The Big Apple... and Beyond!

Located in the West Village near Morton’s Square—where everyone’s favorite celebrity couple, the Olsen twins, just moved to—EN Japanese Brasserie combines an upscale sensibility with reasonably priced gourmet cuisine, a rare combination indeed in this otherwise expensive neighborhood. This welcoming addition to the area had already won me over by the time the warm, freshly-made tofu arrived. After that, the rest was gravy.

Space is certainly a rare commodity in New York, and there’s plenty of it here, with a large, high-ceilinged bar in the front and an open, airy dining area enclosed by grey-brick walls and golden-brown wood paneling. The whole place practically drips with feng shui.

We sat at a square, black table that wrapped around a large column lined with what resembled towers the Doozers tirelessly built from vegetable protein sticks on Fraggle Rock. We could also see into the bustling, raucous kitchen, which replicated the energy of Kitchen Stadium on Iron Chef.

From the kimono-clad hostess and friendly manager to our busy server who was more than happy to make recommendations and answer our questions, the service at EN was top-notch. No pretentiousness, no attitude, and none of the bullshit too often experienced at some upscale New York eateries. After handing our coats to the manager, who returned with a numbered claim ticket, we were given the single-page menus, which are cleverly fastened to thin wooden plaques.

The aforementioned homemade tofu, served either warm or chilled with wari-joyu, is served fresh daily at 6, 7:30, 9, 10:30, and 11:30pm, so plan accordingly—this is a must-try dish. Our server used a wooden spoon to scoop a small piece of this creamy goodness onto each of our plates, and poured a splash of wari-joyu on top. Together with that sauce, which tastes like a smokier, sweeter soy sauce, this simple presentation of what many consider an aesthetic nightmare turned plain tofu into a gastronomic delight. Another bowl, please?

EN’s menu offers an excellent selection of sushi, sashimi, and seafood, as well as appetizing rice and noodle dishes. To no fault of theirs, I don’t eat meat or seafood, and with my choices somewhat limited, I ordered the fresh tofu ($7), miso soup ($5), and En garlic shiso fried rice ($7), which was more than enough. All were served in "mod Japanese" bowls and dishes, and the rice, which was perfectly fluffed and topped with thin shavings of Japanese basil, was nearly as good as the tofu. Trixie also gushed about the grilled black cod ($12).

For dessert, we split the soba tea pudding ($6), another seemingly simple dish that reveals a surprisingly complex flavor. Simply put, EN Japanese Brasserie is one of the top restaurants to open in the Big Apple this year. Get there before the secret gets out.

There’s a new kid on the block in the East Village, and he’s threatening to take the area by storm. After paying his dues at wildly popular eateries such as Nobu, Milan-born Onju Han has made a big splash with his first restaurant, the appropriately named Onju.

Having just opened 2 weeks prior to our visit, the city was still going through its normal discovery period of new restaurants, so we were glad to have found this romantic spot before it becomes the hotspot it’s bound to be. On an early Sunday evening, Han himself showed us to our table, one of four unique oak booths that use the cream-colored wall as a back. Each table is adorned with small, gas-lit candles that perfectly mingle with low-hanging lamps wrapped in burlap throughout the dining area. With long palms near a small, charming bar, and modern jazz playing over the stereo, it’s clear that Han has taken notes throughout his culinary career, and has now passed the test.

Onju’s menu, however, is its strongest suit. With a focus on using healthy, organic ingredients, the offerings here are mouthwatering: we started with arancini with white truffle infuse mozzarella ($9), and for the main course I ordered wild chanterelle ravioli with beet sauce and tofu cream ($18). My gorgeous date tried champagne and salmon risotto ($18). Fresh bread and olive oil was provided, and we both had a glass of red wine ($8).

Light, crispy, and served with diced red peppers, the arancini was delectable, and reminded my companion of the first arancini she ever tried in Milan, Italy. The al dente ravioli, covered in a creamy tofu sauce with swirls of red beet, somehow tasted even better than the menu made it sound. A single, crisp flake of salmon stuck out from atop the delicate risotto, which was filled with small, fresh morsels of fish. Needless to say, there was hardly any semblance of a conversation until both of our plates had been practically licked clean. We nearly gave in and ordered bread pudding with persimmons and grappa-flavored ice cream, but decided to save that for our next visit.

Ambitious, yet subtle, Onju just might be the next big thing in New York City’s hip dining scene.

Though its name might suggest otherwise, Caravan of Dreams is more New Age than Middle Eastern—think Deepak Chopra goes to dinner. This earthy East Village resto, which also conducts yoga and cooking classes, dishes up food from an open, kosher-friendly kitchen, catering to the herbivores of the world with everything from "Un-Chicken Nachos" to appetizers, entrees, and desserts made entirely of raw, unprocessed ingredients. If it’s fake meat and vegetables you’re into, you’ve come to the right place.

As we stepped down through large, red velvet curtains, the unmistakable scent of "healthy" engulfed us: healthy people eating healthy food... and spending a healthy wad of cash to do it. We avoided what looked to be a 10-minute wait on a Friday night by making reservations, and were seated at a small two-top near the front that stayed surprisingly warm despite the cold weather that crept in whenever the door was opened. Brick walls, low ceilings, and candlelit tables created a cozy atmosphere, while a night mural with stars and a crescent-shaped moon mirror brought to mind granola, dreamcatchers, and hacky sacks. Luckily, there would be no Phish, String Cheese Incident, or other jam bands pumped over Caravan’s in-house system, which instead rolled out a soothing amalgam of jazz, swing, and big band covers. Hey, I love me some big band, but the cover of The Doors’ "Light My Fire" was a little over the top.

Deciding on just one dish from Caravan’s book-length menu was daunting. Broken down into multiple categories, the fare runs the gamut from fruit smoothies and organic salads to raw entrees and open-faced sandwiches. After some deliberation we finally settled on the Live Love Boat ($11), nutty "meatballs" served with jicama and napa cabbage, for our appetizer. I chose Angel’s Pesto Pizza ($17) for my entree, while my beautiful companion went with the Ravioli of the Day ($17), which today was spinach. We also sipped on a liter of sangria that, while tasty, seemed to be cut with only juice instead of liquor.

I thought the server had brought the wrong dish... silly me! I should have known that Caravan of Dreams would take an untraditional approach to pizza! With mounds of fresh vegetables and grilled seitan piled high atop sourdough crust smothered in pesto sauce, this was probably the most non-pizza pizza I’ve ever had. I also snaked a few bites of ravioli, which was covered in a creamy almond alfredo sauce that matched well with the slices of avocado and leaves of chard that lined the dish. We topped it off with a decadent serving of Rice Dream Mocha Pie ($7).

The food was pretty good, the service was pretty good, and the prices were pretty reasonable... but we both left with upset stomachs for whatever reason. Hey, nothing an herbal supplement, a dog pose, and some Chopra philosophy can’t cure, right?

Don’t believe the Waterfront Ale House’s motto: "Home of warm beer, lousy food, and ugly owner." OK, I didn’t meet the owner, so he could very well be an unsightly chap. But the beer isn’t warm, and the food is anything but lousy, so it’s safe to say that Waterfront’s self-deprecating tagline is nothing but a tongue-in-cheek assessment of Cobble Hill’s premier brewpub.

With little bottles of sauce lining the dining area’s booths, an illuminated diorama of downtown Manhattan near the bar, and a silhouette of the Statue of Liberty at the other end of the bar, Waterfront has a distinctly '90s feel to it, which we loved. Oddly enough, Caribbean, samba, and jazz music filled the dining area—those kinds of tunes are normally reserved for faux-American taverns in tropical tourist traps like Cancun, not Big Apple pubs. Add seasonal decorations such as autumn leaves and pumpkins, a hastily thrown together collection of trophies, and a bright, shining popcorn machine near the front, and you have the rare restaurant that isn’t concerned with being overtly kitschy, nor with mimicking new, passing trends.

We were pleasantly surprised to discover a diverse menu at the Waterfront, which also has a location in Manhattan at 540 Second Avenue. Though you’ll find standard pub dishes such as spicy chicken wings, salads, and sandwiches, there are also slightly more "exotic" offerings on tap, including grilled vegetables and fresh mozzarella on warm focaccia, steamed vegetable dumplings, and a tandoori vegetable burger served with fruit chutney, which is what I settled on. My Nordic queen tried the grilled portobello and goat cheese salad. Both dishes were excellent—the fruit chutney on my veggie burger was a perfect match.

In addition to live jazz performances on Saturday nights, Waterfront’s other big draw is its beer selection, with a seasonal rotation of 15 brews on tap, which included Hazed & Confused, Anchor Holiday Ale, and Abbayet Leffebrown on our visit. Some beers are slightly more expensive, but the standard prices are $3.75 for a mug, $4.75 for a pint. There’s also a full bar that includes homemade specials like the dubious "Grandma’s Apple Pie Vodka." The idea of mixing apple pie and vodka together had never crossed my mind, but maybe Grandma knows something I don’t.

For a few beers, two entrées, and tax, our bill came to $35, though Waterfront’s comfortable atmosphere and casual crowd nearly lulled us into ordering up a few more beers. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a more welcoming, unique bistro anywhere in the New York area.

I’m sincerely touched whenever a host engages in a swearing match with another host to secure my business.

If you’ve ever ventured down Indian Row, located on East Sixth Street between First and Second Avenues, you’ve probably experienced the pleading, high-pressure tactics the men stationed outside each restaurant use to lure you in. With around 15 Indian joints all in a row, you can’t blame them. Besides, I love listening to them frantically tout dinner specials and stop just short of grabbing my arm and pulling me in. Some of these guys should be used-car salesmen.

We usually go around the block to one of the three restos on First Avenue, just below Sixth Street, and decided that we’d hit Panna II, since for one reason or another, we had never tried it. To be honest, most of these places serve nearly identical cuisine for nearly identical prices... but the way-over-the-top decorations are what define each one.

Wait, let me back up. If you’re in the mood for a few drinks over dinner, stop at a nearby liquor store to pick up a bottle of wine, or hit the downstairs deli near Panna II to pick up a couple bottles of beer. All these restaurants allow you to bring your own alcohol, with no corkage fee. You should see their faces when a few friends and I show up with 40s of Colt 45 on occasion.

Panna II is up a short flight of stairs and to the right—this is important, because there’s a restaurant immediately underneath it, and one to the left of the stairs. This is where the aforementioned swearing match happened:

"Right this way my friend. Happy Thanksgiving, special dinner tonight."
"F$#k you! They’re coming here! Right this way my friend."

The funniest thing is that these two guys stand outside all day and night together, chatting it up like the best of friends... until prospective patrons arrive. Then it’s no holds barred, all bets are off. After the diner’s choice has been made, it’s back to friendly conversation!

I love Panna’s slogan: "Where Chile-Pepper Lights Meets Christmas-Tree Lights." Ha! They aren’t kidding! All kinds of differently shaped red lights hang low from the ceiling–I had to bend down lest I get hit in the head. Amongst the mishmash of lights, you’ll also find beach balls, disco balls, Hawaiian leis... yes, the kitsch-o-meter shoots right through the roof here.

Oh... the food. It’s standard, solid, Indian Row fare. Don’t expect anything spectacular, but the price can’t be beat: $16 for an appetizer sampler, garlic naan bread, and two entrees. The friendly, somewhat quirky staff also brought out complimentary papadum, mango chutney, spiced tea, mango ice cream, and... um... in honor of Thanksgiving, Indian-style turkey. I don’t eat meat, but we thought that was pretty cute. To top it all off, they even gave us 2005 Panna II calendars! What marketing geniuses!

Located just off the burgeoning Atlantic Avenue strip in Brooklyn’s Cobble Hill, Kili aims for the vibe and atmosphere of a cozy hangout you might retire to after a long day on Africa’s tallest mountain. Though it may not exactly replicate a Mount Kilimanjaro ski lodge, it’s close enough.

After running as fast as we could from Floyd, another Atlantic Avenue bar we found overrun with a drab post-fraternity crowd, we were relieved to pull up a stool at Kili’s long black bar and relax over a few drinks, good music, and a warm fireplace. Beyond the fireplace, which was stoked all night by the amiable bartender and various patrons eager to share their fire-building expertise, there wasn’t really much in the way of ski-lodge paraphernalia, save for a snowboard in the window and intricately carved snowflake designs that lined plush, wraparound booths. Still, we didn’t come here expecting over-the-top kitsch, and the dimly lit atmosphere, accentuated by candlelit wooden tables and a circular, wrought-iron chandelier with low-hanging lamps, was enough to lure us into a multiple-drink sojourn at a bar we feared might be packed with hipsters and hipsterettes. If Kili were in Manhattan, it probably would have been.

Instead, we found an unpretentious, laid-back crowd content with snacking from Kili’s small food menu (the pumpkin ravioli at $12.95 sounded delicious), sipping on reasonably priced drinks, or toasting complimentary marshmallows over the fireplace with two-pronged, silver roasters provided by the bar. A few DJs took turns on the decks, spinning a smooth mix of soul, classics, jazzy hip-hop, vintage Motown, and porn funk. Indeed, for a while, it seemed that Shaft himself might walk through the door at any minute.

Kili features $2 Pabsts and $3 Buds during happy hour, with Brooklyn Lager, Stella Artois, and Hoegarden on tap (though they had unfortunately run out of the latter on our visit). There is no specialty drink menu, but the liquor supply looked to be fully stocked, and our mixed drinks were stiffer than spiked punch at a 1977 prom (make sure to tip your bartender).

In a neighborhood moving in the gentrified direction of Williamsburg, Kili is a winter-friendly joint that’s perfect for unwinding over a few drinks and a cozy fireplace. Here’s hoping it stays so low-key.

There’s no shortage of French bistros in New York, but once you leave the comfortable city confines and head to the outer boroughs, the pickings inevitably get slimmer. That’s no problem in Brooklyn’s on-the-move Cobble Hill neighborhood, where you’ll find Bacchus, an unassuming, unpretentious wine bar/restaurant that’s perfect for cozying up with a date and sipping on good vino in a relaxing atmosphere.

Move past the crowded front room and see-through kitchen and try to snag a table in the back seating area, which looks out onto Bacchus’ cute patio garden through tall glass doors. Red brick walls, candlelit tables, and bottles of wine lining sections of the walls and ceiling comprise the entirety of Bacchus’ minimalist décor, which rightfully plays second fiddle to an incredible wine selection that includes over 200 varieties. If you’re not in the mood for sour grapes, peruse the equally extensive beer selections, with over 25 on offer.

Our friendly server was oddly delighted that we only ordered wine and dessert. She returned with a basket of fresh bread to snack on while we awaited our crème brûlée and listened to what sounded like Coldplay over the bistro’s stereo (man alive, does that band sound dated and awful already!). The rest of the congested dining area was filled with couples taking advantage of Bacchus’ Wednesday special of two dinners for the price of one.

Over the course of an hour or so, we sampled about four glasses of wine each, and together devoured the insanely creamy crème brûlée in the span of about 3 minutes. You see, my beautiful companion has somewhat of a love affair with the burnt sugar casing on her favorite dessert, and unless you grab a spoon and dig in, she’s liable to pull a Houdini and make it vanish into thin air.

If you’re feeling a little guilty for splurging on a rare Persian vase or vintage chandelier you found in one of the many antique shops on Atlantic Avenue, drown your conscience and indulge in a world-class selection of wine and beer just down the street at Bacchus. But don’t expect to put your bill on a Visa or Mastercard—only cash and American Express are accepted.

There just isn’t enough room in New York City for one of the best collections of modern installation art found anywhere in the country. In steps the Dia:Beacon, a marvel of 20th-century industrial architecture that was donated to the Dia Art Foundation in 1999. Once the site of glass, steel, concrete, and paper manufacturing, this building on the Hudson River now houses a remarkable collection of art from the likes of Donald Judd, Hanne Darboven, Andy Warhol, and Richard Serra, amongst many others. City-dwelling art lovers couldn’t ask for a more stimulating day trip away from the daily Big Apple grind.

Located just 60 miles north of NYC in Beacon, NY, the Dia:Beacon is easily accessible via the Metro-North Hudson line from Grand Central Station. The MTA offers getaway packages that include discounted train fare and admission to the Dia gallery (click here for more info). It’s a pleasant 80-minute ride on the train, especially on the way back, when the tracks run close to the Hudson River.

The building itself is spectacular, featuring 34,000 square feet of skylights that allow varying levels of light, depending on the time of day, to mingle with the impressive work inside. As you walk into the Riggio Galleries, you’ll immediately be struck by its expansiveness, with large, walled-off rooms and high white ceilings allowing plenty of room for the installations to spread out without crowding each other. Make sure you grab a map to help guide your tour.

You’ll likely walk through the room containing Warhol’s Shadows first. Surprisingly enough, this was one of my least favorite installations, and certainly does not count as one of his finer pieces (though, as you know, art is way subjective, so maybe you’ll be floored by it). I recommend hightailing it to Darboven’s magnificent, mind-boggling, multi-room study of time and pop culture. Magazine covers, photos, postcards, celebrity photos, and patterns are all framed in precise order and hung horizontally along the room’s walls as high as possible. The sheer scope of material involved here is amazing, and one could easily spend an entire day studying each frame’s contents. This installation alone is worth the price of admission.

Judd’s wooden boxes, Michael Heizer’s in-floor metal shapes, and John Chamberlain’s mangled metal sculptures are also highlights of an overall impressive assortment of work from some of the most respected artists from the ‘60s to the present. Don’t forget about Louise Bourgeious’ fantastical, unsettling sculptures on the third floor, as well as Bruce Nauman’s haunting installation in the basement.

After you’re done walking through the gallery, head to the gift shop for books and postcards (no prints available!), and if you’re hungry, the on-site café offers a variety of overpriced snacks and beverages. If it’s a nice day, however, pack a picnic lunch and a bottle of wine and relax outside on Dia’s well-manicured grounds.

For more information on the Dia:Beacon, please click here.