumpkin seed spread to share, and wild mushroom ravioli with grilled chard.
And while cocktail atavism is big business on the LES and across Manhattan, with “original formulation” spirits and ungarnished Old-Fashioneds the only way to go, nobody is going as far, and having as much fun, as Evelyn Drinkery (171 Ave. C; evelynnyc.com). Skip way over Prohibition, past the Roaring Twenties and back into the late 19th century and you’ll find the phosphate, the soda fountain standby that added an acid tang to everything from cola to claret. Evelyn plays with these in a number of cocktails dispensed through a CO2 tank for light, fizzy refreshers that belie the complex combinations of bitters, spirits and house-processed juices underneath. For the New Yorker’s take on the soda fountain, there are also egg creams, made with infused milks and flavored syrups to take on not just the old classic (in which they rightly use Fox’s U-Bet rather than making their own), but Earl Grey tea, an Orange Julius, and the root beer float.
Avenue C still feels like home for the families and the Laundromats, and in these heady days it’s easy to believe that the neighborhood will find its own balance, keeping out the cheap beer holes and encouraging the pioneers looking for a little room to express themselves. If not, there’s always Avenue D.