Dave H.'s Profile

Brick Lane is best known for their phaal - that's weapons grade Indian curry, for the uninitiated - and their "phaal challenge", where one can gain fame and fortune[1] by downing a whole bowl faster than an episode of "Friends".

Of course I went for it. Wouldn't you?[2]

If you decide to do this, be prepared to enter a WORLD OF EVERLASTING PAIN. Scarily, I found the phaal's taste fairly agreeable, and it grew on me even as it literally burnt my lips and ate away at my stomach. After 45 minutes of trembling hands and hallucinations, I made it through 80% of my bowl before throwing in the towel. Even with my heat tolerance, I had to mix in rice and globs of yogurt, and chug two mango lassis. It was a humbling, hard phaal[3] of an experience, but I'd do it again.

[1] Well, a beer and your name on a wall.
[2] If you're not clinically insane, just get the vindaloo and the biryani. Them's good eating.
[3] Don't you love bad puns? Oh? Phaal whale?

Perfectly-sized venue, and well-coordinated event thanks to Jane, Jando, and Candice. Our bartender was spot-on, getting us where we needed to be, and quick[1]. Every member of the staff I dealt with were super chill - I'll definitely be back for drinks (they had one with jalapeno peppers!) and food (duck and salmon arepas, oh yes).

Good crowd, glad the community managers know how to pack a house[2].

[1] Remind me not to do shots on Mondays. Tuesdays are OK.
[2] Finally met Elsie W. She's muy, muy cuter in person, which shouldn't even be possible.

An evening at Sleep No More is visceral, sexy, and at times as intimate as whispering in a crowded subway car.

For those unfamiliar with Punchdrunk's production, Sleep No More is an experimental theater performance that takes place in the former McKittrick Hotel. The space has been renovated for the show and, as such, bears only a passing resemblance to its previous incarnation. Live your own "Choose Your Own Adventure" book for up to three hours: shadow one or more actors, or wander the McKittrick independently. If you're lucky, you or a fellow patron might be involved in a scene or two. Expect close contact.

Participants must remain silent and masked the entire time, which amps the creepiness factor and makes me consider Sleep No More - while touted as an individual experience - as an experience best shared.

The show's content and format can be overwhelming, so if you find yourself distressed, retreat to the cushioned safety of their jazzy jazz lounge, ask for a gin and tonic - heavenly stuff - and sit a spell.

Once the alcohol starts taking effect, dust yourself off and re-enter the fray.

PDT is the underbelly of the East Village's underbelly[1]. Their decor is the tits: taxidermy specimens, exposed brick, and vintage photos give their bar a character that is both rustic yet refined. When I took two Parisian women[2] there, they were impressed with its mysterious, down-to-earth feel. That's saying something.

To enter, first pass through a hot dog shop, via their not-so-secret entrance; a line usually gives it away. Yes, this speakeasy is wildly popular, but a limit of four per table keeps matters under control, offering a reprieve from the unwashed masses. Inside, share space with a mix of the dressy and casual (this is New York), at the mercy of almost manic bartenders that thankfully love their jobs. It's not the quickest time getting in - the host(ess) takes numbers from those waiting, and follows up with them - so be prepared to kill time elsewhere.

Their concoctions are a bit rough around the edges, but if you like hot dogs, you're in luck: the dining menu is one page of them[3]. Go for the Chang Dog ($6; credit accepted), a bacon-wrapped deep-fried masterpiece topped with Momofuku kimchi. It's the ideal accompaniment to their potent gin-lemon drink (if they're still serve it), drunk food perfect while getting drunk.

[1] I mean that in the best way possible.
[2] My cousins. Don't get any ideas.
[3] There might've been a vegetarian option there, but don't quote me on that.

$18 for a Long Island iced tea? That's atrocious, even for NYC.[1]

Simyone itself is tiny. If you're rolling in it, you may want to get bottle service in their DJ room, one of the two midget rooms here. Due to the lack of space, seating's at a premium; it can get stuffy inside.

Don't get me started on their seizure-inducing wall lighting.[2]

[1] To add insult to injury, it was made with mostly ice.
[2] There were other things I didn't enjoy about the evening, but I think that's enough.

Angel's Share is where you sip drinks with paramours.

That this speakeasy is an easy jaunt through Village Yokocho doesn't detract from its allure. Smartly-dressed staff and an elegant decor provide an unexpected contrast with the yakitori. Guests are served on a first-come, first-served basis, so impatient types may want to arrive early. For a more intimate experience, wait for window-side or back room seating.

The concoctions I've experienced here are deceptively light; you may start feeling the effects into your second glass. My personal choice is the Evidence ($14; credit cards accepted), Earl Grey-infused gin with lemon juice and ginger ale along for the ride - think iced tea with armor-plating. Feeling whimsical-yet-manly? The Del Sasser (14) ought to do the trick: bacon-infused bourbon, plum liquor, pomegranate and lime juice, plus bitters. Yes, bacon-infused, but it's a smoky delight you won't soon regret.

Prices here are higher than your typical Thai spot, but this isn't your typical Thai spot. It's honestly good Asian fusion, Thai with a Kin Shop twist, with flavors you won't expect, reimagined dishes that remain fairly true to Thai. Diners will have their taste buds tickled, not obliterated[1]. For a fresh and appealing start, order the fried pork and crispy oyster salad, offset by mint leaves. As a main dish, consider the roasted duck breast: it's cooked until tender, and prepared with a fabulously savory red curry.

This West Village spot has room for a four-some, but remember to make reservations so you're not crowded out.

[1] If you want Thai spicy, take your pick from the table-side sauces.

Picked up two entrees (~$6; credit cards accepted) to serve as a poor man's brunch. Can't beat this location's convenience, and service was good. If only they were open 24 hours...

Before you judge me, Panda Express is my guilty pleasure, and like all guilty pleasures, you're not too choosy after an all-nighter. I know Panda isn't real Chinese food, but nor is it Americanized Chinese; it's Panda. And since they're inexplicably hard to find on the East Coast, I lust after their chow mein once in a blue moon[1].

[1] Yes, it's sad, I know.

Chef Pam Panyasiri easily differentiates herself from the swell of Thai restaurants in Hell's Kitchen. Her menu features an accoutrement of dishes (plus pictures for the unfamiliar!) as diverse as the flavors she creates.

The larb salad features tender, chopped meat. Coupled with mint leaves, lime dressing, and chili powder, their pork larb (can get chicken or beef) makes for the appetizing appetizer ($5.95; Y5 on the menu) . By default it's not spicy, so those seeking extra heat should request a hot sauce caddy.

If larb isn't for you, the stir-fried crab meat fried rice definitely makes for good eating, with jasmine rice, eggs, onions, tomatoes, and scallions. While the ingredient list may sound boring, the execution is anything but (12.95; #1 special).

Pam's famous hearty oxtail soup is famous for a reason: it's decidedly uncommon in the city's Thai vocabulary, and makes you take a step back. The soup comes with huge chunks of oxtail with tomato, chili, cumin, cilantro, and fried shallots. The meat peels right off the bone, and the slightly sour broth satisfies even more the next day if you're lucky to have leftovers (12.95; P4 on the menu).

Bar Reis is relaxed - almost suspiciously so. The bar is comfortable in its own skin, exuding an urban rusticness, with seating you can sink into and a patio perfect for smoking up[1]. Hell, even their ceiling has character.

There's a table to shoot pool, and trivia buffs can hit up Reis Wednesdays for trivia night - the patrons don't bite. Though if you're seeking privacy, there's a loft overlooking the bar that looks like it was made for snogging sessions [2].

Reis is yet another reason to visit Park Slope.

[1] Not like that. Well... maybe.
[2] And unisex bathrooms too, if you're into that. But seriously, get a room.