A New York Minute

Ratings Guide:
Half handshake, half chest-bump hug – 5 stars
Chest bump – 4 stars
Fist bump – 3 stars
High five – 2 stars
Handshake – 1 star
Manly ass slap – ½ star
Fone and fone – 0 stars



I was just in New York for work. Flew in on a Tuesday night and back home Wednesday evening, so only got to enjoy a couple of places. However, the trip capped off the most amazing famous-people-sighting week I’ve ever had. Or probably ever will have. In fact, my entire week felt like the “Celebs, They’re Just Like US” section of US Weekly.



Restaurant: Latitude
Location: 783 8th Ave, New York, NY

We were staying at the W in Times Square, so we were in tourist-trap central. Right across the street was the Olive Garden. Now, I joke a lot with friends about things that make me embarrassed to be an American. Songs like “My Humps” and “Fergilicious” and “This Is Why I’m Hot” reaching #1 on the charts (for several weeks at that). Movies like “Norbit” and “Evan Almighty” and “Fantastic Four” opening up #1 at the box office. Guys who eat hot dogs every day for a week and write a blog about it. Our President. Americans who travel to different countries and expect everyone to speak English. Everyone on a Disney Cruise. Stuff like that. Well, the Olive Garden in Times Square just got added to that list. The line was out the door and the wait had to be almost two hours long. I can’t even talk about it. I love all-you-can-eat breadsticks as much as the next guy, but you’re in New York. There are a million places to choose from, and somehow places like the Olive Garden and TGI Friday’s are packed. Who knows, maybe they’re all foreigners who want to experience something “American”. Either way I hate everything about it.

We asked the doorman where to go, stating that we wanted to go someplace where we wouldn’t see any tourists (which is probably impossible since we were in the heart of Times Square), and he suggested Latitude, which was only a block from the hotel. When I was in London years ago I asked the same question to the concierge there (a place for dinner that locals go), and he said “Hard Rock Café”. I almost punched him. The doorman at the W was much wiser and at least reco’d a place that we didn’t recognize as a tourist trap. When we got there the place was pretty much dead. About 6 people at the bar, and another couple of booths filled with people. As far as we could tell it was definitely not a tourist hot spot (but what the F do we know?). We started off with some hot wings, BBQ wings, and mini burgers. Well, when I say, “started off”, we ordered them as apps before we ordered dinner, but they were delivered at the exact same time as our entrées, so we didn’t really start with them. The table just ended up being like a bar-food version of tapas. Not a bad idea actually. For my meal I had ordered the Spedino. Which is a fried mozzarella sandwich. Which is actually just a fancy way of saying “large square mozzarella stick”. It was delicious. It was battered in white wine or something, and served with some sort of white wine sauce. It added this sweet, elegant taste to fried cheese. A nice combo, I thought. I really enjoyed it. It was a little small, but it was only $7, so you get what you pay for. The mini burgers were decent. Nothing special, but nice and filling, so that was a plus. The hot wings were hot. Real hot. Make-your-forehead-sweat hot. Mess-with-your-intestines-the-next-day hot. I liked them. They were a little dry, but it was late and I was drinking, so I didn’t mind. The BBQ wings were just OK. Nothing special about them, nothing horrible about them.

And that was it. Everyone liked their meal (I think Joe got the pulled pork and Chris got some other sandwich, and they both seemed to enjoy it). And I liked the laid-back atmosphere. You didn’t feel like you were a block away from Times Square. Fist bump.



Restaurant: Bread Tribeca
Location: 301 Church St., New York, NY

So here comes the US Weekly edition of Born To Fork. On Monday I ate at Cuatro with my wife and some friends. I wanted to go to Room 21, but we were afraid it was too expensive, and I love Cuatro, so we opted for that. But when we were done eating we walked down to Room 21 just to check it out. The place was empty on the inside, but the outdoor patio (which is amazing) was packed. I walk in the front door for a look around, and there are only two people in the place and they’re sitting at the bar having a drink. But they aren’t just “two people”. It’s Chris Tucker and Brett Ratner. And I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to go up and say “hi”, but the other part of me doesn’t want to be that douche bag who walks up to celebs and makes a big scene. I’ve done this twice in my career, and both time I walked away feeling like an a-hole (it was to Ryne Sandberg and Mark Grace, who both were cordial, but also both had a hint of “please stop talking to me and let me enjoy myself” about them. And they’re not even big-time celebs, so I can only imagine what a big shot like Chris Tucker might do. But in Grace’s defense, he was trying to get laid at a bar in Milwaukee at the time and I was throwing some serious salt in his game.). I called my buddy Geoff, who in the past told me that his dream would be to have Chris Tucker narrate his life. I decided that I was going to get Geoff on the phone, then walk up to Chris and ask him to say “hi” to Geoff. But Geoff told me he might pass out if he talked to Chris Tucker, so I decided against it. And you know what? As much as I didn’t want to pull a d-bag 101 move, I was kicking myself the rest of the night for not saying something to them. I’ve got to imagine they’d be pretty cool guys. Oh, the other thing is that Chris Tucker doesn’t look nearly as fat in person as he does in the “Rush Hour 3” trailers.

Fast-forward to Wednesday. Following our meeting we headed across the street to Bread Tribeca. After we sat down and got a Peroni in our hands, I randomly was looking around the place. It was pretty empty, but then again, it was two in the afternoon. It’s one of those places that just feels like New York. Huge windows that look onto a street that’s constantly filled with people. I can’t really explain it, but you know how certain cities or places have a feeling? Well, to me, New York is a city that has a feeling. And this place was one of those places in New York where the whole experience just felt very New York. Follow? I didn’t think so. Anyway, I’m looking around a mostly empty restaurant and in the corner I see Anne Hathaway. That’s right, the star of “The Devil Wears Prada”, which I’ve seen about ten times in the past week thanks to HBO. After the whole Chris and Brett sighting I started to feel like Perez Hilton. I was tempted to walk up to her and say something like, “Your boobs looked amazing in Brokeback Mountain and Havoc” or “I LOVED you in First Daughter” just to see her reaction. Instead I just turned back around and enjoyed my lunch.

Speaking of, the food at Bread Tribeca was really good. I had the Mozzarella panini, tomato soup, and some mashed potatoes. The panini was pretty good. I liked the bread (which isn’t surprising since that’s the name of the place), and the sandwich was pretty simple – just mozzarella, tomato, and basil leaves. The basil leaves were pretty over-powering. If you like basil, you’d love this sandwich. But if you’re just so-so on basil (as I am), it is a bit distracting and takes away from the overall enjoyment of the sandwich. That being said, I enjoyed it anyway. The potatoes were really good as well. Perfectly creamy, and flavored only with some pepper. It really was a nice change of pace from most mashed potatoes, which try to do way too much in the way of seasoning or garlic or butter or chives or whatever. These felt like a better version of the kind that Mom used to make (actually, a slightly better version of my brother-in-law Kerry’s potatoes, which are extra creamy and extra delicious). But the big winner was the tomato soup, and I don’t even really like tomatoes. In fact, I think the only tomato soup that I have ever liked was a tomato and cheese soup we used to make back at Bruegger’s Bagels when I was working there in college. When this soup came out I was terrified. It was just as thick as the mashed potatoes. In fact, it wasn’t really soup; it was more like mashed tomatoes. But you know what (and you already know what, since I told you about five sentences ago)? It was delicious. I mean like I-couldn’t-put-my-spoon-down-and-could-have-eaten-three-more-bowls-of-it delicious. I don’t know what it was that made it so good. I’m not even 100% sure what else was in it, but whatever it was I liked it. Bread Tribeca gets a real solid chest bump. I want to give it a little more, but it is just a tad pricey. But then again it is gourmet and it is in New York and it does have Anne Hathaway’s blessing.

But the story isn’t over yet. After lunch we had a “limo” take us to the airport. It smelled like feet mixed with B.O. But like the feet and B.O. of an Eastern European athlete. And it just stuck with you. I smelled it the whole plane ride home. It was like that Seinfeld episode. Not good. After my flight got cancelled and I was moved from the four o’clock flight to the six o’clock flight, which was then delayed until seven, I decided to give up my seat altogether and get a free ticket out of it. The only catch was that with my new flight I had to fly through D.C. before heading back to Chicago. During my hour layover in the nation’s capitol, I needed to eat some dinner, so I went to Wendy’s, which was the only thing really available. As I’m waiting in line I turn around and see ANOTHER celebrity behind me in line (I use the term “celebrity” lightly here). It was the Pride of Providence. The runner up in the first season of The Contender. The one-and-only, Peter Manfredo Jr. He was actually a pretty nice guy. I talked to him for about 30 seconds before the guy behind him mauled him with questions and conversation. When I told my wife I saw him, she was kind of excited because she loved The Contender. She said, “Was he the guy with the jacked-up nose? I liked him.” Jacked-up is an understatement. I’ve never seen a nose so destroyed in my entire life. I’m amazed he can even still breath. The whole experience was a nice way to cap off my week.

Got a question? Send it to josh@borntofork.com.