Christmas in New York City with IgoUgo

Rai Rai Ken
214 East 10th Street
between First and Second Avenues
New York, NY
212/477.7030

While Rai Rai Ken reminds me of the Japanese movie Tampopo, it is my quick trip to Tokyo a few years ago that always comes flooding back whenever I enter the shop for a simple bowl of ramen. Separating the banners overhead at the door, I immediately get transported back to winter Japan; its narrow space and wooden bar remind me of cold cheeks and frozen hands after my usual bike commute through the suburbs of Tokyo. Their simple menu offers three kinds of ramen bowls: shoyu, a soy sauce-based broth, shio, seafood-based, and miso, made of soy beans, all served with bamboo shoots, spinach, roast pork, nori (dry seaweed), and scallions, topped with the ever-so-Japanese pink fish cake. Long strands of ramen noodles that require pulling, twirling, and slurping complete the package. You can order fried vegetables and pork gyoza (dumplings) on the side, as well as edamame (boiled soy beans) and white rice. Sapporo and Kirin beer overflow for those who want to extend their stay.

In New York City, temperatures do not drop like they do in Japan during the winter months, but it is nonetheless cold. It is so cold, only an imaginary trip back to Japan at Rai Rai Ken can warm me up.

The Tasting Room
72 East 1st Street
on First Avenue
New York, NY
212/358-7831

When people ask me for my Top Five restaurants in New York City, I rank Sushiden on five, Tom Colicchio's Gramercy Tavern on four, Snack on three (because I eat there at least three times a month), and Mario Batali's Babbo in second place. I usually get a reaction when I tell them that The Tasting Room ranks first, either because they have never heard of it or because the proprietors are more famous at the farmers' market than they are on the Food Network.

The Tasting Room is where I was introduced to ramps a couple of years ago. Ramps belong in the leek family and have the taste and smell of garlic and onions combined. Ours were served with very tender Moulard duck breast. I have been ramp farming every spring since then. I don't know any other restaurant in New York City where I can eat carpaccio, squab, and to-die-for pork belly all in one seating.

I visited for a second time a couple of weeks ago to see the difference of their autumn menu. Again, my expectations were superseded. A friend and I started with the uni (sea urchin) velouté, a fancy term for soup, then the fluke tartare with roasted eggplant. The soup was perfect for the almost-winter weather outside, and it could have been butternut squash because of the color, but the distinct taste of the ocean was obviously there. It was very comforting. We also ordered the rabbit terrine and the pheasant in three ways: rillettes, roasted breast meat, and chopped liver. My dining partner definitely knew she wanted fish with her white wine, so she picked the striped bass with smoked eel, pappas amarillos, and roasted garlic. Maitake mushrooms are still in season, so I chose them with scallops, turnips, and celery root purée. Simply delicious. It was the best dish, I thought. The turnips and the celery covered the maitake, which sometimes could be overwhelming in taste and in smell, but the saltiness of the scallops brought all of them together. To finish, we opted for the cheesecake with red wine-braised pear, which carried the namesake of the co-owner's mother.

The space is tiny, at about ten tables, but the dishes speak volumes. You have a choice of tasting portions for any of their dishes, or you can share at double the amount -- quantity and price. The service is excellent, because each table is given the exact amount of attention, whether it is to answer your questions (what the hell is "salsify"? And "burdock"?) or to recommend one of their numerous bottles of domestic wine.

For the holidays, wouldn't you want to splurge on yourself and your loved ones?

New York was close to making the final cut for inclusion within that charming fraternity known as New England. Of course, a few factors hampered our admission: besides existing a few yards south of the crucial geographical cut-off point, our natives have the staggering advantage of being able to stroll the streets in January without losing all major vital signs (well, almost).

Still, I can’t deny that when the urge to curl up beside a fireplace swathed in garland and holly kicks in, New England takes the lead over all other regions in my sappy mind's eye. I curb the urge to haul my self aboard the next Amtrak bound for Stamford by heading instead to the most homey and sweet dining experience in downtown New York —- Ye Waverly Inn.

Located in the romantic back quarters of the West Village, Ye Waverly Inn is the kind of restaurant that has relied on intimate word-of-mouth revelation, rather than media overexposure, to gain a devoted, unpretentious following. It seems to work well for them -— they’ve been in business since the 1840s and show no sign of slowing down.

Originally an inn and pub for weary travelers, the rustic dining rooms have retained a cozy old-world ambiance with low ceilings, dark-wood booths and tables, and three working fireplaces. Edna St. Vincent Millay, along with fellow fashionable dames of her day, dined in these quarters, and Robert Frost composed poetry in their cobblestoned garden. I hope they were lucky enough to visit the charming townhouse during the holiday season. Right before Thanksgiving, the folks at Ye Waverly Inn erect a beautiful Christmas tree in the corner of the dining room. Antique mirrors are dressed in white lights and garland and rich bouquets of russet and gold leaves glimmer beside long stem candles on the fireplace mantle.

Executive Chef Patrick A. Haynes creates sophisticated comfort food that harmonizes perfectly with Ye Waverly Inn’s homey feel. Butternut Squash Soup is velvety smooth, and the Wild Mushroom Ravioli in Pumpkin Cream Sauce is perfect for a cold New York night. Other favorites include Pan-Roasted Chilean Sea Bass, Oxtail Stew with Rice, and Seared Tuna Tartare (and yes, I’ve actually tried all of these!)

And in case you aren’t ready to go home straight after your meal, Ye Waverly Inn’s adjacent bar area is a cozy and quiet spot to linger over an after-dinner glass or wine or port. Happy holidays!

I just can’t jive with the hordes of fashionable, health-conscious New Yorkers who spend the holidays nibbling elegantly on dinners of tofurkey, potato purée drizzled with a light sauce au jus, and low-carb pumpkin tartines. When I hear the sound of sleigh bells jingling, I crave comfort food. Juicy, home-style, coronary-on-a-plate comfort food.

So three cheers for Biscuit, "a B-B-Q joint" (as the sign out front proudly declares) that brings the red-blooded fare of the red states to the chilly North. And let me tell you, once you’ve had a taste of Biscuit, you’re never going back to KFC. This is real soul food.

Step into Biscuit’s small, jam-packed dining room, have a seat at one of the oilcloth-covered tables, and brace yourself (and your arteries) for a truly magical experience: double-dipped fried chicken. That’s right. You heard me. Double-dipped. And before the chicken is breaded and fried, they cover it in herbs and spices for some extra flavor to go along with all the fat. Mmm… I’m starting to hyperventilate just thinking about it.

Of course, it doesn’t end there. The pulled chicken is just as good as the fried (well, OK, almost as good), and you can also get pulled pork, ribs, catfish, shrimp, or beef brisket. And all these main courses come with two sides—you can choose from the likes of braised greens, seasoned fries, red beans and rice, potato salad, mashed spuds, mac’n’cheese, or my personal favorite, cheddar grits. All these dishes are seasoned to perfection. After a lifetime of bland mac’n’cheese and mashed potatoes, the Biscuit versions were a real eye-opener for me. And yes, you can order these sides à la carte as well.

If all this sounds like too much, you can just get a sandwich. On the weekends, there’s also a selection of brunch offerings. Oh, and the biscuits? Well, let’s just say that Biscuit definitely lives up to its name. Whatever you choose, do your best to save room for dessert —- there are several classic choices; my personal fave is the unbelievably rich peanut-butter pie. And it’s all made from scratch—not just the desserts, but everything on the menu. (I mean, they don’t raise the pigs and chickens themselves—as far as I know, at least—but you get the idea.)

So when you get tired of Manhattan’s fancy bistros and brasseries, go on down to the heart of Brooklyn and get yourself some down-home holiday cheer. Just remember Biscuit’s immortal slogan: "Save a cow...eat a pig!"

Everybody thinks of evenings when they imagine the holidays in New York: sloshing through Central Park in a sleigh, white lights illuminating the way for rush-hour shoppers along Madison Avenue, or ice-skating in the shadow of Rockefeller Center. But weekend mornings in December are when I love New York best. And that’s all thanks to the delicious brunch at Arte Café.

Arte Café is located on New York's Upper West Side, on a tree-lined block of perfectly maintained brownstones in a residential neighborhood where you’re likely to see locals schlepping their Christmas trees home from corner convenience stores and walking their golden retrievers with steaming coffees in hand.

The reason to come to Arte Cafe, apart from the neighborhood, is its yummy, spectacular-value brunch. Creamy scrambled eggs cost about $5, and French toast slathered in apple-cinnamon sauce runs you a measly $6.50. Before you even receive your food, you’ll have a choice of blueberry, bran, or corn muffin -- plus some cubes of foccacia. But the real value here is the booze: an endless amount of champagne, mimosas, or bloody Marys is yours for a paltry $8 extra. And you won’t be battling the waitress for refills, either.

The other special thing about Arte Cafe is that the ambiance would support prices twice as high: a stunning marble fireplace, white linen tablecloths, wine bottles stacked and lit against the exposed brick walls, and a boisterous and diverse crowd of locals. And did I mention the free biscotti as you walk out the door?

Assuming you haven’t overdosed on holiday "spirits" the night before, you just can’t get any more festive in the AM than all-you-can-drink mimosas for $8. The shame of it is that this area of New York begs for exploration —- the Upper West Side’s best farmer’s market is located three blocks north (open only on Sunday) of Arte Cafe -— but trust me, all you’ll want to do after this much champagne is go back to bed.

Rockefeller Christmas Tree
Rockefeller Plaza
47th to 51st Streets, between Fifth and Seventh Avenues
New York, NY

Christmas in New York City requires a visit to the Rockefeller Christmas tree. The sight of the giant tree in the middle of the plaza has delighted tourists and locals alike. It started humbly with 700 lights, then enhanced in 1936 with an outdoor ice-skating rink in 1936. A giant statue of Prometheus, the Greek god of fire, watches over the young and the young-at-heart skaters below. Today, the lighting of the tree is aired on national television as one of New York City's beloved traditions, with more than 25,000 multicolored bulbs. This year the Norway spruce was cut from Rockland County, New York, and is 71 feet tall and 40 feet wide, weighing in at 9 tons. It will be topped with a Swarovski-designed star adorned with 25,000 crystals.

What happens to the tree after it is taken down on a week after the new year? According to the Rockefeller Center Web site, the tree is recycled. Sometimes the largest part of the tree trunk is given to the U.S. Equestrian Team to be used as an obstacle at its training facilities. The mulch is often donated to the Boy Scouts of America.

Chinatown. When you hear that name, you probably just think of Chinese food, buildings with intricate detail, some sort of major arch establishing the entrance to it, and a lot of signs written in Chinese that you have no clue how to read. Of course, the culture of Chinatown is amazing, but the shopping there is even more amazing.

Look beyond those obvious establishments, and you'll find a mecca for discount shopping. Here, there is something for everyone on your Christmas list. Canal Street, lined with tiny stores, street vendors, and the occasional "mini-mall", is the center of this holy land of discount shopping.

The popular shopping attraction, during Christmastime and year-round, is the purse/handbag market. The police have cracked down on the Canal Street vendors recently, so finding the bags with Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, and Kate Spade logos are not as easy to find as before. But hang around the intersection with Broadway and ask the vendor if they have those bags. Their usual answer is "no," but promise them you'll buy one, and they'll open up a secret compartment with the bags you want. Act fast, because they'll close the compartment if they suspect a cop is nearby.

If purses are not your thing, look for $5 DVDs of movies still in theaters, $10 Oakley sunglasses, $15 Rolex watches, car and home stereos, $5 computer programming books (complete with missing pages and misprints), and fragrances. Of course, some of this stuff is obviously fake, some are really good "knock-offs" of the real thing, and some might even be stolen (or "hot"). But whoever receives your gift does not need to know that, especially because you don't even know where it came from.

If you're in a pinch for a holiday gift, head down to Chinatown and grab something that is usually very expensive for a discount price. The watch you buy may break in a week, and the bootleg DVD may have Chinese subtitles, but nothing says love like a fake Prada handbag.

This cozy neighborhood hideaway, tucked below street level down a short flight of stairs, is just the place to settle in and wile away a chilly evening in front of the fire. Its obscurity is maintained by the unassuming sign and dingy windows on the street; in fact, I passed right by it twice before finally identifying it. I took this as a good sign.

Once inside, I slid onto a bar stool to wait for my friend and joined in the communal game of Jeopardy being played by a group of regulars gathered at the bar. They were very welcoming and even tolerated my embarrassing wrong-answer shouting until my friend arrived. The bartenders were attentive and friendly, the jukebox had an extensive collection of great '70s and '80s music, and the fireplace gave the tiny den a warm, relaxed ambience.

Beer seemed to be the most popular beverage (though there was a full bar), with six or seven brews on tap and several more available in bottles. By the time my friend and I had killed a few, we had settled in so comfortably that we decided to make an evening of it and order some food. It turns out that All State is famous for its burgers, and for good reason. I didn't feel even a little bad about getting cheese AND bacon on mine.

With good beer; great burgers; a cozy, friendly atmosphere; and everyone from Dire Straits to David Bowie making their rotations through the jukebox, how could you not love this place?

It’s that time of the year again. Time to spread the yuletide spirit, to shop until your credit card drops, and most importantly, to boost your country’s economy with the Christmas dollar. If you happen to live in a country whose economy isn’t sporting a jolly ol’ Santa Claus-like potbelly, well, it’s time to do your part and spend, spend, spend. What an incredible time of the year, indeed: not only do you have the power to make friends and loved ones smile from ear to ear, but also your government.

So, then...what to buy? Here in New York City, if you want it, you can have it, from a date with Paris Hilton (I’m assuming that can be arranged —- hey, if she’ll date Nick Carter, she’ll date anyone!) to a Macy’s shopping spree. But this Christmas season, instead of buying little Bobby one of those distasteful video games that replicate actual World War II battle scenes (don’t even get me started) or your lovely wife a new diamond ring (c’mon —- why stop there when you can finance a new car?), head to the cream of the bookselling crop, Strand Bookstore.

Yes, that’s right, a book. Maybe not as exciting as a blinking, blipping doo-hickey, but a gift that promises to be much more enriching. Originally opened in 1927, Strand is a family-run establishment that somehow crams 18 miles of books into two floors of hardcover and paperback madness. Looking for a rare Graham Greene biopic? Head to Strand. Want to find that sci-fi fanatic a complete episode guide to Star Trek? Head to Strand.

You’re likely to find this popular store, located just below Union Square, totally packed, especially before Christmas, but bite your lip and press on through the stacks and stacks and stacks of surprisingly well-organized books. Stock changes every day, and this is one of the best spots in the city to find best-sellers and new releases at up to and over 50% off the cover price. In other words, a shopping excursion at Strand is bound to be much more of an adventure than, say, an outing to Barnes & Noble.

People, the written word is dying (and attention spans with it). Do your part by spreading its goodness —- hook your friends and family up with a book. Cater to their interests —- if its sports they’re into, search for one of Hunter S. Thompson’s works. If its homes and gardening, find "101 Tips to Beat Down Martha Stewart While She’s Still In Prison." The possibilities are endless... especially when you’re shopping at New York’s one and only Strand Bookstore.

Unlike his other ventures, Keith McNally’s Pravda is known as a cocktail lounge/bar rather than a dining establishment, although Pravda’s food menu is well worth boasting about also. The décor and ambience is similar to McNally’s other restaurants (Lucky Strike, Balthazar, Pastis, and Schiller’s) with a post-modern Soviet twist. The drink and food menu is Russian-influenced, and you can expect to find cocktails fittingly named Leninade or Kempinsky Fizz, both of which I recommend.

Actually, anything you try on the cocktail list will not disappoint. Every ingredient used in Pravda’s cocktails, down the lemon wedge garnish, is fresh and organic. The bartenders take pride in the fact that every drink has been carefully orchestrated so that the right balance of taste, texture, sour, and sweetness is considered and artfully mixed. My favorite cocktails, in addition to the two above, are the Russian Mary (made with chili- and horseradish-infused vodka) and the Nolita (made with mango-infused vodka).

In keeping with the Russian-inspired theme, there are also over 70 different vodkas offered on the menu. The traditional way to drink vodka is chilled in a shot glass. At Pravda, the vodka will be served brilliantly cold, straight out of the freezer (including the shot glass), with pickled mushrooms as a compliment. Notable offerings include Zubrowka -- a great Polish vodka to try which is slightly earthy and grassy. Staraya Moskva is a rare find and my favorite Russian vodka -- the taste is clean, smooth, and easy to drink. Stoli Gold, also Russian, is always a sure bet. If you can’t decide on a vodka, you might consider ordering the iced rack. With the iced rack, you can sample six different vodka shots arranged in a steel tray packed with shaved ice to keep each shot chilled. In addition to the huge range of vodkas, Pravda also offers its own house-infused vodkas. Two of my favorites are ginger-infused vodka and raspberry-infused vodka.

The food on the menu is a great compliment to the extensive drink list. It varies anywhere from cheap, crispy, and oh-so-good french fries to beluga caviar by the ounce, served with fresh buckwheat bilinis. I would recommend the steak sandwich with fries if you have a big appetite or the smoked salmon and caviar pizza for those that want to share. During winter, the hot and hearty borscht is also a favorite. But (*and this is very important*) leave room for dessert! The chocolate cake is reason alone to frequent Pravda. It’s made to order, so you have to wait about 15 minutes for it to bake, but it is so worth it...the cake is served warm and runny in the middle, with fresh whipped cream on top.

Overall, it’s a lovely winter spot. From the warm, cozy booths to the vodkas to the mulled red wine (this is seasonal, so get it while winter is here), it’s a great place to sample superb drinks, people-watch, and enjoy some good food.

Strolling does not seem like the appropriate word to describe any sort of walking during the days before Christmas. Instead, an image of irritable husbands weighed down with bags as their wives savagely push other shoppers out of their stomping grounds seems to be a more likely scenario.

While this may be true of your average all-American mall or downtown, strolling towards the forever classy Central Park through the avenues of the Upper East Side can instead give you a sense of a Christmas of bygone times, when couples clacked by in carriages and ornate buildings were adorned with wreaths and lights with particular care and precision.

Begin at a New York landmark that seems like it was oddly plopped down between the Tiffany’s and Sephora’s of the Upper East Side-St. Patrick’s Cathedral (460 Madison Ave., between 50th and 51st sts.), a grandiose Gothic cathedral, its two towers stretching just as far as the most modern Manhattan buildings as its ornate carvings entice the wondering eye. Starting your day here, before trotting off to deal with the more superficial aspects of the Christmas holiday, can leave you religiously fulfilled, with four Sunday masses (at 7, 8, 9, and 10:15am) that will certainly live up to the cathedral’s world-renowned reputation.

Only after having filled yourself with the quiet reverence overflowing any grand cathedral should you be allowed to dare pass (quickly breaking the old-fashioned New York feel) two of the most hectic, noisy, and aggravating areas during Manhattan’s Christmas season-Saks Fifth Avenue (311 Fifth Ave., at 49th St.) and Bloomingdales (1000 Third Ave., between 59th and 60th sts.). Even though experienced New Yorkers have difficulties winding their way through the sidewalks of these department stores brimming with determined women, the lights, wreaths, and shimmering decorations flowing around them have the quaint ability to make those hard shoves seem like gentle taps.

Moving back to old New York, only blocks away from Bloomingdales, stop for a hearty lunch or mid-day snack at the socialite’s chocolate playground, Serendipity 3 (225 E 60th St., between 2nd and 3rd aves.). While infamous for their gigantic frozen hot chocolate and other equally as tempting desserts and ice creams, Serendipity 3 also has substantial lunch and dinner fare for the persuasive sensible side in you to enjoy while eyeing the somewhat upper-crust (at least compared to the more common ice-cream shops) decor of this goodies spot.

After leaving Serendipity 3, your face smeared with chocolate, get another kind of fill-one of gigantic, glamorous decorations-by backtracking to the crossing of Fifth Avenue and 57th Street, where a gigantic crystal snowflake will be waiting to stun you with its blinding reflections of the sun. Take a moment to pity the drivers struck by its magnificent glare.

Now it’s time to discard the husbands and polish those credit cards as the women make their way to shop, or, for most people, window shop, on Madison Avenue among the refined shops of Ralph Lauren, Gianni Versace, Moschino, La Perla, Missoni, and Cesare Paciotti, among other fur- and silk-filled boutiques. Even if you don’t have the credit limit to splurge on the ridiculously-priced fashion "essentials," parade inside like you’re Vanderbilt married to a Hilton and ignore those snot-nosed glances from the 90-pound mannequins-where else can you caress the thousand-dollar Armani jacket?

As you stride to the end at Central Park, coming to the corner of Fifth Avenue and 59th Street, take a moment to devour the past hours. Look enviously up at the flags of the Plaza blowing furiously in the strong icy wind and glance towards the upper suites of the prominent hotel, ones with vast views of the scarecrow trees and the never-ending rows of carriages led by the clip-clopping horses of Central Park. Turn towards the cradle of oversized teddy bears and life-size toy soldiers reminiscent of The Nutcracker, the newly reopened FAO Schwartz on 58th Street, and smile as children bound inside. And look around to see the shimmering facets of modern-day life slowly fade-until your vision blurs to see men striding confidently in top hats and canes as little girls in their Sunday dresses and stockings shriek, trying to catch the newly falling snowflakes on their outstretched tongues.

Whether you're spending the holidays alone or are simply tired of commercials depicting the fabulously well-to-do surprising each other with red-bowed luxury sedans, there are plenty of reasons to enjoy a Blue Christmas. Forget the treacle sentiments of the Elvis song —- a true Blue Christmas is spent at your local dive bar, sharing miseries with the likewise afflicted while staring at colored lights reflected through the amber blur of whiskey. So, with that in mind, if you do find yourself sad, alone, and Manhattan-bound this Christmas, you could do a lot worse than spending it drunk at the Blarney Cove (510 E. 14th St., between Ave. A & B, 212-473-9284.)

Located on a particularly ugly stretch of 14th Street, the Blarney Cove has resisted the encroaching gentrification of the Lower East Side and resolutely remains a neighborhood dive bar. With the exception of a few back tables surrounding a quarter-eating Magic Touch trivia machine, the seating is limited to a dozen or so stools pressed against the long, narrow bar. When the Magic Touch is occupied, there's not much left to do but drink —- all in all an agreeable option, given the bar's low prices. The entrance of a regular patron will occasionally earn an enthusiastic "whoop" from Danny the bartender, but any commotion dies down quickly, and the Blarney Cove remains fairly quiet, except for the occasional jukebox selection. Danny, by the way, is well-known for refusing payment for the bags of chips clipped behind the bars, and on a good night, the third or fourth round of drinks, as well. In truth, I have not checked whether the Blarney Cove is open on Christmas day, but god help the dispossessed of 14th Street if it is closed.

Anyway, Blue Christmas or not, keep the Blarney Cove in mind this holiday season. Everyone in New York surely experiences at least a Blue Shopping Day, and the bar's convenient location makes it a perfect escape and short walk from the commercial bustle and forced holiday cheer of Union Square.