Update 4/2/09: Baoguette has opened up an East Village location.

In terms of bang for your buck, it doesn’t get any better than bahn mi. These famously cheap Vietnamese sandwiches combine French ingredients like baguette, pate and mayo with far-east flavors like pickled veggies, daikon, and grilled pork. Most bahn mi shops are tucked into storefronts in Chinatown and the LES, but Baogette brings the kickass snack uptown, to Lexington Avenue.

I ordered a classic baogette which came stuffed with the above-mentioned ingredients, in addition to cilantro, hot peppers, pork belly slices, tofu strips, a dash of sriracha (on request), and something I can only describe as a vaugely fishy aura, which must be a splash of fish sauce. All this cost a mere $5, which is actually a little steep for bahn mi, but the ingredients were clearly high-quality and the portion was quite large.

My gripe about the baogette is its proportions were off–too much carrot and daikon, not enough pork, and a bit too much pate for my palette (I admit, pate is not one of my favorite foods). The baguette is from TomKat Bakery (the same bread used in Cafe Condesa’s french toast); it was so hard I had difficulty biting into it. A few little adjustments and this could be a terrific sandwich, but this qualified as okay-for-five-bucks. I guess after reading excellent reviews on SeriousEats and elsewhere, I was expecting something more.

Ah, well. I still might head back to try the less-traditional “sloppy bao,” with curried beef and green mango!

Baogette
61 Lexington Avenue at 25th Street. Mon-Sat 8am-8pm

After a hard day’s night of bar-hopping, one bite of Crif Dog’s “chihuahua,” a smoked, deep-fried hot dog wrapped in bacon and topped with avocado and sour cream, practically made my face explode with happiness. A below-street-level dude’s hangout replete with 80s arcade games Millipede and Spy Hunter, sports on TV, and the smell of waffle fries lingering on the air, Crif Dogs is just the late-night spot to hit up when a dog smothered with fried egg and cheese is the best idea you’ve ever heard of. But even for a quick snack, these aint half bad if you don’t care about blowing your diet all to hell. Just be sure to try a one that’s spiraled in bacon, which adds a crisp, salty kick to whatever creative combination of toppings you can dream up. If you’re used to Gray’s Papaya prices, be prepared for sticker shock, as these dogs range from $2.75 to $5.00, but the toppings are generous and really make the whole experience.

Note the sliding wooden door on the left wall when you’re walking in, and the window behind the counter through which orders seem to disappear. Next door is speakeasy-themed lounge PDT, an upscale spot for masterful cocktails where you can order food from Crif Dogs. It’s a strange juxtaposition but worth checking out.

Crif Dogs/PDT
113 Saint Marks Place between First Avenue and Avenue A
Sun-Mon: 12pm-12am Tue-Thu: 12pm-2am Fri-Sat: 12pm-4am

Until recently, I didn’t do brunch. Actually, that’s something of an understatement. I used to start my weekend with a large black coffee, a Camel Light, and a quick jaunt to the puppy run. Now that I’ve ditched coffee and cigs I’ve been exploring new indulgences, betraying my inner Spartan by dabbling with things like french toast and morning cocktails.

Braving brunchtime hordes to find decent french toast can be arduous, so it’s rewarding when you find a place that’s gifted with their griddle. Cafe Condesa in the West Village uses what looks like french bread as opposed to the ubiquitous challah in their french toast. It’s relatively light, buttery-crisp on the outside but soft and eggy in the middle, and served with fresh berries ($7.75). My side of scrambled eggs were cooked to fluffy perfection ($2.50) but I could have done without the champagne with muddled strawberries which at $9 doubled the cost of an otherwise reasonably-priced and very satisfying meal.

This austere little cafe only has a few seats so expect a short, awkward wait and if it’s a cold day, beware the table for two by the front door, which doesn’t completely shut.

Cafe Condesa Brunch menu - served Sat and Sun 11am-5pm

Cafe Condesa, 183 West 10th Street at Seventh Avenue

Valentine’s Day falls on a Saturday this year, which means I don’t have to expend so much energy silently judging the relationships of co-workers who receive suffocatingly smelly bouquets at work. My idea of romance is a little more low key than that. Take this tin of chocolate skulls from newly-opened Bond Street Chocolate, for example. $14 for six pieces of artisanal dark chocolate isn’t exactly cheap, but for a gift, it’s understated, cute, and sublimely edible.  If that’s not your idea of a nifty V-day present, Bond Street also sells gold-leaf, solid-chocolate buddhas ($10 small and $20 large). Believe it or not, these two options cover a wide range of datable people. But, if your sweetie isn’t a skull person or a buddha person, chocolate bars and ganaches, some made with tequila, others with passionfruit caramel, are available.

Bond Street Chocolate (not really on Bond Street)
63 E. 4th St, between Second Avenue and Bowery
(212) 677-5103

On the Siberian evening of December 31st two women dressed in hot pants and body paint stood on tables in the front window of Kurve, dragging their limbs in a dazed approximation of dancing. Never before had so many people crowded inside this lounge, but one got the sense that putting naked girls in the window was the last gasp of the long-drowning project. Sure enough, a few days later the doors were shuttered, with an eviction notice taped to the glass. And true to form a few days later it was back from the crypt, open for business again.

Such has been the pattern at Kurve, an oft-closing Thai/pan-asian restaurant soaked in neon purple lighting, with futuristic decor and undulating walls embossed with swirls. Some reputable names are behind this venture: Andy Yang of Rhong-Tiam runs the kitchen, Sasha Petraske of Milk and Honey consulted on the cocktails, and Pichet Ong of P*ong created the desserts. But as Frank Bruni reports, despite some highlights like dim sum and drinks, it doesn’t all add up–the miserable service and culinary missteps merit no stars.

Despite the happy diners pictured in the NYTimes slideshow I never see anyone in here. So my fascination burns, because I don’t see how a place like this can continue to revive itself in times like these. Is there something redeeming here? What ever happened to Mosto, the former tenant, a perfectly low-key, affordable Italian place with hot waiters and delicious ravioli?

Ten bucks says they brings back the dancing girls…

Eater chronicles Kurve’s path to extinction

Kurve, 87 Second Avenue at 5th St.