You’ll rarely find good pasta outside an Italian restaurant. The orecchiette alla norcina here is creamy cheesy and sausagy. It’s too bad you can only get it on Thursdays. The calamari appetizer and the rock shrimp risotto are satisfying. Consider this a safe place to get a little more adventurous and try something unusual like the goat cheese profiteroles. I’ll have to go back a couple more times.

Loosen your wallets and order the Blue Ribbon Special. It’s a flight of the finest cuts of sashimi and delectable maki that leaves you wondering why you would ever order sushi anywhere else. Occasionally you’ll have a meal worth any price. This is one of those meals.

Hot and cold appetizers are better at Nobu and Morimoto. But this hidden gem is the mecca of sushi.

The servers are polite, friendly, and Japanese—a rarity in most Japanese restaurants in the U.S.

Beautiful space for beautiful people. But the food isn’t just disappointing…it’s bad. The margherita pizza was dry and my pasta dish was room temperature and runny. It’s a f**king joke.

Come here if you don’t plan on eating.

The food is sooo Mexican. Living and eating in New York, you begin to expect all sorts of savory adventures and novel twists on classic tastes that sometimes you forget that straightforward food can sometimes be very very good. Don’t expect to get the kind of New York-style Mexican food you get at a Rosa Mexicano. But also, don’t expect the sometimes bland and usually sloppy mess you get from most affordable Mexican restaurants.

The guacamole is fresh and the four salsas were good; having a five options to dip my chips was great. Everything about the chile relleno I had was just right. The poblano chile was soft, the chihuahua cheese was melty, and the bed of green rice had a nice infusion of cilantro. There were even clumps of fresh corn, cut right off the cob. I scraped my plate clean.

The chicken enchilada too my right was excellent and the pork tacos at my 2 o’clock were good…for tacos. But unfortunately, this review isn’t all good. The anomaly at this meal was what looked like two purple Taco-Bell-sized tacos with red oil running out the side. I thought it was some sort of unfunny joke from the kitchen. Amy didn’t look too pleased when the waiter left the plate in front of her.

I’ve heard extremely positive reviews for this highly rated restaurant, but I’ve also heard about some real disappointing experiences. To me this level of inconsistency is unacceptable. That’s too bad, because the jalapeno margarita was damn good.

A tarot card reader and a neon sign reading “psychic” are usually red flags causing most people to shy away. But if you muster up enough curiosity to walk by the fortune teller and pass through the purple curtain, you’ll be generously rewarded.

Alright. So I’ve been here once for one drink with some friends, but the first impression was a meaningful one. Dim lighting and horn blaring jazz take you back to a time when speakeasies weren’t just secretive—they were exclusive clubs for the cool. That’s right, I felt cool here, drinking my Billionaire Cocktail. Watch and be entertained as the bartenders carefully measure gin and cointreau and muddle everything from cranberries to cucumbers as they masterfully craft the Ginger Smash and Pimm’s Cup.

The cocktails are great, but the low-key Manhattan vibe is even better. Help keep it real and leave your bridge and tunnel at the door.

Remember your favorite dive bar? The one with your favorite bar game? Maybe it was Golden Tee or Super Shot Basketball or just a bar top trivia machine. Whatever it was, this Chuck E. Cheese for adults has it. Waste money on games to accumulate tickets, which can be redeemed for a wide array of crap no one wants.

Having said that, the food here is unexpectedly exceptional. Philly cheesesteak eggrolls, waffle cut cheese fries, cheeseburger with sauteed mushrooms—it’s all as good as it sounds. Last time, I got the mini-cheeseburgers and buffalo wings all served over a bed of french fries. It makes my left arm go numb just thinking about it.

The crowd is a mix of tourists, entry-level financiers, and the ever-dreaded BT.

Peek through the window and you’ll never guess this swanky restaurant serves $1 tapas. Head over with your afterwork crew, order a round of margaritas and start off with the $10 tapas combination platter. Try a little bit of everything and then order up more of your favorites.

High class experience at low cost.

Sascha is a new take on the modern theme restaurant. Unlike the ESPN Zone and Planet Hollywood, which showcase sports and movies respectively, Sascha is an ode to ostentation.

Upon entering, you’re not noticed by the crack-whore-ish hostess, who is talking to a host (or maybe a server; who knows). Eventually, you tell her you need a table for three. Then she tells you to hang on a minute as she begins to walk through the mostly empty main floor to get to the stairs to the second floor. She comes back down to tell you you’ll have to wait 20 minutes to get a table in an empty restaurant.

“Wow!” you think to yourself as you walk out. That’s when you turn the corner and head to Pastis, another meetingplace for the pretentious. At least here, if they have a table, you’ll probably eat.

Hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookie. City bakery takes everyone’s favorite warm winter beverage to another level of richness, comparable to that of a molten chocolate bar. And the buttery soft inside and crunchy outside make the cookies completely incomparable.

But there are a couple of problems with this place. First, the hours are completely screwed up. Some days it closes at 7, and on others, 5. They also make it a point to have the place cleaned by closing time, which means most of the baked goods and food are gone long before 7 or 5.

Speaking of food, the food here (for what you pay) sucks. Come here to watch people with too much money overpay for food that is no better than what you get at a deli by-the-pound bar run by a bunch of Koreans. (No offense to Korean deli operators; I eat that crap once a month.)

$7 for a cup of chili from a food cart?! It would have to be the best damn chili on earth, and it is. The first things you’ll notice are tender chunks of stewed beef, rather than ground beef. It’s so untraditional, yet so right. The spice mix and the rich tomato base are so perfectly executed that you’re left somewhat perplexed; it’s too good.

After a couple Google queries, I got an explanation: Daisy May’s chief Adam Perry Lang, formerly of Daniel and Le Cirque (Michelin rated restaurants). It sounds sacriligious, but the end product is next-level chili that without sacrificing any chili-ness.

What can I say about the best Texas chili in America? It’s made in New York City, bitch.