Confessions of a Wino

Needing more of a brunch than a breakfast, we pulled in for a typical NY Italian, and I was pleased to see Eggs Benedict on the menu.  But it’s not exactly what you get in The Wolseley.  Firstly, New Yorkers need three poached eggs. Then replace the bacon with prosciutto and add fried potatoes and chillies, and enough pepper to bring dusk forwards by an hour and ten minutes.  Not going to win me the Fat Fighters Slimmer of the Year prize, but should keep me filled up until dinner time.

Right.  Where are those 1860 steps up the Empire State?  I need exercise.

Grotta Azzurra, 177 Mulberry Street aka 387 Broome Street, Little Italy, New York 10013.
T: +1 212 925 8775
W: www.bluegrotta.com

Browsing through the comprehensive wine list, I was delighted, and more than a little relieved, to find a section marked Under $75, full of interesting wines.  What is this New York obsession with pricing wine like its skyscraper condos – way out of the reach of the average man?

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Borgata is the newest and smartest casino in AC and way out of the reach of my meagre finances, so, naturally, I dashed there to see if I could find some decent tiffin. No such thing as cheap. Even the taxi from Caesar’s (tacky) Palace was $15 for a mere 3 minute dash across town.

Tucked away in a wee cranny of this Cathedral to St Cajetan is a restaurant that sounds like an ice hockey match being played to Eine Kleine Nachtmusik.  It is one of about a dozen eating places in the casino, ranging in quality from Jack High to Four of a Kind.  We chose this one hoping for something better than soggy chips but cheaper than a Royal Flush. 

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An authentic NYC deli with authentic (abrupt) NY service, well worth 20% just for the Fawltyness.  Carnegie plays a bit too much on its considerable reputation, the walls being plastered in rarely recognised Very Important Patrons.  It is also expensive.

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“This is a traditional New York Italian family restaurant” said our Pacific Island looking waiter pointing at a huge canoe full of pasta being delivered to the next table.  A random walk around the pleasant residential areas of the upper west side had allowed us to use the antiquated predecessor to www.stumbleupon.com to find an eaterie.

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My favourite gastro-pub in the whole wide world is situated in the Yorkshire Dales near Skipdale (for Emmerdale fans that is just a few miles from Hotton).  Back in the real world, Hetton village is a mere cockstride from Rylstone, famous for bra-less jam-makers.

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Some stories go on and on.  I suppose you cannot blame people for desperately trying to wring every last sou from their fifteen minutes of fame but I had to smile when I read that Peter André has signed up for a cook book.  I try very hard not to overuse exclamation marks, the vulgar back street Pot Noodle of punctuation.  But WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Perhaps we can look forward to digesting “101 recipes for over-ripe melons”?

Langan’s Brasserie has been around as long as I can remember.  Certainly it has endured more than its fair share of Andy Warhol’s allocation and draws good and bad reviews.  But generally I find it very well patronised for a place that by many estimations is several eons out of fashion.

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I was going to review this place next year when I could have titled the post, 4030 2010.  But on the 40th floor bar of 30 St Mary’s Axe the view could not wait and, verily, it must be one of the most stunning in the whole of London.

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I have a theory that the more a place is off the beaten track the harder it has to work to get custom, the more it relies on regulars and, therefore, the better the food and wine.

32, Great Queen Street is on, well, you’ve guessed it.  Just off the main streets of Covent Garden and close to the Freemason’s Grand Lodge, I suppose I could have negotiated a discount had I rolled one trouser leg up and hopped inside holding a kipper to my ear.

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I’ve heard many reports of London Chinatown’s demise.  Shame when Manchester’s equivalent is thriving so well.  I found myself in The Big Smoke on business with nothing better to do than check out the rumours, so I selected a random place on Lisle Street just behind Leicester Square.

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