A meal at Neerob is an eye-opening, palate-thrilling crash course in gingery chana dal, fragrant goat biryani, and vegetables like cabbage and spinach cooked into soft, intricately spiced succulence.
Dinner is Fri-Sat, when the kitchen is open until 7:30 and 9:30, make a reservation; only 18. homespun, absurdly affordable Italian salads, sandwiches, and pasta; bakes her own focaccia and pastries.
Alex Raij and Eder Montero, came up with the “uni panini,” easily one of the greatest sandwiches of the past decade.
There’s the pickle-palooza Scuttlebutt, the Clean Slate, an open-faced Middle Eastern kitchen sink, all housebaked focaccia and chewy naan; bright, piquant dressings; and flurries of fresh herbs.
And the bagels are hot and fresh throughout the day: Smallish in size with a largish hole that affords a superior crust-to-crumb ratio, they’re perfectly dense and chewy, with a hint of crispness
If you want a sure thing, go for crowd-pleasers like cumin lamb, spicy cold noodles, braised fish, and the ever-popular “crust of cooked rice with pork,” a Little Pepper signature.
Multiple Locations. Every lamb-centric, cumin-charged dish is as good as it’s always been, including all the various hand-ripped noodles, and our personal favorite, the lamb pao-mo soup.
Ramen and then deep-fried chicken livers and hearts, a Caesar riff with tofu dressing and anchovy-Parmesan fricos, fried tofu with a veggie-chili-dog topping, and the Lancaster okonomiyaki.
The numbing, tingly assault of the Sichuan peppercorn, also chile peppers, dried, pickled, or preserved; pork, duck, bamboo, beef, which becomes something akin to jerky.
It’s not too much to say that Saeed Pourkay’s is the best Persian food you’ll ever eat at a Flatiron pizzeria.
Night-market street food: mussel-and-egg crêpe called hoi thawt, a rotisserie chicken stuffed with lemongrass and herbs, a soothing khao soi, a mild curry that’s warmed by its intricate mix of spices.
House-pulled “mozz,” in balls or sticks; the vinegary iceberg “Sunday” salad, which becomes a “Holiday” salad with some salami and cheese; and the eponymous sandwiches—eggplant, chicken, and meatball
Oatmeal and grapefruit is your idea of a healthy breakfast, ichiju sansai. 10-4 on weekends, is the set-price, seafood-centered Japanese breakfast most often encountered in posh hotels.
A combination of the Lanzhou-style la mian Song traveled to the region to study; Shanghai-style soup buns, or xiaolongbao; scallion pancakes stuffed with beef.
Vegetarian. Known for its double-decker Mumbai grilled cheese, crunchy with raw onion and peppers and dressed with cilantro chutney.
The roast-pork hero with tuna sauce, raisins, and fennel or lamb sausage on a hot-dog bun with pickled tomato, fried eggplant, fresh mint, onion, tzatziki or a gyro.
Funky, fiery food of Thailand’s northeast Isan region. Somtum Der takes the trend a step further by focusing on the invigorating green-papaya salads known as som tum.
The thing to order is still the Shiromaru Hakata Classic (the house pork-bone broth style) or the Akamaru Modern (essentially a high-octane Shiromaru).
The thing to order is still the Shiromaru Hakata Classic (the house pork-bone broth style) or the Akamaru Modern (essentially a high-octane Shiromaru).
A nice hot bowl of Puglian-inspired orecchiette or a take on Rome’s amatriciana, swapping house-cured lamb bellies for the guanciale. Or with a crunchy antipasti salad or Fontina-stuffed meatballs
Ask for the off-the-menu Gorgon - a supersize fresh-masa tortilla deep-fried to a delicate crisp, then stuffed with guacamole, carne asada, serrano-chile crema, onion, and cilantro
Mimi Kitani is known for her hummus, which she blends with lemon and garlic, enriches with olive oil, and tops with everything from fava beans to cinnamon-tinged ground beef.
Whatever doubts we had about a Philly chainlet invading the East Village evaporated within minutes of sampling the dan dan noodles, correctly ranked eight on the restaurant’s precise heat scale.
Get raw-shrimp salad, redolent of lime, garlic; panang duck curry, with its pinpoint calibration of sweet, sour, and spicy; crisp, lacy catfish salad; mango sticky rice, a dissertation in ripeness.
New Brooklyn pizzeria. Rooftop farmer. Erstwhile beekeeper. Bread bakery. Internet radio station. The place is a hillbilly-hipster juggernaut.
Ceci, a falafel stuffed with chickpea fritters, beets, kimchee, and pickled onions. They’re served on his elegant pizza bianca, a soft and chewy dough slicked with oil and dusted with salt
Why you go: the da pan ji, or “spicy big tray chicken,” a manhole-size skillet loaded with chunks of bone-on bird in a sea of oily red sauce spiked with chiles, star anise, and Sichuan peppercorns.
The noodles are firm and springy, the flavorful broths enhanced by the fresh cilantro and chile oil set on the table. Even better might be the brothless knife-peeled noodles, stir-fried with cabbage.
Sao Mai debunks the old wives’ tale that you can’t find a good bowl of Vietnamese beef-bone-broth noodle soup outside our city’s Chinatowns, let alone in Manhattan. Also good for takeout/delivery.
Chicken or fish good, but you can still get what is the most baffling beefsteak bargain in town, the estimable butcher’s steak, for a paltry $16.
Nicely charred, tender-crusted Neapolitan-esque pizza with a micro-layer of crispness and keep the price point to under $15 per pie on average - electric oven. Great cocktails.
The proof is in the meze - the wood-smoked baba ghannouj, the deft grape leaves, the silky, nutty hummus. And the chicken shawarma’s inclduing beet-pickled turnips and homemade garlic and hot sauces.
Khao mun kai, which means “oiled-rice chicken” (eim means “full”), is the popular Thai adaptation of a common Hainanese street food and the specialty of this Elmhurst storefront shop.
Saiguette’s might be the biggest bánh mì you’ve ever seen. It takes two wooden skewers to hold one together. Unlike most supersize sandwiches, these are well balanced and carefully constructed.
Small space, small plates: The only truly outsize thing about Matt Hamilton’s cozy canteen is the flavors. DIY bone-marrow tacos are a signature dish.
The food at Bunna Cafe, a pop-up Ethiopian supper club turned brick-and-mortar restaurant, is only incidentally vegan.
A hearty bowl of the noodle soup called lagman, ground-beef lula kebabs, and plov, the oil-varnished rice pilaf and Uzbekistan’s national dish.
Inspired and transformed New York’s booming Mexican-food scene with its traditionally made, nixtamalized-corn tortillas.
Scandinavian rye loaves, airy cheese straws, tender poppyseed hamantaschen, city’s best chocolate babka. Sandwich: the harissa-fueled potato-and-tomato-studded Tunisian tuna on house-baked ciabatta.
You probably shouldn’t leave without a taste of the West African–ish beef-and-peanut stew called kare-kare or crispy pata and chicken adobo.
Fu Run specializes in the cooking of China’s Northeast, the region formerly known as Manchuria. Consider ordering the massive rack of fatty ribs known as “Muslim lamb chop,” braised, battered, fried.
Iranian Traditional dishes like ash-e reshteh, the verdant potage of greens, beans, and noodles. Thursday night lamb-kebab special.
Three-thigh fried-chicken plate, with biscuits and hot sauce; the hot breast sandwich; the equally incendiary hot fish. There’s also a classic burger, an irresistible pimento-poblano grilled cheese.
The bodega has evolved into an adjacent restaurant. Chief among them are Chavez’s carnitas, or manteca, in which they baste, along with oranges, limes, Fanta, and Coke.
Dimes is an actual restaurant in juice-bar guise with fresh, vibrant, not entirely vegetarian food, from a summer salad with blackberries, cantaloupe, and feta. Packed at brunch. Mellow at dinner.
Born as a fancy sandwich shop, Glady’s has recently morphed a jerk joint with a crackerjack kitchen, led by a veteran of Momofuku Noodle Bar and Kajitsu. Jerk chicken, juicy jerk pork, or curry goat.
A nice Welsh rarebit, a bowl of kedgeree, or a smoked-chicken-and-pickled-mushroom smørrebrød.
Chef-owner Yoshihito Kida amplifies flavor with toppings like pork kimchee, chicken meatballs, and Japanese curry.
Chef-owner Yoshihito Kida amplifies flavor with toppings like pork kimchee, chicken meatballs, and Japanese curry.
Just four types of pies, plus a meatball hero with a cult following, his menu is tightly focused.
Gourmet grocery more than sit down shop. Yegen’s cases are full of oil-slicked vegetable mezze, tangy hot yogurt soup, baked lamb over mashed-eggplant purée, and butternut-squash non-dessert dessert.
Boubouki specializes in spanakopita, the Greek spinach pie, which is baked and served by erstwhile lawyer Rona Economou in her Essex Street Market stall.
Try the plov (lamb-mingled rice pilaf) and the flaky-crusted samsa filled with minced lamb and onion or the chilled Korean beef-noodle soup, kuksu, with cucumber, cabbage, shredded omelette, and dill.
From French’s Fried Onions to Mama Lil’s Pickled Peppers. For breakfast, get egg on a roll with Cabot Cheddar and Burger’s Smokehouse bacon, or American cheese and the Taylor Pork Roll.
Straddling that fine line between tradition and innovation in a stylishly stripped-down space. Specialty: a miso-kelp veggie broth that holds its own in body and savor with its porkier rivals.
Extremely loud but still the best bar burger in town. Take it the way it comes: two square patties, American cheese, lettuce, tomato, pickles, onion, mustard, mayo, and no ketchup.
Lumpia in both heritage-pork and triple-mushroom form, and the Chipotle-style, customizable rice bowls are such a great introduction to an often inaccessible cuisine.
Among the nine curry options, we like the one with a crisp-fried Berkshire-pork cutlet best; the hamburger curry is also terrific, if not as easy on the eyes.
Griddled-to-order nizami rolls, the rolled parathas stuffed with fillings like egg, minced lamb, chicken, and lime-flavored paneer, they make a perfect midnight snack. Also good: chaat.
Two-year-old Chinatown restaurant that calls itself a diner and espresso bar: Half the menu is Hong Kong–style Western food; the other half is straight-up Cantonese.
One of the most satisfying slices you’ve had in a while—remarkably flavorful and surprisingly crisp-crusted despite its supercolossal size and droopy posture.
Sweet-tea-brined and pressure-fried, the moist, craggy-crusted chicken is the main event at this modest redoubt, and it comes with a tasty buttermilk biscuit and some well-intentioned mixed greens.
For Delaney, and us, brisket’s the thing, preferably fatty (although, as with Katz’s pastrami, lean is an option), sauceless, and sided with no more than pickles and white bread.
The Calabro mozzarella with miso mayo and potato chips; the Cheddar with pork belly, kimchee, and a fried egg; and especially the pork-shoulder scallion-pancake “taco.”
Try Ivan Ramen Slurp Shop, which gave New York its first taste of the Syosset native’s distinctive dashi-and-chicken broth and rye noodles, not to mention the donburi rice bowls you’ll only find here.
Why do locals flock to this Mexican restaurant in the back of a big, bright grocery store? Could be the condiment bar, or maybe specials like chicken enchiladas in a sweet-and-spicy mole sauce.
You’ll want the version called adjaruli, stuffed with cheese, and with an egg cracked into the hollowed-out center like a toad in the hole. Or the soup dumplings called khinkali.
Crafted by an Austrian sausage maven upstate and garnished with housemade relishes. The bacon’s from Nueske’s, the heirloom Jacob’s Cattle beans from Vermont, and the veggie burger is worth it.
The ordeal is part of the commitment. And all is right with the world when they fork over your pulled-pork sandwich, a stack of sliced brisket, and especially the titanic, much-talked-about beef rib.
Broccoli Classic has become a classic, so has cauliflower cheesesteak. A compelling case for the profligate use of Fritos and Zapp’s BBQ potato chips in the sandwich-making arena.
There’s more technique than you’d expect from a kitchen whose main attraction is gourmet grilled cheese. And the craft-beer and cider lists run long and deep.
Butter-soaked Connecticut-style option served with a flourish of paprika and chopped scallion
Larb—the ground-meat salad of northeast Thailand that’s mingled with herbs, chiles, lime juice, fish sauce, and toasted rice powder—must be the most powerfully addictive substance known to man.
Of note are the fried-fish sandwich, tender fillets of Narragansett-beer-battered pollock gobbed with homemade tartar sauce on Pain D’Avignon brioche, and the falafel-coated Israeli Scotch egg.
Unlike a standard wine bar, Terroir features sherry, Madeira, vermouth. Pair with Canora’s duck-ham panino, lamb-sausage-stuffed sage leaves, or the lightest, fluffiest veal-ricotta meatballs.
Abundantly juicy, beautifully crusted, and super-meaty. The recent limited-edition run of the José Andrés pork burger with ham, Manchego, and piquillo-pepper confit pretty much knocked our socks off.
This off-the-radar fried-chicken specialist dispenses its goods from a Park Slope takeout window flanked by a few outdoor benches and a narrow standing ledge. Straight or banh-mi style
Main draw at this sunny counter-service cantina is the breakfast taco. It’s a hot, steamy flour tortilla cradling scrambled eggs and your choice of fixings, served weekends only, until 4 p.m.
There is the famous turkey sandwich: milk-braised leg meat luxuriating in its peppery pan juices, topped with crispy fried onions, then piled high between two slices of sauce-sopping Pullman toast.
Low-key but well-stocked craft-brew bar adds a small menu of meatless sandwiches, salads, and snacks, as culinarily inventive as a smoked-tofu bánh mì adorned with house-fermented kimchee and avocado.
It’s the unassuming—and delicious—gringo taquería that spawned a foodie community, an evolved boardwalk concession, and, just this year, an urban farm.
Still, here is a Hong Kong–style sai chaan, or Western comfort-food restaurant, with a focus on Italian cuisine. In other words, it’s Chinese dudes cooking spaghetti.
Braised short rib with horseradish on toasted challah. Fried chicken on a buttermilk biscuit with coleslaw and gravy. A veggie muffuletta. This is not your average Boar’s Head–on–rye deli counter.
But the main attraction is the patacon, a sandwich constructed with disks of twice-fried green plantains rather than bread. Overstuffed, dense, chewy, unwieldy and tasty.
No matter how fancy or far-flung the food world gets, there will always be room for cheese grits, cake doughnuts, and the full roster of sides.
Get the meatballs and the arancini, and the paccheri all’amatriciana. If you’re in the mood for a sandwich, get the Arthur Avenue (ham, salami, mortadella, provolone) and save a trip to the Bronx.
There are “urban fries” (Parmesan, herbs, garlic aïoli), plus six different toppings for regular fries. Most surprising of all, you can ask for your spuds cooked “well done” or even limp.
Among the eight sandwich options, go for the Bamberg—crunchy breaded chicken with pickled cukes, daikon radish, ginger, and a swipe of onion mustard on a Tom Cat pretzel roll.
The soft-serve is made from goat’s milk. But it’s also a full-fledged, health-minded kitchen.
Taquitoria’s taquitos are the fine corn tortillas, rolled like cigars around shredded meat, then deep-fried to a salty, fatty crunch. Get the Berkshire-pork taquito topped “cheesy” style.
But by wisely not stinting on fat, protein, or dressing, signature combos like the Kale Caesar and the Earth Bowl do solve the eternal nutritional dilemma: how to make salad satisfying.
Gourmet chicken-finger specialist -- “crunchy” (fried) fingers dipped in “sticky” (white barbecue) sauce.
Slider for $2.75 ($4.95 a double), a house-ground blend, cooked on a cast-iron griddle, and topped, with grilled onions and American cheese. Spring for a side of fries and the Guinness shake.
It’s overcheesed, oversauced, often burnt beyond recognition, but the Sicilian slice remains an object of late-night, semi-inebriated desire.
You go to Emmett’s for a dense, pastry-crusted beast of a thing, with a blanket of stretchy cheese and a reservoir of zesty sauce. It requires 25 minutes to make from start to finish.
$2 buys you a wang mandoo (king dumpling), a round of dough the size of a bocce ball. The super-spongy things are filled with ground pork or pork and kimchee. One is more than a snack. Two are a meal.
Wang mandoo (king dumpling): a round of dough the size of a bocce ball. The super-spongy things are filled with ground pork or pork and kimchee. One is more than a snack. Two are a meal
