I believe there’s a therapeutic value to having your water unobtrusively refilled, without needing to ask anyone. The knife you dropped in your appetizer that is swiftly replaced before the next course; the napkin that is neatly refolded when you return from the restroom; the single beam of light that misses you and falls instead on your soon-to-be-full plate, all have a similar soothing effect. Whatever chaos reigns outside, here is the kind of calming order that makes eating better.

Certainly the menu for the front room at Gramercy Tavern is nothing fancy–a pulled pork sandwich and lasagna are among the entrees–but the place does have a Michelin Star, and the front room offered a glimmer of hope of being more affordable than the posh dining room. The front room doesn’t take reservations so we waited an hour at the height of the Saturday night rush for a table. Time passed quickly enough while sipping cocktails at the bar and perusing a copy of Edible Manhattan from the waiting area. The tavern is a pleasantly unstuffy space, with ceiling beams evoking an 18th century inn, and a splashy mural of fruits and flowers lending brightness to the room.

After we were seated I ordered a single raw oyster, which our server brought in a bowl of ice, with lemon, diced cucumber, and cocktail sauce. I’d never eaten an oyster before, and had heard them described either in utterly delightful or completely repellent terms. I stabbed the slithery mass with a dainty fork and rolled it around my mouth a little before it slid down my throat, leaving a memory of butter and brine. It was gone too fast for me to pin any specific words to the moment, but I felt like I’d had an espresso shot. We ordered some more. I chewed the second one a bit in order to better taste it, but this time I got all brine and no sweetness. The difference in taste was intriguing since both came from the same place (Island Creek, MA). I could have had a few more but I was eager to get on with the rest of the meal.

My appetizer, the porchetta salad ($16) goes down as one of my all-time favorite salads. Cider vinegar lightly dressed escarole, fennel, radishes, parsley, toasted bits of buttered bread, and thinly-sliced roast pork. Porchetta can be overwhelmingly rich and fatty, but just a few slices layered with crisp vegetables were delicious. My crappy camera phone shot doesn’t really do it justice. I also tasted the fish croquette appetizer ($12), which was appealingly delicate and non-fishy, although our server couldn’t specify what kind of fish was in it. It was served with tasty heirloom white beans and arugula.

For an entree I ordered the meatball ($18). Yes, that’s a meatball–singular–for $18. But what a meatball. It was, thankfully, enormous and served sliced in half, interlaced by strings of melting fontina cheese, atop a buttery smooth potato puree, red wine onions, and some pitch-dark, intensely beef-flavored demi glace. I tried a bit of the chicken entree ($19), which consisted of a perfectly moist breast and thigh with crisp skins, served with broccoli rabe, more heirloom beans and green beans. It was fine, but plain compared to the in-your-face flavors and heartiness of the meatball.

I’ve been burned by many a bad dessert when eating out, but when a place employs their own pastry chef I make it a point not to miss it. We decided to split the butterscotch bread pudding with pear sorbet ($9), and our server brought an extra scoop of sorbet for us–a nice touch. The bread pudding was the perfect consistency, somewhere between french toast and custard. It was served with an orange sauce that tasted of citrus mellowed with honey, and a crisp almond cookie. The pear sorbet was refreshing and tart, and when you loaded all elements on your fork, you got sweet, tart, warm, cold, crunch and smoothness; more depth and flavor than I’ve had in a dessert in a while.

All-in-all we spent about $145 for two appetizers, two entrees, three drinks, a few oysters, and one dessert, including tip; but everything I had was very good, and the salad and dessert were excellent. Know something else that makes eating better? Someone else picking up the check.

Gramercy Tavern
42 E. 20th St. between Park Ave and Broadway
Tavern hours: Sun-Thurs 12pm-11pm, Fri-Sat 12pm-12am

As I slogged into work the morning after Memorial Day, my bleary, weekend-weary eyes alighted on a most unexpected sight. The Schnitzel & Things truck, which has eluded me for months, was parked on 46th street, right in my lunch path. I canceled my morning bagel and an oh-so-subtle spring entered my step as I mentally prepared to schnitzel it up come lunchtime.

Schnitzel, a product of Austrian cuisine, is a boneless piece of meat that’s pounded flat, breaded, deep-fried, and served with a wedge of lemon. The most famous variation, wiener schnitzel, is made out of veal, but there are other varieties. The Schnitzel & Things truck serves chicken, pork and cod versions, as well as a toothsome-looking schnitzel burger, and bratwurst. Schnitzel can be ordered in a sandwich ($8) or as a platter with two sides ($10). Sides include potato salad, cucumber salad, french fries, chickpea salad, roasted beets, and mesclun salad (sample of 4 sides is $8).

I went with the chicken schnitzel platter. The cutlet was generously-sized, perfectly crisp, yet not terribly greasy–quite possibly ideal bookends for a schnitzel double down. A squirt of lemon, and generous dipping in pesto mayo sauce enhanced the otherwise plain flavor (ginger, olive, sriracha, and tartar sauces are also available, and absolutely essential). As for the sides, I enjoyed the roasted beets–the sweetness of the beets was cut by a crumbly layer of salty, rich feta cheese. The potato salad was… well, you’ll probably never see me get worked up about potato salad, but it was sufficiently tasty when dipped in mayo. In fact, my sole criticism with my lunch was I could’ve used more sauce.

I can only think of one other critique. I’ve always assumed food truck-eating should be, above all else, wallet-friendly. Platter or no, $10 is about the maximum that I can pay for truck fare without feeling chumpish. Even though it’s probably worth it, it’s better for my waistline if I don’t eat schnitzel too often anyway. Also, judging by the crowd of people during my early lunch stop, there will be a sizeable line following this truck around. But the queue moved swiftly, and they were handing out free, deep-fried balls of prosciutto and ricotta for folks to munch on, which certainly helps pass the time.

Schnitzel & Things truck
Check Twitter for locations

Six Manhattan chefs from six different well-regarded restaurants, each given a different liquor, and tasked to come up with a cocktail and a dish to accompany it. Add dozens of hungry foodies. Stir. Result? A hell of a fun night and a for-the-ages hangover the next day. This event, held on Jan 25th and coordinated by the Edible Magazines network (Edible Manhattan is my favorite food magazine right now–unlike Saveur, it’s locally focused, and the features are more digestible than those in ploddingly academic Gastronomica), was a follow-up to their Good Beer party in July. The tickets were $40, but since this included an all-you-can-handle cocktail throwdown with a magazine subscription to boot, I figured it would be well worth it as long as I ate and drank everything in sight.

The chefs set up tables around the perimeter of Almond Restaurant and guests freely wandered from station to station, eating and imbibing as much as they saw fit. We attempted small bites first: a celery root and apple terrine accompanied by an Orange Blossom (orange bitters, St. Germain, sparkling wine) was our first stop. Coming from Gramercy Tavern, it was a bit of a letdown. Moving right along, Ilili‘s smoked venison carpaccio with hummus, apple, and cinnamon chile oil served with a Sidon Rose (vodka, green apple, rose syrup) was my first taste of venison, and a pleasant one. The next dish, Resto‘s fennel and juniper lamb bacon with beet and caramelized yogurt, was my favorite of the small bites (although I went easy on the gin, green chartreuse, lemon, and peach Lambic concoction served with it, since gin is my nemesis).

The next two dishes were the highlights of the evening. First we braved the long line for a roasted sweet corn tamale topped with two succulent white shrimp, chipotle butter and avocado pico de gallo, paired with a powerfully tart and boozy La Sombrilla Roja (mezcal, campari, lemon, lime and grapefruit). Rocking Horse Cafe contributed this pairing, and I’m eager to try the restaurant based on it. This was followed by Il Buco‘s persimmon, hazlenut and fennel salad, served with the il Buco sour (bourbon, persimmon, lemon, thyme, and Sagrentino Passito). I’d never eaten a persimmon before, which really upped the ante on a disarmingly simple salad. Il Buco is also now high on my list of restaurants to try. My favorite cocktail of the evening came next, the J.M. Ginger (rum, pear puree, ginger syrup, red wine sorbet, and a ginger-sugar rim). This was served with a crepinette of lamb neck, with celery root puree and kumquat-basil marmalade, from Almond.

After seconds of the tamales and J.M. Gingers, we sampled a tray of Roni-Sue chocolates but my stamina was fading by the time we passed the coffee and brandy pairing. After scooping up some free Edible magazines, we swung by the Heartland Brewery table to sample a hopped-up and super-malty Mr. Atlas Pale Ale and a chocolatey, pitch-black Sumatra Porter. This to my mind makes a better dessert than a wedge of pie, but perhaps it was fortunate that we were near the door, because it occurred to us to roll out of there before we could do too much more damage to ourselves. My guess is that the amount I ate and drank would have cost at least three times the price of the ticket in a restaurant, so all-in-all it was a bargain, despite a dearth of seating. I am never, ever mixing that many liquors together again, but I’m totally checking out the next Edible event.

Edible Manhattan
Good Spirits at Almond pairings
Almond Restaurant
12 East 22nd St. between Broadway and Park Ave.

You don’t want to go near Vatan unless you have fasted for an entire day and have some hardcore willpower to pace yourself through a meal. This Curry Hill spot offers a $31 prix fixe all-you-can eat gujarati Indian dinner consisting of about a dozen small vegetarian plates with accompanying rice and sauces, plus dessert. That’s right, you can ask for more of anything and nothing gets added to your tab. But even if you don’t have room for seconds, the price, while not an incredible deal, isn’t bad for what you get.

Dinner is reservation-only, but reserving a table for the same evening on a Saturday night was no problem. We were lead through the neon blue-flooded dining room, which was pure Bollywood kitsch. A baby-elephant-sized statue of Ganesh overlooked an imitation temple courtyard, complete with thatched-roof booths and fake trees. Our host finally seated us in what must have been the temple basement, a cave-like downstairs area, which while cozy, felt like a punishment for calling an hour ahead, since there were empty tables upstairs. The menu, our waiter informed us, was purely for informational purposes since the dinner comes with everything listed.

The first course consisted of six appetizers arranged on a silver serving platter, with a second platter holding five sauces ranging from spicy to sweet. Stand-outs included the samosas, battered triangles of spicy potatoes and peas, and chana masala, garbanzo beans with chutney and coriander. After eating a few deep-fried peppers a low heat began filling my mouth, and I found myself gulping water and sev puri, cooling, yogurt-filled bread. When the waiter asked how spicy I’d like my dinner, I requested mild.

Dinner was served similarly, but the dishes came accompanied by two kinds of rice, as well as kadhi, a yogurt and chickpea soup meant to be ladled in the middle of your dish. The puri–fried, puffed whole-wheat bread–nicely complemented the toor dal (spiced boiled lentils), and bhaji (sauteed spinach). The bataanu sak–potatoes in “mild” red gravy–caused another minor sweat attack, which I countered with more water and rice pudding. Dessert was a light course consisting of chai tea and mango ice cream–thank god, because the rest of my carb-and-salt loaded dinner was rapidly expanding in my tummy. Everything had been pretty tasty, but even though I didn’t finish my meal, I walked out feeling like I was steering a giant stomach on spindly legs, sweat drying on my brow like I’d seriously exerted myself. This is a good place to test the limits of your appetite with your vegetarian buddies, but due to price and the fullness factor I’ll be strictly limiting repeat visits.

Vatan
409 Third Avenue between 28th and 29th St.
Sun, Tue-Thu 5:30pm-10pm. Fri-Sat, 5:30pm-10:30pm. Closed Mon.
Call for reservations (212) 689-5666

The Japanese just might be the modern-day masters of cute. But wagashi, adorable pastries shaped like fruit, birds, and flowers, have served as traditional tea ceremony snacks for centuries. Although rare on this side of the Pacific, Minamoto Kitchoan sells wagashi in bright array, spot-lit in glass cases like the baubles at Tiffany’s.

Enjoyment of wagashi hinges on one’s opinion of the mochi (rice paste), sweet red-bean paste, and jellied fruits they’re made from. If you like treats that are sweet and potato-textured you’re in luck. But if in doubt, ingredient and freshness information is meticulously displayed on the oft-impenetrable plastic packaging.

A selection is pictured above. Hakuun-no-hotori ($3 – bottom left) consisted of condensed milk and sweet beans wrapped in crepe. Fukuwatashisenbei ($2 – top left) was really more of a classic vanilla wafer, with crisp, butter cookies encasing smooth crème. The pumpkin-shaped one ($2 – top middle) had a moist thin rice layer wrapped around sweet pumpkin-spiked beans. Wagashi can be bought individually for two or three bucks although a box of Shunen, pictured at the top of this post, will set you back a steep $27. (The petals are white bean paste wrapped in pink rice cake, while the middle is rice cake and merengue). Staff are unfailingly friendly, (as I stared at the daunting word Fukuwatashisenbei, one counterperson offered kindly, “cookie?”). Seasonal wagashi are available – this cherry blossom dessert on nycnosh looks too good to eat.

Minamoto Kitchoan
608 Fifth Avenue New York, NY
Sun-Thu 10am-7:30pm, Fri-Sat 10am-8pm