Alex "The Fever" H.'s Profile

This place serves the kind of falafel I can really get behind, you know?

One of the major pitfalls of vegetarian dining is the preponderance of bland menu items one has to choose from.  It's almost like there's some sanctified credo somewhere that mandates a total lack of delectability in the absence of flesh products.

However, if there is such a tract somewhere, consider Rainbow Falafel utterly remiss in its adherence to that tasteless regime!

Because these people serve up some of the most delicious falafel I've ever had.  It's got a bevy of interesting flavor, and sundry ordering options to keeps things new, keeps things fresh.  Variety being the spice of food, after all.

I'm currently involved with their "2 Item Vegetarian" (not the cleverest of naming schemas), in which I get falafel and tabouli salad, with hot sauce, minus onions.  And when I say "involved", I mean romantically, in that new-relationship kind of way, where I spend my time away from the 2 Item Vegetarian thinking about the 2 Item Vegetarian, and my time with the 2 Item Vegetarian putting my mouth all over the 2 Item Vegetarian.

Being still new to the city, I haven't really scouted around for other falafel joints.  But if my trips to Rainbow keep satisfying me so comprehensively, I'm going to be hard-pressed to find a reason to go anywhere else.

Addendum: you can also by cigarettes here, which I find very strange.

I'd heard really good things about this place, things like it's being "THE" place to go for Mexican food in the Slope.  So we went, my wife, some friends and I, and I'm here to register my grunt.

I hate to bitch too much about a place's service, but I'm going to at least note that it took a long time to get our victuals, and the place wasn't exactly crowded.  That's all I'll say on that front.

When I go to a new Mexican joint, I usually get the enchiladas - they're sort of like my barometer for general culinary worthiness, I guess.  Perhaps this is a limitation to my method, but I am a believer in the scientific process, and it seems like a good way to isolate the variables I'm working with.

In any case.  The enchiladas were decidedly decent.  Not great.  Not bad at all.  I'm having a difficult time summoning any adjectives that will stick, in fact, and am thus having to resort to a negative-relief portrait here.  And for all that nondescript flavor, I think they were a little bit pricey for what they were.

I think that what saved this from being a 2-star review is the guacamole we had as an appetizer.  Fantastic!  It was a perfect blend in a generous serving, and even managed to not overdo the cilantro (a common plight in restaurant guac, in my purview).

In all, maybe I should try a burrito next time.  If I do, I'll update my review accordingly.  But the guacamole alone should reserve this restaurant a spot in my "get-drinks-and-a-snack" repertoire.

This place is a monument to why I could never be a vegan.  I mean, I can agree with the whole "morality" thing pretty easily.  But confronted with a healthy slab of smoked gouda, I'm capable of throwing ethics to the wind.

Of course, as a dirt-poor New Yorker, I'm not always able to afford the kind of cheese that makes axiological abandon so delicious.  Oh, wait, scratch that, and put that last sentence in the PAST TENSE!  Because I recently found East Village Cheese.

Here they have all kinds of cheeses for ridiculously good prices.  I'm talking the kind of prices that make you wonder if they bought these cheeses from the guys selling D&G handbags outside of the Whole Foods at Union Square or something.  But they didn't!  These cheeses are delicious and, in some cases, like 30% of the price they go for in other stores.

I'm not sure how they do it, but I'm not inclined to ask too many questions as long as the cheese is delicious and the prices low.

I don't give 5-star reviews often.  So take heed!  I am very happy to have found this little launderer parked in the Slope.  They're quick, friendly, and my clothes come back way clean.  I'm thinking about getting a San Toy tattoo!

So first thing I'm thinking when my head leaves the pillow on my first morning in Park Slope is: "Egregrrgrr, mungterhot...COFFEE."  Problem is, my coffee maker's still packed, and I don't know where to get a good cup of bean juice around here.  I crash the streets, intent on making this right.

The first person I pass, a woman in her early thirties pushing I'm pretty sure two strollers at once with another baby strapped to her chest and one on her back, gives he a horrified gasp and verily throws her young charges behind a parked Audi SUV to protect them from my staggering rampage.  I realize that my Affable and Neighborly Composure must be needing some serious recalibration.  Where's that coffee?!

Then I see the sign for Café Regular du Nord.  It's brightly colored and so I move toward it instinctively.  Outside some pleasant-looking middle-class people are sipping delicious-looking espresso drinks, sitting at teensy-weensy little tables and facing out toward the street.  Through the large front windows I see a dark, wooden interior decorating scheme, which I can always appreciate, even in moments of crippling cognitive torpor.

"Looks French!" I say to myself, or possibly aloud, as I lurch through the doorway and to the counter.  Actually, I'm guessing I said that out loud, given the barista's expression.  "Um, coffee.  Please.  For stay."

And so soon enough I'm sitting down, lucky to have a seat in the rather cramped interior of the shop, sipping my coffee.  And it's good coffee, some of the best I've had since moving to NYC.  I notice that the clientele seem to be friendly, upstanding people.  The baristas are efficient and nice enough.  I don't immediately dislike anything.

The real selling point, apart from the brew itself, is the décor of the place.  It's high-ceilinged, with various compatible art-styles covering most of the walls.  And then on one wall there's a huge mural that looks like it could be an homage to James Ensor, which actually looks pretty good and finishes the room nicely.  Maybe the motif is Belgian after all, not French...

Once awake, I have a second cup and a delectable chocolate croissant, and think I'd like to come back here again sometime.