Dateline: Nubia

A lot of the meals we ate in Egypt contained many of the same elements. Whether it was breakfast, lunch or dinner, there was likely to be a variety of breads, small dishes of olives, pickled veg, hummus, yogurt, fresh fruit, tomatoes, cucumbers, and more; plus plates of cold cuts and sliced cheeses.

Breakfast was likely to include grilled tomatoes topped with cheese, scrambled eggs, omelettes, beef or chicken sausage, hot and cold cereal, and fuul -- mashed fava beans, which you can self-season with red pepper, cumin, salt, lime juice and oil. Properly seasoned fuul is very tasty, though sometimes it was served in dishes labeled "foul," "fool," "fowl" or "crashed beans," none of which sound especially enticing.

Typical main courses for lunch and dinner include kofta (ground beef or lamb grilled as a kebab) or chicken, served with rice and veg. Fish is occasionally an option.

It took me a while to notice I was eating basically the same foods every day, because each cook put a unique spin on the ingredients and seasonings.

One example that really stands out is a barbecue luncheon served on an island in the middle of the Nile, catered by our hotel, the Basma in Aswan (right). Set and setting undoubtedly had a lot to do with my enjoyment of this particular meal -- seated in the shade at a beautifully appointed table within sight of the Nile on a gorgeous day -- but so did the way the chef handled the seasonings and the stove.

We spent the morning riding camels up to explore the ruins of San Simeon Monastery (circa 6th century AD), then visited a Nubian village where I wish I had bought a kora. Then our Nubian boatman motored us through the reeds in a scene that more than one of us compared to "The African Queen." It was a fun-filled morning, and in spite of the nice snacks provided at the Nubian village, I was actually hungry.

Once on the island, we sat at linen-draped tables under a pergola and dined on a selection of salads including spicy pickled vegetables, herbed olives and smoky baba ganoush. This chef seasoned very generously with black pepper and garlic. The main dishes included sea bass grilled in foil with tomatoes and peppers, crisp grilled chicken and cubes of tender beef. Cinnamon rice was provided, along with the usual white variety. Every bite was a delight.

I'm certain there was also dessert. There's a slight chance I may have skipped it, as the chicken was so good seconds were practically a necessity.

Four-star(ch) dining

Our fearless leader, Madame Mumtaz, loved to take us on "discoveries," to increase our understanding of how the other half (or the other 99 percent) lives. One such discovery was a restaurant in Aswan favored by locals where we dined on koushari.

The modest two-story restaurant had the square footage -- and the ambience -- of some of my favorite New York destinations such as Sirtaj, Margon and Tajin. Same decorator, too: Formica tables, fluorescent lights, scarred vinyl tile floors. Like the meals served by the aforementioned faves, koushari is starchy, served in abundant portions and reasonably priced (I'm guessing about the last -- Madame Mumtaz treated).

Koushari is mainly pasta tossed with beans, lentils, chickpeas and other legumes. I suspect the variety and proportions vary according to what the cook has on hand. It's as spicy as you want to make it -- the food is served with lime and garlic sauce and a snappy red-pepper sauce on the side.

There's something about the multiple starches that had a comforting effect. A lot of the food in Egypt somehow brought to mind the cozy food mom used to make, though I doubt that my mother -- excellent cook that she was -- ever heard of baba ganoush or could have gotten away with serving eggplant at virtually every meal.

Rice pudding was offered for dessert. There's an extremely short list of foods I don't eat. I regret to say that rice pudding is on that list. I hated to offend the honor of the chef, but I was so overserved, foodwise, for so many days, I just couldn't go for it. However, the rice-pudding aficionados in the group gave it their stamp of approval.

Dateline: Cairo

As I've probably mentioned before, my idea of a perfect meal is a few bites of a lot of different dishes. That preference means Egyptian dining is ideal for me, though the abundance of choices -- and the delightful seasonings that guarantee I'll want more than a few bites of each -- mean a light meal is almost impossible.

The lunch we enjoyed at Andrea, which we visited on the way to Sakkara, is an outstanding example. We started with multiple "salads": baba ganoush, hummus, tahini, beets, bean salad, cabbage with a tangy mustardy dressing, and baskets of hot pita fresh from the clay oven. Next, french fries and a couple of meatballs -- crunchy on the outside with juicy centers, followed closely by grilled chicken, rice and veg.

The chicken was remarkable. We had seen and smelled dozens of them spinning slowly on rotisseries as we entered the courtyard. The scene would delight the heart of any ace barbecuer. Since I try to be somewhat health conscious, I'm usually a skin chucker. But this skin was sublime: crunchy, seasoned with lots of salt, pepper, garlic and fresh oregano. The meat directly under the skin was crisped to an almost jerky-like consistency -- smoky, chewy and delicious. The spices penetrated the meat down to the bone.

Somehow I had room for sweet green-fleshed melon to end the meal. Or maybe I just wanted to linger a little longer in the beautiful courtyard, surrounded by adobe style buildings. Reed matting overhead shaded us from the sun, as we relaxed amidst the fragrant flowers. Another magical meal in Misr.

Dateline: Aswan

"The better the view, the worse the cuisine" seems to be some kind of unwritten restaurant law. Think of every top-floor revolving restaurant you've ever been to, or any Chart House. If they can pull you in with some other element, they can build a clientele without having to rely on the food.

Nubian Home Restaurant is a stellar exception to the rule. Situated atop one of Aswan's highest hills, Nubian Home has a stunning three-sided view, overlooking the Nile, the city's skyline with its domed basilicas and towering mosques, Elephantine Island, the Temple at Philae, ruins of 11th-century fortifications, Aga Khan's tomb, and even the home of Egyptian pop star Mohammed Mounir.


To spend a pleasant hour or two at this vantage point watching feluccas and motorboats ply the Nile would be reward enough. An edible meal would be a nice extra. But the four courses served to our group at Nubian Home ranked among the best meals we had during two weeks of feasting in Egypt.

As with many Egyptian meals, this luncheon feast began with a selection of cool salads: white beans, chickpeas, and potatoes with a light mustard dressing. Tahini was provided for dipping chunks of light wheat bread, which was dusted with coarse whole-wheat flour. One of our fellow travelers commented that although the bread wasn't warm, it hadn't been out of the oven very long.

The next course consisted of three tagines -- earthenware dishes full of okra, eggplant, and meatballs, each tender and tasty in a different style of tomato-based sauce. I didn't expect to have much interest in the main course: grilled chicken with cous cous and crisp-tender vegetables. However, it was so excellently prepared and attractively presented, I almost ate the whole thing. That left no room for dessert: fresh whole bananas and peaches. I tucked a piece or two in my bag, in case I was ever hungry again.

The staff was welcoming, service efficient and nonintrusive.

As if the food and view were not enough, the Nubian Home even had some scarves and souvenirs for sale. A poly-sensual experiance, as MBTP might say.

Dateline: Giza

In a post earlier this year, I mentioned that it doesn't surprise me that a wonderful feast for two can be had for an investment the size of a week's unemployment check. What's more amazing is to be served a quite good meal that costs no more than an hour or two of minimum wage.

I had an exposure to the extreme end of that spectrum recently at Felfela, a take-out stand practically in the shadow of the pyramids. Falafel with tahini on pita can be had for a single Egyptian pound (exchange rate: 5.62 pounds to a buck).

Egyptian falafel is made of ground fava beans, rather than the more common chickpeas, blended with spices including fresh coriander leaf (a.k.a. cilantro), parsley, lime juice and spices. The crispy-fried Felfela version was drizzled with tahini and tucked into light, fresh pita. Another version Cousin and I tried featured tender, garlicky grilled eggplant on the same pillowy pita.

Madame Mumtaz, our fearless leader, suggested we order our falafel without salad (garnishes of tomato and lettuce). Several people in our group went for the full treatment without ill effect.

We enjoyed a tasty, satisfying dinner for two for less than the cost of the largest Starbucks latte. Cheap at twice the price.

Dateline: Luxor

Libra Zebra reports in from her Egypt adventure, and appears to be eating well:

"We got a 4:30 wake-up call to be ready in time for our Egyption Farmhouse Breakfast. It was still pitch dark at 5 when we took a motor boat across the Nile from our hotel, walked down a narrow gangplank and up a little hill overlooking the river. The area was enclosed on three sides with fabric hangings and the ground was covered with Oriental carpets. We sat on low stools around two round tables were set with crisp linens. A brass tray in the center of the table held olives, cucumber, tomatoes, baba ganoush, feta and tahini. A galabeya-clad gentleman passed two types of bread fresh out of a kiva-style earthen oven, and poured fresh-squeezed orange juice. Cousin compared it to a scene from the Arabian Nights.

As the stars faded and the sky brightened, we feasted on an assortment of cheeses and cold cuts, omelets prepared to order, cereals, fuul (a lentil dish kind of the texture of refritos, which you can season to taste with ground chilis and cumin), sausages, fresh and dried fruit, Egyptian rice, yoghurt, pastries, and more. What a feast! Lots of different tastes and textures to sample. I couldn't begin to try them all, but I could have happily stayed there all day to try.

The sun rose over the Nile as birds chirped in the rustling trees surrounding our little slice of paradise. A meal we'll never forget."

Star Diner, White Plains

The Star Diner puts the grease in greasy spoon. It's a great joint for reasonably priced, well-prepared old school breakfast fare such as corned beef hash and eggs or ham steak and eggs, served with hash browns and toast.

Fortunately, breakfast is available round the clock. I don't recommend the Star for lunch or dinner.

I visited the Star recently. The waitress was very charming, she recommended the daily specials: either the pot roast or stuffed peppers. But I was hoping to satisfy a fried chicken jones. The Star didn't scratch my itch -- the chicken was mostly bone and breading, the mashed spuds were cold and boring, the gravy was why bother. The Grumpy Diner got the pot roast, which consisted of several paper-thin slices of gray meat, with the same dull spuds and gravy and a side of tasteless corn.

None of the meals served to other clients looked appealing either, including diner basics like burgers and sandwiches.

The Star is packed on weekend mornings. But if I ever get a heavy breakfast craving midweek, that will be my destination.

M&M

The six (alleged) contributors to this blog range from excellent cooks to willing helpers. We get together fairly often to eat in or out. Our conversations at one another's houses often include remarks like, "This is better than dinner at (fill in the blank)." When we're perusing menus, one of us is likely to say, "I don't want to order (use your imagination), I fix that at home."

But another phrase I often use is: "The only thing I like better than my own cooking is someone else's." Going to a restaurant isn't about subsistence, it's an opportunity to relax and talk with friends or colleagues or potential clients. It's easier to focus on my companion(s) and the conversation if I'm not involved in cooking or serving, my phone's not ringing, neighbors aren't passing by the window, the dog next door isn't barking, and countless chores aren't competing for my attention. If I notice chipped paint or a spill or a tchotchke that's obviously in the wrong place, it's not an action item, it has absolutely nothing to do with me.

That brings me to our long-running Mexican food and Margarita tradition. For the past five or more years, groups ranging from three to a dozen or so regulars have gotten together periodically to eat, drink and catch up. I don't remember how or when south of the border officially became the cuisine of choice for these gatherings. But these days when one of us says it's time for M&M, nobody thinks we're talking about something that melts in your mouth, not in your hand.

We've probably visited well over a dozen places over the years. Some have been one-shots remembered only by nicknames such as "the slow place" or "the place that charges for chips." Others have have become favorites: We all know by now that what started out as "the place with the backyard" is actually called Paquito's. While other places may have better food (including "the noisy place," a.k.a. Los Dos Mulinos), Paquito's ranks high for being quiet enough for us to talk, and tolerant enough to let us linger long into the evening.

Each of our regular M&M venues will get its due here eventually, but our most recent choice, Gabriela's, is a particular fave. We've been to at least three incarnations of this Upper West Side stalwart, and on our most recent visit Miz Style declared it "probably the best Mexican food I've ever had."

From the fiery and complex salsas to the moist tres leches cake, it's hard to make a bad choice. I usually go for the pollo yucateco, moist, crisp-skinned rotisserie chicken with a subtle touch of orange, served with a flavorful mole poblano or nutty pipian sauce. This time Mean Cuisine and I shared the chicken and an order of carnitas uruapan -- crispy pork served with fresh pico de gallo and a creamy avocado tomatillo relish. Both were very, very good. Miz Style chose cochinita pibil, tender, citrus-y pork, which rated the "best ever" remark. The Practical Joker (she really needs a different name, maybe "she who rocked the outhouse") was pleased with her veggie dish.

It's time to hit this place again!

Iridium

I caught pianist Linda Presgrave's set at Iridium the other night and enjoyed it immensely. Anyone who can start a set with a Melba Liston tune, wrap it up with a Mary Lou Williams piece and play lots of good, solid originals in between is all right with me. And as I overheard someone say, you can't go wrong with Harvie S and Allison Miller as a rhythm section.

I skipped the food, went straight for a glass of Hogue Riesling, which was not on par with the vineyard's other whites. Maybe it had been open way too long. I wouldn't order it again.

My waiter committed a service faux pas that was new to me. He picked up my check and cash, then interrupted the conversation to ask how much money I wanted back. He stood by the table to sort through a wad of bills and count out my change.

I can feel my friend the Billder gnashing his teeth over this one, all the way from California.

Keens Steakhouse

When we first moved to New York, we used to go to Keens fairly often. It was a good place to stop on the way to the D train at Herald Square (the block between 5th and 6th may be the longest block in the whole world).

But once we changed jobs and commutes, the place dropped off our radar. For some reason we headed there around the holidays -- the line at the TKTS booth was impossible, the city was packed, and we wanted to do something before we turned around and went home. The cold weather wasn't conducive to a long walk, and it was way too early to hit a club for some music. We started heading south from Times Square and somehow ended up seated in a cozy booth in front of the fireplace in Keens Pub Room.

The food menu offers standard steakhouse fare -- but the Scotch menu has hundreds of entries. I chose an Auchentoshan 3 Wood, which I enjoyed very much.

We both started with lobster bisque, which had a beautiful golden color and smooth texture. It had the kind of complexity that made me want to savor every bite, to enjoy the seafood, sherry and veggie flavors. The Grumpy Diner treated himself to prime rib and I chose a tuna steak. Both arrived on the rare side, juicy and piping hot. My tuna came with a delicious creamy, mildly spicy chili sauce, the combination was new to me and very much to my liking. Sides included mashed yukon gold potatoes, creamed spinach and steamed veg. For some reason, we had no room for dessert.

This was a real four-star meal, and we were happy to take home leftovers to enjoy over the next couple of days. The price puts Keens in the splurge category for us, though the Pub Room has a reasonable "light dining" menu. The atmosphere is very pleasant, I prefer the Pub Room over the bar or the larger dining rooms. We were able to talk and enjoy our time together without straining to be heard. The service was excellent -- attentive, welcoming, nonintrusive.

Hmmm ... maybe the Grumpy Diner would like to go there for his birthday ... I certainly want to go back!

Jazz Standard

There's never a food or drink minimum at Jazz Standard, making it lighter on the budget and on the diet than other clubs. But my dietary resolve dissolves as soon as I open the front door and catch the fragrance of wood-smoked barbecue.

Sometimes the food actually lives up to that seductive promise. It did last Saturday, when I went to check out drummer extraordinaire Cindy Blackman. I wasn't really hungry, so I opted to share a burger, fries, and a mac-and-cheese side -- nice light meal, huh?

We told the waiter we wanted to share. Instead of bringing a plated meal and an extra dish, he brought two plates, each with an individual small, thick, ultra-juicy burger on fresh buns that had the consistency of home-made english muffins. The burger was topped with semi-melted bleu cheese running down the sides. Lettuce, tomato, onion slices and pickles garnished each dish, along with more than enough fries. On request, the waiter brought two kinds of barbecue sauce. One was good; the other was amazing, pairing a slightly fruity flavor that may have been tamarind with a nice smoky chipotle bite.

The mac-and-cheese was served separately in a rather large ramekin, the top nicely browned and crunchy. It was a little saucy, the way I like it -- sometimes it's been nice and cheddar-y but a little dry at this venue.

The burger was the star. It had a wonderful grilled, meaty flavor, and was so juicy I was glad the lights were down so no one could see me dribbling. Even the cheese had a wonderful texture. How often do I kvell about a burger?

The food menu isn't huge. I don't find the appetizers especially interesting, calamari with a sweet red pepper dip is the exception. I've never tried the salads -- who goes to a bbq joint for a salad? And they're up toward the $10 range and I just can't make myself pay that much for a little salad. The spicy cheese fries are great, fun to share.

I've tried chicken, sausage, salmon and sausage entrees. When the entrees are good, they're very good. Sometimes they're dry and not that interesting.

Jazz Standard has an extensive drink menu, including Old Overholt rye whiskey, a fave of mine, which I grew up calling "Old Overalls." I was surprised to see Auchentoshan 3 Wood single malt whisky is considerably more expensive at the Standard than at Keen's, where I recently tasted it for the first time. For the price of three shots you could buy a bottle at Zachy's.

The service can be a bit problematic. The Lady in Red wants to write a book about table service at jazz clubs -- it ranges from uneven to awful, across the board. Everyone at the Standard is very nice, they always are at Danny Meyer restaurants. I always try to get to a club in time to eat before the music starts. Cindy Blackman doesn't play dinner music. None of the jazz I like is dinner music. Besides, I don't want to multitask: I can't give either the food or the music the attention it deserves.

But time of arrival has nothing to do with when you can order, which has nothing to do with when you're served. So that's why I always vow I won't eat at the club. Until I open the door and pick up that delightful aroma ...

Obama and me

Since we're all into all things Barack, a 2001 video has surfaced of him talking about one of his favorite restaurants in Chicago. I laughed when he talked about ordering the Southern sampler because he couldn't make up his mind. Sounds like me.

I study the menu as if I'll never eat again, then pick something that lets me taste several things: mixing and matching soups, salads, and small dishes, or choosing an entree that combines a variety of ingredients or comes with appealing sides. I rarely order something like a steak and a spud. I love cuisines that encourage ordering multiple dishes and sharing. And then there's the time-honored tradition of "bitesies" that the jewelry maven and I have been into for decades.

Obama also declares that when it comes to restaurants, he's interested in "food that tastes good, for a good price." Yup, that's me again.

It doesn't surprise me that a wonderful feast for two can be had for an investment the size of a week's unemployment check. What's more amazing is to be served a quite good meal that costs no more than an hour or two of minimum wage.

I've actually been to at least three places Obama favors for chow, and all of them fall into the second category.

Ben's Chili Bowl in Washington is a long-time fave. I heard about it through Jane and Michael Stern's book Roadfood , the bible for those of us who favor category no. 2 cuisine.

Ben's is a down-home place, with a counter and a few booths in the front and tables in the back. There's something about it that reminds me of the late, lamented Landrum's, my long-time Reno hang.

You make your choices from a board posted behind the counter, place your order, then find a seat. Ben's serves good, unpretentious food, and lots of it. I always order the chili, fries and half-smoked sausage, it's all good. I promise I'll go back some day for the scrapple and egg breakfast. I hope Obama's watching his cholesterol -- Ben's is a temple of heart-stopping goodness.

Last year on Oahu with the Grumpy Diner, the Jewelry Maven and the Billder, one of us asked a parking lot cashier about a good place to get a burger. She told us about a few rather spiffy places in downtown Honolulu, then confided that most local people prefer the Rainbow Drive-In. I recently found out that Obama was a regular there when he lived in Hawaii, and went back several times during his vacation when he was our president elect.

The Rainbow is a great place to get a quick bite. You place your order at the window, then hover around waiting for a seat at an outdoor table. There's a relaxed atmosphere, but you probably don't want to linger because: 1) There's someone waiting for a table, and/or 2) you're on your way to do something fun.

The Rainbow burger was thin, gray, not remotely interesting. Fortunately, only one of us ordered it. The rest of us scarfed down our mahi-mahi (or pork cutlet or mix plate) served with rice, macaroni salad and sauce, offering bitesies to the poor burger eater. We ate there at least four or five times, it was usually our main meal of the day. The food is good, inexpensive, and abundant. There's great people watching, and a good vintage aloha shirt store in the neighborhood. What's not to like?!

During our two weeks on Oahu, we usually picked breakfast from the fruit trees surrounding our house, then headed out for our day of fun. First stop: Matsumoto's in Haleiwa for a shave ice. I don't think we went a single day without stopping at the place, which has the feel of an old-time general store. Locals and tourists alike line up to order crushed ice topped with flavored syrup in colors that are only found in nature if you're in a tropical environment. Choices range from lilikoi to root beer to guava to bubblegum to peach, up to three kinds per cone. I skipped the optional toppings like condensed milk or azuki bean, and mostly stuck with the fresh fruit flavors. Once we all got our orders, we'd sit outside on the benches or window shop along the street while enjoying our treats. A great way to start the day!

Evergreen Shanghai

When I worked at 38th and Madison toward the end of the '90s, Evergreen Shanghai was one of the few affordable places in the neighborhood to have lunch. I was a regular. It may not be the first place I ever had soup dumplings, but it's one of the first to really stand out in my memory for the succulent morsels of pork and spices steamed in tender paper-thin wrappers.

After a long stretch between visits, I've been back to Evergreen a couple of times recently. In December I dropped in for a snack with the Networking Maven after we went to a professional event together. We paused in front of the door right at closing time, and a waiter came out to invite us in. We ordered soup dumplings (still succulent) and crispy scallion pancakes. We nibbled and chatted, recapping the conversations and interactions at our earlier event. We were the only people in the place, I wish I had left a bigger tip. I'm afraid my arithmetic skills were somewhat impaired by our earlier networking session.

I was back at Evergreen earlier this week with Miz Style and the Practical Joker. We were waiting for Mean Cuisine to possibly join us. Once we were seated in the practically empty restaurant, no one approached our table for ages. We happily filled a half hour with conversation, then I flagged down a waiter to ask if we could order drinks. He explained that Evergreen no longer has a liquor license, but if we wanted beer or wine he could tell us where to buy it. I ran out to the liquor store around the corner.

When I returned with a bottle of Hogue Fume Blanc, the staff quickly brought glasses and four dishes of tasty appetizers: sea-veg salad, marinated daikon and carrots, another marinated veg dish, and herbed salted nuts. We relaxed and settled in for an evening of fun.

We ordered soup dumplings, moo shu chicken, Buddha's Delight and broccoli with garlic sauce. All of the portions were large enough to share, the food was hot and fresh. The soup dumplings were divine, as always. The Buddha's Delight was mostly broccoli, with a brown sauce and some cellophane noodles. I enjoyed it, but it was a very different preparation than I'd expected -- the sauce is usually lighter and the veg combination more varied. The moo shu pancakes were very thin and light, the waiter wrapped them for us at tableside and served them with a side dish of hoisin sauce.

The service was a little odd. They mostly left us to our own devices, which is fine with me, since we were there for an evening of food, wine and conversation. But it did seem strange that they didn't offer tea or water or rice, or volunteer the information about the BYOB policy or mention that our main course selections consisted mostly of broccoli.

I would eat there again, but would probably be more "proactive," as the consultants love to say.

Village Cafe, Bronxville

This small place has a split personality: it's a relaxed neighborhood hang and a rather sophisticated dinner house.

At the bar area right inside the front door, everyone knows one another and the bartender knows what each of them drinks. There's a ballgame on the TV and lots of lively chatter. Seems as if it could be a likely place to meet tomorrow's breakfast companion.

The full bar offers a nice variety of beers on tap. With about a dozen wines available by the glass, in addition to the usual chardonnays and sauvignon blancs the Village Cafe has rieslings and gewurtztraminers and a few sparkling wines. The reds are equally varied.

Dinner is served at the bar or at the comfortably upholstered booths and tables. The dining area has soft lighting, mirrors, and a rose and burgundy color scheme, right down to the table linens. The dinner menu offers a few salads, sandwiches and burgers, but most of the preparations are on the fancy side, with reduced sauces artfully pooled and painted on the oversize square plates.

I came across the Village Cafe when jazz pianist Leslie Pintchik was gigging there around Christmas. I caught her first set from the bar, she and her trio sounded great. All the food looked really good too, so I decided to come back to give the place a try for dinner. I even knew where I'd sit -- a deuce in the back of the house close to the tiny bandstand. An ideal spot for listening, and one of the few seats from which you can't see the TV.

Leslie was back there last night, and so was I, ready for an evening of good music and good food. I was satisfied on both counts.

Dinner started with a calamari appetizer, which arrived piping hot, with two dipping sauces: a quite good version of the usual marinara, and a rich, somewhat Asian sauce with a tangy tahini taste. Very good -- nice contrast between the light crispy coating and the juicy tender calamari. My entree was a daily special, horseradish crusted cod, served with mashed potatoes, sauteed spinach and grilled asparagus. Another winner, cooked to perfection, topped with a buttery reduced wine sauce. I was in the clean plate club. I also sampled the grilled skirt steak: Excellent.

Service was good. When we were shown to our booth, our waiter was there to take our coats. Overall, the staff was efficient and friendly, they took good care of us without hovering.

The trio sounded great, playing a nice mix of material including a surprising arrangement of "Blowing in the Wind" that featured some stellar improvisation. I wouldn't have guessed that was possible on that particular tune, which is done badly most of the time. They also played standards and a beautiful version of Herbie Hancock's "Dolphin Dance."

The Village Cafe has different kinds of music every Friday, and though it's not really a listening crowd, I'm likely to go back next time they have jazz.

But I'll only sit in the back if I plan to eat -- TV is not part of a fine dining experience.

Isle Thai

Isle has a lot going for it: The excellent food, low prices, good location, sleek decor and great people watching have drawn me back on at least three occasions. The so-so service doesn't bother me in particular, but the loud dance music may be the deal breaker. I find myself eating to the beat, and holding a conversation is out of the question. There's something kind of depressing about sitting in a practically empty restaurant with blaring dance music. It feels as if the host threw a gala party and less than a handful of guests showed up. The "ambient" music destroys the ambience. The last time I was there is likely to be literally the last time.

Sirtaj, 36 W. 26th St., NYC

I worked around the corner from this budget-wise Indo-Pak restaurant for years, and takeout from Sirtaj was a daily event. We continued to place regular orders after we moved up by Grand Central; the delivery arrived by cab. Whenever I eat Indian food elsewhere, I find myself making mental comparisons: This isn't as spicy as at Sirtaj. Sirtaj makes a richer sauce for this dish. The naan is chewier at Sirtaj. Etc.

The Sirtaj menu boasts of the "inspiring atmosphere" and "ample space for parties," but it's not the alleged ambience that has regularly brought me back to this bare-bones storefront for almost two decades.

I've ordered everything on the menu several times over and can't recall a time when I've been disappointed. Faves include tikka saag, chicken makhni and keema peas, served with basmati rice and raita. The food is typically quite fiery, but if you want to really stoke the flames ask for chili-onion relish; there's also a green cilantro sauce that soothes the burn.

A few days before the election, Miz Style said, "In these days when everything seems to be going wrong, it's so great we can still count on Sirtaj." Amen.