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I’m a month late or one year early with my Valentine’s Day post. I like to think the latter. Valentine’s Day is an annoying day to begin with. When you’re single, VDay is annoying because advertising, friends, and your mom will make you feel like a troll because you’re alone no matter how fabulous you are, and when you’re in a relationship, it’s annoying because it’s impossible to get a reservation anywhere, and even if you do, the restaurant will only offer mass-produced pre-made food from an overpriced prix-fixe menu. Saint Valentine, you suck. Anyway, since the last disappointing Valentine’s Day meal in 2005, David and I have been avoiding all restaurants requiring reservations, especially those offering “special” prix-fixe menus. This Valentine’s Day, we went to Sapporo East, my favorite cheap East Village Japanese restaurant since college. MORE »
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By now most of you probably know how much I love pork and duck, but there is another side to me. A fishier side. Growing up, I actually preferred seafood over red meat. I was a weird kid, and unlike my brother who loved Big Macs and galbi (갈비, Korean beef ribs), I loved vegetables, ice cold naeng myun (냉면, cold buckwheat noodles), and hwe (회, Korean-style raw fish). (By the way, I believe this is one of the reasons I’m vertically challenged and my brother is not, lack of good ole’ American beef. Alas, I’m sure my childhood fondness for coffee and jumping from great heights also played a part.) So a few weeks ago, when Hannah (my sister-in-law) told me Yuraku, her mom’s restaurant in Flushing, started serving “live fish” flown in straight from Korea, I knew a trip to Queens was in my not-so-distant future. MORE »
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Unless you’ve been living under a rock or ensconced in a gated community, you probably know it’s a recession. Some say we’re even in a depression. And although I’m lucky enough to still have a job, you never know what may happen next. (Look kindly upon me corporate gods of Midtown!) As a result, I’ve been trying to be more conscious about cost when going out to eat, even more so than before. Last week, David wanted sushi and suggested Le Miu (which unbeknownst to us, closed recently), but not wanting to pay at least a hundred on a regular work night, I suggested Sachiko’s, which was right around the corner from where we were standing. (We had just finished looking at another crappy overpriced apartment in the Lower East Side. It turns out after a few weeks apartment hunting, our crappy overpriced LES apartment is slightly less crappy and less overpriced than we actually thought.) David didn’t seem too excited as usual, but he agreed after some coaxing, and five minutes later we were sitting inside Sachiko’s on Clinton. MORE »

I’ll be making this post short, because I don’t want to waste more time with Megu than I already have. Basically, I went to Megu New York last week because it was Restaurant Week (i.e. participating restaurants offer a 3 course prix fixe meal for $35) and had a very mediocre meal. And for those who’ll say, it’s because I had the food from the Restaurant Week menu and not the regular menu, that wasn’t the case. David, of course, stubborn as he is, refused to order off the Restaurant menu and ordered from the regular menu. In fact, had he not done so, I would have thought Megu wasn’t all that bad. Surprisingly, the non-Restaurant Week dishes were actually worse than the Restaurant Week dishes. It was quite bizarre.
In addition, interpret it as you will, but when we were given menus, the Restaurant Week menu was not given to us. It was after the waiter came to take our order that I had to ask if there was a Restaurant Week menu. When I did, he stuttered a bit, and then returned with two heavily creased menus. No apologies. Was it an honest mistake? I doubt it. MORE »
When I was little, I used to love McDonald’s McChicken. Fried and slathered in mayonnaise, the McChicken seemed perfect, especially stuffed with a few french fries dipped in ketchup. Now that I’m older, the McChicken doesn’t hold the same wonderment it previously did. The white meat is pulverized beyond recognition and the chicken exterior is no longer crispy. Even still, once in a while, I crave something fried and unhealthy. This is how I found myself at Cafe Zaiya last week. Normally when I’m within the vicinity of the “Japanese Trinity” (Chiyoda Sushi, Yagura, and Cafe Zaiya), I’ll go to Chiyoda Sushi for some rolls and to Cafe Zaiya for a Mentaiko Onigiri (pollack roe onigiri). The Mentaiko Onigiri is better than the ones at Chiyoda Sushi since the seaweed, nori in Japanese and gim (김) in Korean, is not wrapped directly onto the rice. I don’t like soggy nori. However, that day, I had fried chicken on the brain, and when I saw them bring out a tray of freshly made Spicy Chicken Sandwiches I grabbed one immediately. MORE »