Thursday, September 25

Three Times Good

Yes, it's true. I was once again in Manhattan last weekend, thanks to the thrilling development that my friend S. has recently moved into a fabulous Murray Hill apartment. Luckily for me, S. is one of the most hospitable people I know, and was nice enough to let me stay with her for a night. Her couch faces floor-to-ceiling glass, and the view at night is really something. Was that Shea Stadium over there, across the river?

As usual, my main concern over the weekend was eating well, and eat well we did. A synopsis of three very different eating experiences follows.

Sparks Steakhouse, located at 210 E. 46th (between 2nd and 3rd Ave.), (212) 687-4855

If you are looking for a dark, clubby, manly, meaty atmosphere, Sparks deals it out in spades. This very traditional steakhouse has been famous for serving Manhattan's wiseguys since 1966. In fact, local legend holds that Paul "Big Paulie" Castellano, boss of the Gambino crime family from 1976-1985, was gunned down in front of Sparks while John Gotti and Sammy "The Bull" Gravano watched from a nearby car.

Notwithstanding any Mob connections, Sparks can more than hold its own among other city steakhouses. The steaks are well aged and huge; the Bearnaise sauce and mushrooms on top of mine were absolutely superfluous. Both the hash browns (properly crusty) and creamed spinach (properly creamy) were delicious. I was particularly impressed also with both the fish selection – this would be a good steakhouse for non-red-meat-eaters – and the dessert selection, which leaned heavily to fruit with cream.

Sparks is not inexpensive, and service lagged a bit considering the high price tag. Next time I would skip the lackluster spinach salad and consider getting one of the specialty lobsters; they don't serve any lobster that weighs less than three pounds, and a nearby table ordered a five and a half pounder that looked like a monster on its platter.

Bonus celebrity sighting: Kelsey Grammer himself was leaving the restaurant as we were, doggie bag in hand!

Second Avenue Deli, located at 156 2nd Ave. (E. 10th St. at 2nd Ave.), (212) 677-0606

What should you eat after a long night of binge drinking? If you're in Manhattan, the correct answer is: pastrami!

The Second Avenue Deli is consistently ranked among the great remaining New York delis (along with the Carnegie and the Stage). It is a true kosher deli, which means that you cannot get a reuben, but you can get matzo ball soup, crunchy fresh pickles, and homemade "all-natural" chopped liver. Alas, my post-drinking stomach would not allow any chopped liver; but the pastrami, hot and thinly sliced on rye with plenty of mustard, made me feel like a whole new girl.

In classic deli fashion, there is no decor (save pictures of all the famous people who've enjoyed Second Avenue's corned beef before you), very little ambience, and fairly surly service. Oh well. It's worth it.

Craftbar, 47 E. 19th St. (between Park Ave. South and Broadway), (212) 780-0880

Hip hipper hippest is now officially the motto of this block of East Nineteenth Street, lined as it is with three hot restaurants all created and helmed by Tom Colicchio. Craft, the flagship and most formal of the three, came first; then Craftbar, smaller and with a limited menu; and finally 'wichcraft, a fresh interpretation of an affordable sandwich shop.

Apparently the point of Craftbar is that you can serve fresh and innovative food and well-priced glasses of wine at an affordable price point with professional service. Red walled and low-lit, reasonably quiet even when busy, it is a perfect spot for a casual evening dinner with friends. We settled in for a good long supper.

My friend S.'s chicken noodle soup stole the appetizer show. The broth was so deeply chicken-y that we wondered if it was actually beef stock; the noodles were from scratch. My pressed sandwich – poached chicken, watercress, fried lemon slices and aioli – was a bit dry, but my brother's capicola, sopressata, homemade pickled cherry pepper and provolone sandwich was beyond fantastic.

Dessert was the high point. I had a dark chocolate mint torte served with black mint ice cream which was almost literally divine. The ice cream tasted like the essence of fresh mint – like what it tastes like when you chew the mint leaves from your iced tea – and only slightly sweet. The accompanying chocolate torte was intensely chocolate, with a texture like creamed butter. My brother's ricotta fritters (like cheese-filled Munchkins, but better than that sounds) were amazing too. Meanwhile, the peanut brittle that arrived with our desserts was so salty, so sweet, and so buttery all at the same time that we couldn't stop eating it – teeth be damned! A pound of that would make an excellent gift; my pre-Christmas project might be to try and replicate it for that purpose.

When people ask me what I do in New York, I usually can't tell them that I saw a show or took a tour. I can tell them where I ate, what I ate, with whom I was eating and whether it was good. Food, wine, friends, family, skyline – isn't that vacation enough?