2
d.b.a
41
NEAR 2nd STREET
Don't expect prompt service when you wander into this East Village watering hole: The languid barkeeps respond with all the urgency of a Guinness tap, regardless of how busy things get. Thankfully, some things are worth waiting for. d.b.a. might have the best beer selection in Manhattan, boasting bottles from around the world, a rotating crop of more than a dozen local and hard-to-find draughts, and – the real attraction – two hand-drawn, cask-conditioned offerings that change regularly. There's an equally impressive menu for scotch and tequila aficionados. In winter, the dim environs offer a cozy refuge against the cold; in summer, the sprawling back patio offers a chance to grab some sun (or a cigarette). Be forewarned, though: The patio closes at the godly hour of 10 p.m., out of deference to the neighbours.
MOMOFUKO NOODLE BAR
171
NEAR 10TH STREET
The sign doesn't say Vegetarian's Nightmare, but it might as well. Nonetheless, the Noodle Bar – not to be confused with its younger sibling on Second Ave., Momofuku Ssam – recently moved to more spacious digs a few buildings north to accommodate its legion of devotees. And on a recent night, the lineup still snaked out the door, and a group of 20 people crammed into the minimalist vestibule, swilling drinks, listening to Led Zeppelin, and covetously eyeing the plates of those lucky enough to have nabbed a seat. The steaming noodle bowls are a signature item here (try the pork neck ramen). So are the steamed buns – doughy little packages of berkshire pork belly, hoisin, and cucumber. But offal is where chef David Chang really shines. The beef tongue and tripe are musts, as are crunchy-creamy veal sweetbreads, deep-fried with a side of sweet chili sauce. Servers are unfailingly hip, but also knowledgeable: One confides that the sweetbreads are “like the best popcorn chicken you've ever tasted.” We don't disagree.
SIGIRI
91
NEAR SIXTH STREET
Ignore the street-level touts on this block of sub-continent eateries and head up the stairs to Sigiri – one of the few Sri Lankan restaurants in the city. The affordable menu abounds with fish, rice dishes, and spiced-to-order curries: Think Indian food, tinged with various colonial influences. If you like fried food, try the appetizer sampler, a plate of tasty, if largely undistinguishable, morsels of fish and spring rolls. Chicken Lamprais, which owes a debt to the Dutch, is an intriguing main, gathering chicken, rice, fish and egg into the folds of a banana leaf. But if you're here for the first time, ask for the Khottu Roti. It's cheap and hearty Sri Lankan street fare – a kind of stir fry studded with shreds of soft pancake dough and finished with beef or chicken. Sigiri doesn't sell alcohol, but you're free to bring your own bottle of Gewurztraminer (sans corkage fees). Or the grocer below has a good selection of beer.
Xunta Tapas Bar
174
NEAR 11TH STREET
Sure, there are more inventive takes on tapas in New York, but for low-key traditionalists, Xunta remains a favourite. Fish nets and blue lights dangle from the ceiling of this subterranean Spanish tavern, but somehow the effect manages to be more inviting than tacky. A boisterous crowd noshes off of barrels-cum-tables (tip: sit at the bar if there's space – it's more comfortable), while desultory staff ferry an impossible assortment of small plates from the kitchen. Xunta boats almost 60 varieties of tapas, and most hit the mark, but if you're struggling to winnow your choices, ask for the chorizo sausage in red wine, the salt cod empanadas and the grilled skirt steak. If you're still hungry, the manchego cheese with quince paste makes for a savory-sweet dessert. One word of caution: This is not the place to go for a quiet meal, particularly on Thursday and Saturday, when there's live Flamenco dancing.
Ess-a-Bagel
359
NEAR 21ST STREET
Forget about this city's culinary whiz kids, its ephemeral trends and Michelin-starred restaurants: None can inspire the slavish devotion, much less the bitter divisiveness, of the common bagel. Ess-a-Bagel has been churning out doughy rings since 1976, and has since expanded to the Upper East Side. The offerings here manage to bridge the divide between the denser, chewy-sweet Montreal variety and the more pillowy, leavened-bread indigenous to Toronto. These are formidable bagels, which, tarted up with a schmear, will either keep you sated until dinner, or knock you into a starch coma. There are other options, of course – rugelach, knishes and even a “health salad” – but follow the lead of New York's finest, who regularly wander over from the 13th precinct, and order a bagel. Just don't ask for it toasted. (“We don't toast,” a grave-looking server chided a Sunday patron. “Next!”)
Lil' Frankie's Pizza
19
NEAR 2ND STREET
For a city that claims to have invented its own style of pizza, New York is awash with mediocre pies. Thankfully, Lil' Frankie's isn't one of them. The diminutive offshoot of Frank's Restaurant, located a block west, only opened for business six years ago, but already it feels like part of the East Village old guard. Owner Frank Prisinzano recently expanded into the adjacent building and opened Big Cheech¸ which has increased the odds of getting a table (the vibe is more bar than restaurant here – with a jangling mixture of glass chandelier, old family photos and religious curios – but you can still order from Lil' Frankie's menu). If you can, try to nab a spot in the back room, especially during winter. Passersby have an annoying habit of yanking open a streetfront door (which for some reason isn't locked) and momentarily chilling anyone within 10 feet. But this is merely a quibble. The pastas are simply dressed but toothsome – some of the most comforting food in the 'hood – and the thin-crust pies, though not the best in New York, are nevertheless very good. The wine list is also impressive, with a range of bargains under $40 a bottle.
Birdbath
223
NEAR 14TH STREET
There are guilt-free cookies, and then there are the ones from Birdbath, an eco-pastry shop designed by the folks at City Bakery. Everything – and we mean everything – here is designed to appeal to the green brigade. The walls of this tiny room are made from wheat and sunflower seed husks; the floor is made from cork; the counter is a composite of recycled blue jeans; the coffee cups are made of corn. As for the food: This is organic, extreme style. Milk comes from a local farm, as does the honey. Flour is sourced from east of the Mississippi. And deliveries are made on rickshaws (in fact, if you arrive by bicycle, you can get a discount). And how are the offerings? Not bad. Of the handful of alarmingly large cookies, the chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin are the clear favourites, and those with a sweeter tooth can wrangle a crispy bear claw.
