With a prime spot at the corner of Houston and Elizabeth, Cafe Colonial doesn’t have to serve up outstanding food, although brunch is apparently terrific. I was there for dinner on a warm summer evening, and the food was more than passable – but there’s no way it could rival the spectacle of Nolita’s passersby.

My friend and I each enjoyed a ‘Mexican Bloody Mary’, a mix of vodka and tequila with perfectly piquant tomato juice and spices. It was an ideal way to cool down after wandering around the Lower East Side in the heat. We shared some pão de queijo, because we always used to eat that deliriously cheesy bread at our favorite Brazilian restaurant in Beijing, and Cafe Colonial’s version was even better, piping hot and indulgent.

Somehow, we still found room to split a bacon cheeseburger and spinach and goat cheese salad. The burger was well cooked and juicy, with extra crispy bacon (definitely the way I like it), but it was nothing out of the ordinary, just standard bistro fare, really. The salad was a bit more unusual, coated as it was in a thin guacamole. It was quite good, and I would order it again on its own.

The service was quick and unobtrusive, and my only complaint was the bill – average for New York, perhaps, but unmerited by the food’s quality. Still, I would return here, though probably only for brunch or lunch.

My follow-up review for this restaurant. Read my previous review for this restaurant here.

The problem with many of New York’s best burger joints (Shake Shack excepted) is the lackluster fries that accompany the pièce de resistance. JG Melon avoids this quandary by turning out incredibly crisp and moist cottage fries alongside their burgers. The burgers themselves are on the small side, so it’s good that the fries are so stellar or most customers would leave without feeling full. A cup of delicious chili is also an option here, in case you’re not in the mood for fries (though who’s ever not?).

I’ve only ever frequented JG’s in the wee hours, before heading home after a night of carousing. The place is still lively even toward closing time, and the old-school pub ambience is easy to negotiate even when you don’t have all your wits about you. And the perfectly done burgers and unique fries will definitely restore you for whatever comes next.

Magnolia Bakery has risen to fame on the back of its vanilla and chocolate cupcakes, spawning dozens of imitators around New York, and even more, I’m sure, across the country. However, these sugar bombs explode in your mouth and instantly make you feel sick – at least, that’s what they did to me. More disgusting than delicious by far, despite how pretty they are.

Fortunately, however, my friend insisted I try their red velvet cake (yum!) and the banana pudding (super yum!), both of which are also probably famous in their own right by now. Don’t brave a line for either of them, but if you come at an off time of day, definitely take the time to grab either of those treats – and don’t be tempted by the soldierly cupcakes manning their posts. Consider this fair warning.

El Faro has occupied the corner of Horatio and Greenwich since the meatpacking district actually merited its name. For decades, this Galician-owned treasure has turned out spot-on preparations of classic Spanish dishes in a cozy, semi-subterranean space that evokes the best local restaurants in smaller Iberian cities.

When I need a paella fix – or, even better, have a craving for unsurpassed gambas al ajillo – El Faro stands like a beacon, drawing me closer until I have to submit to high prices and too-formal service to get my fill. Still, I’m never disappointed here, and no one else I know is either.

When I go too long without savoring some of Cafe Habana’s mouthwatering grilled corn with chili powder, cotija cheese, and lime, it starts showing up in my dreams with disturbing regularity. Eventually I head downtown and brave the crowds to snag a table at this tiny eatery, and I remember that it’s not just the corn that’s incredible. The salads are fresh and complex, the tlacoyo de tresmarias a perfect indulgence with goat cheese and masa, the skirt steak smoky and flavorful.

Wash it all down with some tall mojitos, and then move on out, because someone is definitely waiting for your table.

Tía Pol represents the absolute summit of tapas in this city. The friendly owners took a tiny, oblong space and converted it into a unique bastion of Spanish snacking, with less than a dozen tables, mostly two-tops with high stools, and a packed bar, where I often end up eating instead of waiting for a table to open up. The wait for a spot just at the bar can sometimes take up to an hour, so it’s great that it’s such an enjoyable option to eat right there.

Their house specialties, like chorizo and chocolate sandwiches, fried garbanzos, and patatas bravas, are basically perfect, and consistently executed with excellence, but that ethos pervades virtually the entire menu, and it’s hard to go wrong.

The atmosphere successfully and naturally evokes a hip, innovative tapas bar in Madrid, and that, along with the knowledgeable and cool servers, the incredible food, and the exquisite wine list, with cheap and terrific labels by the glass, contributes to making Tía Pol one of my absolute all-time favorite places to eat.

Alfama is not perfect. There have been times when I’ve found myself eating less than stellar specials, which for the price is pretty inexcusable. But the great list of Portuguese wines and the perfect execution of a number of standard dishes continue to draw me back here, as does the friendly management and good service. And it offers by far the best Portuguese food I’ve had in New York.

The classic dishes, like the bacalhau and mariscada, are good bets for entrees, and the tastiest – and most dramatic – way to start the meal is definitely with the chouriço flambéed tableside in aguardente. I rarely have room for dessert after a meal at Alfama, but, when I do, the pillowy meringue with fruit, called farófias de nata, is definitely the way to go.

Caracas Arepa Bar may not be big – in fact, its space overflows with people at peak hours, with conversations in Spanish and English taking place at high volume – but its flavors definitely are. The arepas here are fried, not baked, but they still achieve that special texture, not crumbly, not cakey, but soft and almost sweet inside and with a perfectly crisp exterior. Even better are the ingredients they stuff them with, from crumbly Latin cheeses to black beans, avocado, chorizo, and even perico, Venezuelan-style scrambled eggs (at brunch).

The tequeños, a kind of fried cheese stick, make a good starter, but the guasacaca (Venezuelan guacamole) and homemade yucca chips will leave you better able to enjoy an arepa or two. Sadly, the empanadas are nothing special, and should be avoided in favor of the more unique items available.

The chicha, a kind of thick horchata, and the banana shake are both great for washing everything down.