Roxie "don't touch my life" H.'s Profile

don't rush me

don't throw orange

juice at me.

don't forget to bring

my water and never

come back.

I was so

thirsty.

pretend like you're

excited that

I'm eating in your

restaurant

remember that people like

me are the reason you

are still in

business

I am your

customer

and I'm always right

so when I say

that you

make a kick-ass eggs

benedict then I mean

it and damn it

tartine you make one

kick-ass eggs

benedict and it's a good

thing because if

you didn't

you might be in some

serious trouble from

me on yelp

you know,

that review site?

I'm not

sure if your

seating arrangement complies

with health codes

but I'm sure there's

some kind of

violation because I couldn't

move to my

left

right

anywhere at all.

I consider this to

be a bit

dangerous but I

understand it was

Sunday morning

and you had a lot of

hungry customers waiting

on line

outside but I

just think that maybe

removing one

or two tables would

benefit you

and the dining experience of

your patrons

because believe me when

it's sunday morning and all

you want to

do is eat a

peaceful brunch

and you have

a table of french

speaking douchebags

lodged up your

ass, you

might leave the

restaurant with some

negative feelings.

My boyfriend loves cheeseburgers. Every week he'll ask: "Can we go to Five Guys?", like I'd ever say no... or like he ever needs permission. But I think it's cute that he asks. So, in an attempt to show my love to him through beef and cheese, I tried to locate the best burger on the East Coast for his consumption pleasure. It seemed that Shake Shack fit the bill.

Last weekend, during our 2 day stay in New York City, I told him I'd bring him to get the best burger in the city. He was super excited, so I hoped that Shake Shack would like up to all the hype. It certainly delivered.

I ordered a single cheeseburger, a chocolate malted milkshake, and bf ordered a Shack Burger and a black and white milkshake. We split an order of cheese fries. I wasn't too thrilled with my burger, to be honest. It had a few hard gristly balls in it, which kind've made me unhappy. I didn't want to swallow them so I had to spit them out. not. attractive. BF, however, absolutely loved his Shack Burger and talked about it all day.

As for the chocolate malted and the cheese fries, I fell completely head over heels for them. The cheese sauce was AMAZING. When BF dipped the fries in ketchup, my food-lover's instinct took over, causing me to scream "NO! Don't dip them in ketchup!" which kind of made him mad, responding with "I want to.". What a waste of majestically delicious cheese. ::sigh::

Next time I go, I would probably try the mushroom burger or one of the other menu items instead of a cheeseburger and probably double up on my order of cheese fries! I dream about them. As for bf, I think he'd keep the same order, providing that he's still talking about it!

It is beautiful in here. It's big, rich looking, and they have a giant bar. But no liquor license. Weird.

I think the kitchen manager beats the waitstaff because they're all really awkward and serious, but our host had quite a personality, pretty much claiming that every special was the "best thing on the menu". They can't all be the best!

We ordered the homemade ravioli special as an appetizer; delicate, fresh raviolis served in a light cream sauce with pancetta and peas---one of my favorite combinations. Absolutely delightful. I wish I had ordered this as my main dish, as the one I chose disappointed me. For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to order a steak. It was tough and chewy, and the flavor wasn't impressive in the least. Boyfriend ordered the bolognese and said "This tastes... dusty." I had no idea what he was talking about so I tried some and kind of... agree? I guess it just didn't taste fresh, like no fresh tomatoes were used to make the sauce. Not good at all.

If it weren't for the delicious appetizer, which left a lasting impression, I would only give Nicchio two stars for sub par entrees and a strange staff. Maybe they still have some kinks to work out... and an alcohol license to work on! (Really, you have to see this bar. It's GIANT--- even for a place WITH a liquor license!)

I loves me some classic Shakespeare so boyfriend and I decided to go see Hamlet on Broadway last weekend. We missed our 5:30 dinner reservations at BLT (it was just too damn early and we were still full of Shake Shack deliciousness from lunchtime) so by the time our play let out we were ravenously hungry. We didn't know where to go but I knew it wasn't going to be anywhere in Times Square since it makes me feel like I'm on a bad LSD trip and gives me panic attacks. It was cold and I wanted food that would feel like hugs. Big, warm, delicious hugs. With hug sauce. So, like the 21st century gal I am, I utilized my Blackberry and found Blue Ribbon Brasserie. I called them and asked what time their kitchen is open until. 5am? Oh yeah. They totally are open for the late-night meal pleasure of NYC chefs. I'm there.

We hail a cab and make our way to Blue Ribbon Brasserie. Can't find it. DAMN IT. I want FOOD!

There! No big sign, no flashiness, just a warm little restaurant on a quiet street. Nice. What was not-so-nice was the 45 minute wait we encountered. This place is bustling at all hours. At this point in the night, (around 1am) not having eaten since around 1pm, I was really ready to kill and eat the first person I saw, which would most likely be my boyfriend. And I love him, so that would be extremely unfortunate for all parties involved. Ruling out that option, we decided to share some appetizers at the bar.

Great plan. I made friends with the awesome dude operating the raw bar by calling him a bad ass mother shucker. He is actually the #2 shucker in the WORLD. Kinda like the Michael Phelps of oyster shucking. Boyfriend sucked down over a dozen fresh, ice cold oysters with a giant, goofy smile on his face. I don't think I've ever seen him enjoy something so much. We also ordered the pupu platter (ribs, peiroges, chicken wings, some fried thing, shrimp and chicken kebabs) and I ordered the roasted bone marrow with oxtail marmalade. Everyone looked at me like I was crazy. What can I say? I'm a weird broad.

Well, my eyes were bigger than my stomach and I totally misjudged my painful hunger, assuming that I could eat a lot. I wish I could have. Everything on the pupu platter was delicious but the bone marrow had to be one of the best things I have ever eaten in my life. Rich, sweet and savory bone marrow slathered onto hot, crusty bread with the sweet oxtail marmalade and coarse salt... oh, words fail me. With a glass of Sierra Nevada (they have it on tap!), I was as happy as a clam. Or an oyster. This is the food hug I needed.

Sometimes... I just don't understand.

The fact that anyone gave Copper Canyon over three stars is baffling. The food is not good. Edible, yes. Good, no.

Our lamb chop appetizer was *supposed* to come along with a mango chutney. Apparently the kitchen staff thinks their consumer is stupid and put some raw, diced up (unripe) pineapple in the middle of the plate and thought that maybe I wouldn't notice. Well, I did. Don't try to pull any funny shit with me. This dish sucks.

My entree, a strip steak with "canyon" fries was ordered medium rare and came out to me burned on the outside and completely raw on the inside. Blue, raw. Not even red. It was blue.

I had to send it back. It took forever for them to bring it back out to me and my boyfriend was done with his dinner before mine even came out. It's ok, the steak sucked anyway. Obviously trying to cover up the fact that inferior meat was used, they heavily season and marinate the steak. Didn't dig it.

Since we drove all the way out to the Highlands to come here, we decided not to end our night too early and ordered dessert. Another mistake. We were served an extremely overpriced, obviously store-bought ice cream pie. No thank you.

The price you pay to eat at this glorified crap-shoot is almost unbelievable. I wouldn't eat dinner here again if THEY paid ME. It seemed like all the drunk 40somethings were having a great time at the bar so maybe I'd just need to get wasted on tequila like all of the other patrons--- then I might think the food is good. Tequila could make a toilet taste good.

Have you ever driven past a new place multiple times and said to whomever is in the car, "We have to go there one day"? For some reason, I do that a lot--- just as I did with Crust & Crumble for months. I guess I just assume all new places are going to suck.

Crust & Crumble, however, does not suck. It's really cute inside and the guy working was enthusiastic to help us, really pleasant. We visited during breakfast time and sampled a few of their baked goods, and a breakfast pizza.

I ordered a "french toast muffin" which was essentially bread pudding in a paper baking cup. It was cold but I'm sure it would be much tastier when warmed, maybe served with some real maple syrup or maple butter. Some cubes of bread didn't absorb the custard mixture all the way through and were a bit hard and stale tasting inside, but most of them were just fine. Boyfriend had a carrot cake muffin and said it was pretty good.

Our breakfast pizza was good. The crust was the highlight; unlike a normal pizza crust, it was buttery and flaky. I'm not sure if their regular pizzas share the same crust recipe, but if so, it gives a unique "bakery" spin to pizza-- reminds me of the pizza they serve in the French patisseries in St. Martin. It was topped with fluffy scrambled eggs, pancetta, and cheddar cheese. It was really mostly egg; the pancetta was very scarce and I didn't get any nice, gooey, strings of cheese that come along with taking a bite of pizza. I wish the toppings were more plentiful.

I think the place still has to work some kinks out, perfect their recipes, etc. but all in all, it's a fun place to stop and get a unique breakfast.

This is probably the quickest I have ever reviewed a place.

I ate here about a half hour ago; we decided to leave the office for once and grab some lunch. Bad plan. I did not have a say in where we were going, so off we drove, across the bridge to Sunsets.

First of all, the decor is god awful. Imagine a Brooklyn Italian's 1980s home, in all of its glorious gaudiness (Pastels, white, gold, general terribleness), combine it with the inside of a bait and tackle shop, throw in some way-overdue-to-be-replaced carpets and some flourescent bug zapperesque wall fixtures and there you go: you've got yourself the decor at Sunsets. Take a deep breath. You smell that? Overwhelming stench of B.O. That's right, boys and girls. It stinks like body odor. Musty and GROSS.

Hey, what's that? Oh! It's a mouse. Of course it is. Of course there's a mouse running around in the dining room.

j: "Excuse me, waiter... there's a mouse."
w: ::horrified look:: "w-where?"
j: Running around.
w: ::looks around:: ::more horrified looks::

*waiter disappears into the kitchen and emerges with a woman who I believe to be the owner. (Big hair, big personality, North Jersey/SI/BK accent)*

o: "Where is it?!"
j: ::points everywhere::
o: "I'm SO sorry, I'm SO sorry! We keep the doors open and we have a big mouse trap but it only kills ten mice at a time so he must've got in. He shouldn't be in the dining room!"
j: "Oh..."
o: *to the waiter* "Train it. get it into the back."
j: *to the table* "Train it?"
o: "Yeah, we've got a lot of 'em. They get in through the door. We usually catch 'em all but he must be one of the last survivors. We'll catch'im and he'll go to a nice little black house." ::laughs::
j: *Imitates owner to the table* "Train it! Get it to love you then KILL IT."

*Owner disappears back into the kitchen*

Food comes out. I'm not really thrilled to be eating here at this point but the rest of the table doesn't seem to be phased by the mouse infestation. They eat their food, turkey sandwiches; reportedly bland and tasteless. I got a steak salad. Got through about 3 strips of off-tasting, tough steak and can't finish. All of the greens are wilted, brown, and have slimy black spots. No thanks.

This place is restaurant HELL and it somehow managed to offend all of my senses. For the love of God, don't go here for anything that comes out of the kitchen.

Everything.

Everything in here is STICKY.

Oh... my... OH MY GOD. It's insane. I stuck to the table. My napkin stuck to the table. The fork stuck to the napkin. The jelly packet stuck to the butter packets.

I had to wash my hands.

My hands stuck to the bathroom door.

I really hate sticky things. It's one of the few things I am OCD about.

STICKY.

EVERYWHERE.

Anyway, after being traumatized by "stick" I ordered the filet mignon, medium rare, with eggs. Was supposed to come with homefries but we were cutting it close to the lunch hours so I got giant, dry, limp steak fries instead. Gross. My steak was tender and cooked properly, and my eggs were done right. Nothing like some meat dipped in egg yolks. Mmm, tastes like gluttony. Overall, this place was nothing special but it wasn't horrible. That is, if you can get over the stickiness of it.

I am literally OBSESSED with these bagels. OBSESSED. I honestly wake up in the morning and the first thing on my mind is what kind of bagel I'm going to get. Sick, right?! I've come here so much in the past few weeks, that they know me. I'm a regular, now. That kind of shit usually takes years to develop! But not for me. Not when we're dealing with these kind of bagels.

First of all, all the bagels are GIANT and cheap which is nice but what keeps me coming back is the perfect bagel texture, crisp on the outside, light and chewy on the inside. Oh yes. They have a wonderful variety of specialty flavors; blueberry, banana nut, sourdough, super cinnamon... all absolutely scrumptious and addicting. My favorite is their banana nut with peanut butter, the blueberry with butter or peanut butter, and the everything with butter. All toasted, of course.

I have panic attacks imagining my mornings without bagels from Bagel International. They've changed my life. (Well, at least from the hours of 10am-Noon.)

I hung out here for about 4 hours last weekend. The first half, I spent hiding behind my Grey Goose martini and the other half, I spent with my good friend Erin, enjoying the company of our wonderful waiter. We did not order any food since we had just come from dinner at Les Halles, but our drinks were all perfectly prepared. I also enjoyed the complimentary spicy trail mix they provided. I ate an entire bowl of it. I'm a little piggy.

It's definitely not stuffy in here. It's classy, comfortable and cool. My only complaint is that the bathrooms are downstairs... and they clean them during peak bar hours...??!! When I went down to the ladies room, they told me it was CLOSED for cleaning and I had to go in the men's room. I'm SURE that women will be thrilled walking into the men's bathroom, risking seeing their man parts or being sexually harassed---that's no way to treat a lady staying at the Plaza! I responded "Buh, buh, but... what if I see their... ::whispers:: penis... or get raped? Are you really going to make me go in the men's room and risk my life?!" and like that, I was allowed in the women's room to tinkle. Nice.

I really wish the Oak Bar didn't close at 2. I had to end my night early. However, maybe it's for the best since I *was* about 6 martinis deep for the night. (Read review of Plaza Hotel for the outcome.)