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.

Caffe Martier

Here's a nice place for coffee, pastry and a chat. It was delightfully not-crowded on the Saturday after Christmas. My latte was hot, dark, rich and smooth. I sampled the hot chocolate, topped with frothed milk and a chocolate-syrup design, it was excellent.

All of the desserts and pastries looked delicious and a waiter described each type for us. We shared a tropical fruit confection that was totally delightful.

We kept an eye on the dishes delivered to other tables, everything looked really good, including the crepes. The portions are big at Caffe Martier, sharing is a good idea.

Observer effect

In the past year, I've noticed the observer effect kicking in regarding my restaurant experiences. According to Wikipedia, my source for all things physics-related, "In experimental research, the term observer effect refers to changes that the act of observing will make on the phenomenon being observed."

None of my recent restaurant meals have qualified as phenomenal, but the possibility that I might blog about them makes me observe them differently, almost as if I'm simultaneously verbalizing or notating my impressions, rather than just chowing down.

I'm related to a long line of people who never forgot a single bite of food that ever entered their mouths. I thought that gene had skipped me. But these days I remember meals in great detail. I come across a takeout menu and recall, "That's the place where the fries tasted sort of fishy ..."

And those pet peeves about service that you've all confided to me over the years? I'm noticing them, too. Glancing through the stack of receipts on my desk brings to mind the waiter who didn't break up my change into anything smaller than a 10, perhaps in hopes of a larger tip. Or the waitress who asked if we were done, while we were still chewing, forks hovering over half-full plates. Or the dreaded query, "Do you want change?"

The funny thing is, none of these things have interfered with my enjoyment whatsoever. I don't think the food or service is any better or worse than what I've experienced over the years. I still have a good time and enjoy myself practically every time I go out.

But I do notice things more, and think about what components add up to a positive or negative restaurant experience. And all of those thoughts are bound to end up posted here, sooner or later.

Malabar Hill, Elmsford, NY

There was a hair in my raita.

Check out Uncle WestFester's complete (and more positive) take on Malabar Hill.