Zagat two...

Continued from previous post:

6. Katz’s Deli (Houston and Ludlow ): Yes – it’s the same famous deli in When Harry Met Sally where Meg Ryan showcased her talent to fake an orgasm and the old lady next to her told the waiter, “I’ll have what she’s having.” The pastrami on rye is well worth the jaw-dropping $14 they charge for a sandwich because it is hands down the best pastrami I’ve ever tasted and humongous enough for two. Get a side of sweet potato knish and a refreshing Cel-Ray (celery soda) to complete your meal. Don't let the burly guys behind the counter intimidate you - just don't lose your ticket before you pay on your way out.

7. Congee Village (Allen and Delancey): I chink you can’t go wong with the best Chinese food in town – scrumptious and cheap! (Hey only I can say that because I’m Chinese.) Try their silken tofu with mushroom and rice clay pot, steamed fish with ginger and scallions, and dow mew (Chinese spinach) stir fried with garlic - definitely not your kung pow chicken or shrimp fried rice. And if you're feeling a little adventurous, order the various frog dishes (like the deep fried frog with pepper and garlic) - it's actually very tasty.

8. Kunjip (32nd and Broadway in K-town): Mouthwatering Korean BBQ and spicy bibimbop are a must at this busy restaurant which is always a good sign. (Bibimbop is rice in a stone pot with fried egg and ground beef – make sure you mix it up really well with their red house sauce.) My only warning is your clothes will stink of Korean BBQ for days!

9. Asia de Cuba (Morgans Hotel on Madison Ave): As the name suggests, this trendy restaurant fuses Asian with Cuban cuisines. A teensy bit on the tres cher side (I’d have to sell an organ or two to be a regular patron there), but the uber hip crowd and the uber stylish décor where the bathroom door magically transforms from transparent to translucent when you shut it are enough for me to break my piggy bank for one more visit.

10. Beard Papa’s (Broadway and 8th): No list of mine would be complete without something sweet which I purposely saved for last. I was first lured by the sweet smell of cream puffs at the Beard Papa’s in Hawaii. Then I devoured the green tea and the pumpkin variety in Tokyo. When I kept passing by their location in Midtown, I just couldn’t resist. I would gladly give up my firstborn for a lifetime supply of their fondant au chocolate and royal milk tea cream puffs. The royal milk tea flavor is only available on Thursdays, but you can still get the original Vanilla any day of the week.

So here it is. Check out my recommendations for yourself and let me know if you disagree with my taste (I will pretend to give a sh*t.) The best part is you don’t ever have to repeat a restaurant in Manhattan so I can continue to expand my list. I wish I had compiled something similar while I was in Tokyo. Unfortunately, if you were to ask me for any good recommendations for your next trip there, I wouldn’t be able to remember anything to save my life…or my firstborn that I’m planning to give up for cream puffs.

Zagat who?

Among the many things New York City is known for, great restaurants definitely top the list. I'm not a food critic by any means, but my lack of culinary skills and plain laziness have caused me to venture and dine out quite a bit (or maybe just within the comforts of my surrounding neighborhoods). I know when it comes to food, I'm like that guy who'll hit on anything that resembles a girl and has a pulse, because I'll eat anything that resembles food and has an aroma. Although I don’t have much of a discerning taste or a refined palette, I have compiled a list of my top ten (in no particular order):

1. Jin Sushi (Broome and Orchard): I know I’ve become a bit of a sushi snob, but delish does not begin to do Jin justice, especially for the reasonable prices. I highly recommend the Tuna Amazing roll, Spicy Lobster roll, and the Kamikaze roll. It can give Tomoe Sushi in the West Village where Madonna apparently frequents a run for its money. I need a moment…can’t believe I’m disagreeing with my idol and role model.

2. Joe's Shanghai (Pell and Bowery in Chinatown): You must order the xiao lung bao (or "soup dumplings" as white people call it) with scallion pancakes and drunken chicken (steamed chicken soaked in rice wine). Then when you're done with lunch, walk down on Bowery street and get the little egg cakes from the street vendor for dessert (they're like waffle batter in the shape of miniature eggs.)

3. Craftbar (Broadway between 19th and 20th): This is the less pricey stepchild of Craft but just as heavenly (not that I’ve ever been to Craft but I’m certain of its heavenliness.) We commenced our dinner with a Pecorino cheese fondue with honey and hazelnuts for appetizer, then the scallop with onions for entrée, and the brown sugar cake with cinnamon ice cream for dessert. The portions are a bit on the paltry side, but then again, we’re not in Chinatown anymore, Toto.

4. Momofuku Noodle Bar (First Ave and 10th): At $14 a bowl, it is a bit pricey for ramen but the perfect combination of Berkshire pork and savory noodle and broth can almost pass for authentic ramen in Tokyo (which is unlike any ramen you’ll ever taste at only $4 a bowl.) You should also get a side of steamed buns with shitake and the spicy crawfish (which I was too cheap to order but was salivating and green with food envy when my finger-licking neighbor was wolfing them down. Bastards...)

5. La Palapa (St. Marks and First Ave in East Village): I'm not a fan of Mexican food at all, but this place is excellent. Every entree we had was yummy tasty, and margaritas come in a myriad of fruit flavors which is very easy to get drunk on. For dessert, their sweet corn ice cream parfait with macadamia nuts is to die for.

Ok I’m tired and really hungry from reminiscing about all that food so I will wipe the drool off my mouth and continue with my list soon.

My Way or the Subway

New York City's subway system is pretty convenient although dirty as hell. You really can get anywhere without having a car. The subway map is also easy to read and decipher on your own. Of course I miss the immaculate cleanliness and sophisticated technology of Tokyo's subway system, but at least now I can understand when the conductor announces the next stop or that we need to get off the train (since you know, it's in English and not Japanese.)

The smell of these subway stations is a whole other story: quite foul and yet distinct from each other. One station has the stench of 5-day-old urine, another smells like you're stuck in the same stall as a homeless guy with diarrhea. Then of course there's the rats. I'm not talking about the cute little mice dressing Cinderella singing "Cinderelly Cinderelly night and day it's Cinderelly..." I'm talking about the blackish gray nauseating vile vermin that crawl up and down NYC subway tracks. I even saw one on the staircase munching on popcorn at the Times Square station right before I was meeting friends for dinner (very appetizing). But once in a while - after throwing up a lung - something magical happens and it smells like honey roasted nuts. Just so happens, there was a nut stand right outside that station.

Then once you're inside the station or train, it's like opening a box of cracker jacks - you never know what you're gonna get. No matter what time of day, there's never a shortage of entertainment: dancers with their own breakdance competitions, singers performing melancholy songs like "My Heart Will Go On," and musicians playing anything from light-hearted Calypso to heart-wrenching Chinese pipa. There are also merchants selling random knick knacks, a homeless guy pretending to be a conductor and telling everyone to "Step away from the door" (which has been witnessed by people on numerous occasions but I have yet to see him in action), or just plain crazies walking up and down the train yelling obscenities. Can't wait to see what other cracker jack "prizes" I'll get to experience on the subway for the rest of my time here.

No Picnic at the Park

This past weekend we had a little picnic in Central Park. I know it’s so cliché but we had to take advantage of the perfect weather. 70-degrees with a balmy breeze and not a cloud in the sky, the weather was idyllic for having an outdoor lunch as our only agenda on a lazy Saturday afternoon. To prepare for the picnic, we packed homemade Portobello mushroom sandwiches (with tomato and basil in balsamic vinegar on wheat challah), side of artichoke, wine and cheese, and a lemon green tea cookie for dessert in a grocery bag substituting as our picnic basket. With no extra sheets or blankets to spare, I brought along three old pillowcases I found in the apartment.

When we arrived at Central Park, we found the perfect spot to lay down our makeshift blanket: singing hippies to the left, college kids playing Frisbee to the right, and a girl with fake boobs in front. We started with a wine and cheese party but quickly realized how small the 3 pillowcases were for the two of us to sit on. We then ripped them up to double the size of our “blanket.” Besides feeling like we were homeless, it worked like a charm. Who needs dignity anyway when you are already drinking wine out of a mini paper cup (you know – those little Dixie cups for brushing your teeth and making jello shots)? We finished our first bottle of wine so fast that we had to get a second bottle after 40 minutes.

We spent the next four hours people watching, eating/drinking, reading, napping in the sun, and waiting in line for the bathroom. Justin even got picked up by a drunk girl while he was in the bathroom line (I’m so proud!) Nothin’ like getting a good wine buzz (and getting hit on for some) in Central Park. We ended our perfect day with a great Mexican dinner with friends at La Palapa and capped off our night at a hookah lounge with a belly dancer!

Run Forrest Run!

Jogging in 65-degree clear blue sky weather is just what I needed to unwind after a long day at work. In fact I jogged every day last week along the East River Park. But I was a bit offended when I met up with Ben for sushi and he was flabbergasted that I went for a jog. He didn't think I did anything remotely active. I mean, seriously, did you think I was naturally blessed with this body? OK maybe "blessed" is a bit of a stretch - the only thing I was ever blessed with was flab over my six-pack abs (I KNOW my six-pack is there somewhere.)

As much as I enjoy my jog, the only annoying thing about running by yourself in NYC is the gawking. Nothing to be flattered about, the gawkers can be divided into 2 categories: 1) Chinese men older than my dad who stare at you up and down as you run past them (if my dad ever did that to other girls I'd throw up on him) and 2) high school punks who say "hey momma" (eew you are young enough to be my kids if I were a delinquent teenage mom which your mom probably is and if I had a son like you I'd run myself right off the Williamsburg Bridge.)

OK I guess I, too, have done my fair share of gawking. But how can you not when you run past a human stick figure with the best rack money can buy - double D spilling out of that skin tight sports bra which made me turn around to pick up my jaw off the ground...or that hot I-banker (I know for a fact he works on Wall Street by the crimson Harvard tank top he was sporting that showed off his muscles which glistened and bounced with every step)...or that middle-age Monica Lewinsky look-alike with a full blown camel toe - no make that moose knuckle (Hey lady, the 80's called and wants its spandex back)...or that quintessential New York corporate guy - flabby, fifty, and pasty -"jogging" slightly faster than grandma on a leisurely stroll, with a cell phone in one hand and a Dunkin Donuts iced mochalatta in the other (buddy - you might as well give up now and just staple your stomach before you get gout)...

Being directionally challenged, I decided to follow this cute blonde running with her iPod. She looked like she knew where she was going, and I could tell Weight Watchers was really working for her. 15 more lbs to go and she can pass for a poor man's Jessica Simpson (post Nick Lachey divorce but pre lip collagen injection). I ended my 50-minute jog with a lemon icing cupcake from Babycakes right around the corner from my apartment. After that long jog, I WILL have my cupcake and eat it too!

Shall We Dance

Last week I dragged my manwhore to an open house at the Chelsea Dance Studio where they offer free introductory ballroom dancing lessons. I’ve ALWAYS wanted to take a dance class as my only other dance experience was taking ballet at the tender age of 5 but quit after one year – turned out I wasn’t very graceful. Since I don’t have enough rhythm to do hip hop (not even when my blood alcohol content is through the roof), my next best bet is ballroom dancing. And who wouldn’t be inspired watching Heather Mills (or flinching every time you think her leg is going to fly right out of her body attacking the audience), Steve Sanders from 90210, and Billy Ray’s Achy Breaky Heart shaking their booty on Dancing With the Stars?

When we arrived at the studio (after downing a couple drinks to “loosen up”), we almost had a private lesson when we thought we were the only couple there. But another couple sauntered in late and joined us, or really just held us back. They were a bit slow in learning their steps – never mind the guy was legally blind with a guide dog. Come on people, keep up! She said “lead with your left foot”…LEFT damnit! We learned a few basic steps in the Waltz (not my first choice but the short bus couple picked that one and of course we did way better), Swing and Mambo in the span of 40 minutes. We did pretty well if I may say so myself. Who knew I was semi-coordinated? When the lesson was over, I signed up for two different classes starting in June. TWO hour-long classes meeting once a week!!! One class is Salsa and the other is Merengue/Rumba for beginners. I’m waiting for JLo or Antonio Banderas to walk through the door any minute now to give us lessons…(if you don’t get the reference, you HAVE to rent Shall We Dance and Take the Lead.)

Plus One in Pittsburgh

This past weekend I was a "plus one" at a wedding in Pittsburgh (aka Steeler Nation / City of Bridges). It was my first time being a plus one AND my first time visiting the city (not sure why else I would), but Pittsburgh was definitely a pleasant surprise. It's got a breathtaking skyline - especially at night when you gaze across the Allegheny River (or Ohio River - not sure which one I was gazing at). Its many "gold" (more like a rusty yellow) bridges are also a pretty sight in the daytime. And of course it's home to the Steelers - 5-time super bowl champions (like I give a sh*t except everyone I met managed to mention that as part of their self introduction.) It even has its own "language" called Pittsburghese. That's definitely high on my list of must-learn languages - right after Pig Latin.

We visited the Warhol museum which was pretty interesting - even for a non-museum lover like myself. We ate yummy corned beef and fried egg sandwiches stacked way high with french fries and coleslaw inside the sandwiches. We drove to the countryside where I picked asparagus and mint from the garden and fed grass to horses. The fresh clean air did give me a bit of a headache since I'm not really used to that sort of thing.

The wedding itself was your typical Catholic ceremony two hours long with 400 guests. And since the bridal party consisted of 28 bridesmaids and groomsmen, yea 28, the procession itself took an hour. I managed to squeeze in a cat nap at church - I figured being Asian, no one would be able to tell if I'm awake or asleep. I've also never seen such a racially diverse crowd - it was like attending a UN summit with countless shades of WHITE congregated in one room. Just a tad out of place being the only Asian girl there. Furthermore, my date must have abandoned me a thousand times to get drinks and smoke outside with his buddies. Does he not know how shy I am with a paralyzing fear of socializing with strangers? It seems no matter what season it is, I always have this strong urge to stick his skis up his ass. To his credit, we did dance to a couple songs and he even took me out for ice cream the next night. Oh wait - I was too full from dinner so I ended up watching him eat his Peanut Butter Puddles waffle cone ice cream instead (though he was generous enough to let me have 5 and a half bites.) But all in all, it was a good time. My weekend in Sh*tsburgh, I mean Pittsburgh, ended with a 4am wakeup call to catch a 6am flight back to JFK and made it to work by 9:30.

Cherry Blossoms...in Brooklyn

Disappointed that I was not in Tokyo this month to enjoy the hanami (cherry blossom viewing), I was determined to catch a glimpse of my second favorite flower (orchids are number one) at the Cherry Blossom Festival in the Brooklyn Botanical Garden in Prospect Park this past Sunday. Already annoyed by the $8 admission fee (would have been FREE in Japan) to enter an overcrowded park, I was even more disappointed by the pathetic cluster of four cherry blossom trees they call a garden - half of which weren't even in full bloom. The park even attempted to sell "authentic" Japanese food: bento boxes and plates of chicken drumsticks and noodles for $12 a pop. Yea nice try - except they were actually sold out. The only highlight was running into my coworker who was fenced in eating ice cream (not allowed to step into the "garden" with food. Riiiiight.)

Adding salt to injury, my friends in Tokyo emailed me about how especially beautiful the sakura (cherry blossom) was this year and how I missed out on picnicing (with REAL Japanese bento boxes sans chicken drumsticks for a mere 500 yen) under the mesmerizing sky of pink snowflakes.

Picture: This is how sakura is done in Japan (I guess it's really not fair to compare the two as the Brooklyn Botanical Garden doesn't even hold a candle to the Tidal Basin in DC.) See - that could have been ME eating in that picture - I'm definitely crying on the inside.