Sometimes you have a better shot of finding a cab at 4 o'clock in the afternoon, on a rainy day, in Manhattan than finding a good old school Italian red sauce restaurant in the city. Yeah, little Italy is flooded with old school spots, but over the past 20 years the quality of the food has become so bad that only a tourist with a fanny pack in tote can appreciate. Besides, I'm from Brooklyn, so there is a better chance of me joining Yelp than stepping foot into any of those places. There's also places like Carbone, where you have to wait weeks for a reservation or you end up eating dinner at 11:30pm on a Tuesday night at a small cramped table located near the bathroom. Then there are places like Galli in Soho. Galli is a little bit off the radar, but with food good enough to roll with the heavy hitters of the red sauce game.

Nestled on Mercer, between Grand and Broome street, Galli is adorned with huge sign that says "Restaurant." As we swung open two huge glass doors, we were greeted by a hostess who took us past a long white marble top bar, and past large leather booths to our seats in the back of the restaurant. Two menus were placed on our table along with thinly sliced Italian bread and a dish filled with olive oil and balsamic - official. The menu was simple, just straight up red sauce dishes. This is what we ordered: 

Gamberi ($17) Rigatoni, broccoli, fresh mozzarella  and shrimp served up in a creamy pink sauce. The Crunchy brocoli and perfectly cooked shrimp made me shovel every inch of this dish into my mouth. I've had this plenty of times in other restaurants and only a handful have nailed it, add Galli to that list.    

  
Fried Calamari ($13) Your standard fried calamari with a few plump fried shrimp thrown into the mix, served with a chipotle mayo and Galli's house tomato sauce. Tender in texture, but a little bland. A few spoonfuls of the house red sauce and everything started to make sense. I left the chipotle mayo sauce on the side because my Brooklyn card would be revoked if anyone found out I was dipping calamari into chipotle mayo.

Chicken Parm ($17)   A thin cutlet, breaded and fried, topped with Galli's house red sauce and served with a side of penne in sauce. I knew I was about to eat something good when I saw the burn spots on the cheese. It amazes me how many places can fuck up a simple dish like this but Galli got it right. Thin, crispy and a portion big enough to feed a small group of newly fired model. Galli's house sauce had me reaching for more bread to soak up all the red sauce goodness.

Red sauce spots are a dime a dozen in Manhattan, but finding a good one is nearly impossible. Either they're over-hyped, or some assbag from Ohio who grew up eating Totino's pizza rolls tries to reinvent the wheel. Galli just gets it right - bringing the old school into the new school without fucking it up.

Galli

45 Mercer St, New York, NY

‎(212) 966-9288 ‎

gallirestaurant.com

The summer wind came blowing in and with a blink of an eye the summer wind blew right out, But not without one last day of indulgence in hog heaven, also  known as Pig island.  Twenty five chefs from all five boroughs serve up 80 locally sourced pigs which are paired along with locally crafted Sixpoint beer, cider from Hudson valley and wine from the finger lakes region of new york.

Pig Island is usually held on governors island but this year the host and founder of the event Jimmy Carbone decided to bring hog heaven to the Red Hook water front to boost the morale of the area after it was destroyed by hurricane Sandy in 2012. Also proceeds of the event will go towards add value farm, a small community farm that was destroyed from hurricane Sandy. Here's a quick recap of what went down during Pig Island.

Michael Jenkins, Butter - Oink McMuffin

Joe Dobias, JoeDoe – Gringo Burrito

Bill Fletcher and Matt Fisher, Fletcher’s Brooklyn BBQ – Ginger & Soy Pork with Chick Pea Salad

Bill Kooper, Route 66 Smokehouse - Smoked Porchetta Sandwich

Peter Kaminsky, Author of Bacon Nation - Pork sliders w bacon jam

PigIsland.com

Lunchtime for me is always limited. Sometimes I don't even have lunch because I am so busy running around Manhattan. I recently found myself working in the Financial District with time to spare, and I wanted something really good for lunch. I remembered that nearby there's a GO Burger kiosk serving up burgers and fries. I always wanted to try their truck, but never had the chance. I figured  - what do I have to lose?

Located behind the W Hotel on Washington Street was small box with a window, an exhaust hanging out of it's roof,  and a GO! Burger logo plastered all over it - this must be the place! A quick peek at the menu and this what I got :  

BLT ($7.50): Double Smoked Bacon, American Cheese, Lettuce, Tomato, Red Onion, Pickles, GO Burger Sauce. First of all, my burger was cooked well-done. I should have went back and thrown it at them. You know who eats a well done burgers? Assholes. Secondly, my burger looked like someone sat on it. This maybe the shittiest tasting burger I've had in a while and If I wanted a shitty burger I would have went to up the block to Burger King. 

Skinny Fries ($4): As I waited for my order, I noticed money grip removing two brown bags from a freezer - one of which held the "skinny fries." Precious was skinnier than these fries. Heavy, starchy and loaded with salt. How the fuck do you call yourself a burger spot when you serve frozen shit? 

Vidalia Onion Rings ($5): That second bag I told you about held these grease traps they called onion rings. Greasy and full of salt, I had to throw away half of them. 

They should rename this place "You should GO! Somewhere else burger." What a shit hole! It's no wonder that the only people I saw buying food from them were tourists - and not just regular tourists. These were the ones that still use paper maps and stuff the extra napkins into their fanny packs.

Go Burger

123 Washington Street NY 10006 (other locations)

I would say that 75% of the time I find a new restaurant, it's through word of mouth. When I say word of mouth I don't mean the fucksticks on Yelp. It's always a recommendation I get from someone I respect in the food game. Once in a while I will take a recommendation from a girl I am dating, just to see if they're wifey material (and probably because I haven't hit the poom-poom yet.) My latest had recommended a place called "Flex Mussels" 

Anyone who knows me knows that I hate gimmicky restaurants with gimmicky names, and unless I'm missing something "Flex Mussels" is as gimmicky as it gets. The things I do for a pretty face. My date and I headed to their Chelsea location, right off of 6th avenue. I noticed and hoped for outside seating but was whisked past a bar / oyster shucking station to a cramped corner in the back of the restaurant.

A quick skim of the menu and this is what we ordered :

The Mexican ($21.50) Chipotle, adobo, chorizo, calamari. This Mexican should be deported. The chorizo wasn't spicy, the calamari was tasteless and rubbery, the broth tasted like this was the pot in which the homeless guy washed his socks and soiled underwear.

Thai mussel ($21.50) Curry, coconut broth, lemongrass, kaffir lime, coriander, lime, ginger, garlic.  When I imagine a bowl of mussels , I see a big heaping pot filled to the top with all kinds of fresh herbs, etc. What I got was a large bowl which looked liked a homeless man just finished shitting into was placed in front of me with barely any mussels, don't let the picture fool you. As I shook my head at this sorry poor presentation,  I began to think as to why can't I smell any curry? Oh that's right, because my broth was watered down and had barely any taste.

 

Truffle Fries ($11) Pre-cut french fries that turned soggy within about 8 seconds of hitting our table. There was enough salt on these fries to start another ocean on another planet. They should have paid me $11 for eating this soggy dogshit

Donuts ($10) A donut  with your choice of filling, we went with caramel and a peanut butter and jelly donut. The donut was pretty good, light and tasty but the peanut-butter tasted like it was Key Food brand. 

I have to say, my experience at Flex Mussels was awful. Not only was the food bad but the service was horrible. My date and I watched as two other tables were seated about 15 minutes after us, and got their food before us. No complimentary drinks, nothing taken off the tab, not even apology. Another thing about this place is the way they plate their food. I got a pound of mussels in a 5 quart pot. I felt like I was scraping the bottom of someone else's dinner. A bag of mussels costs what? $4-$5 a bag? When I'm paying a premium for my dinner, I expect everything to be top notch. I usually like to get kissed before I get fucked.

Flex Mussels

154 W 13th St New York
(212) 229-0222

flexmusselsny.com

There ain't shit you can tell me about Americanized Italian food. I grew up close to Bensonhurst, a southern region in Brooklyn (south of Bay Ridge, get a compass asshole) which was home to the largest population of Italians in the borough. A lot of my friends were Italian, and since Italian food is way better than Russian food, I took every chance I had to eat at their houses so I could escape the endless bowls of borscht, dark black breads, and all pickled everything. Chicken parm, baked ziti, stuffed shells, steak pizzaiola, this is all shit I know well. Straight up, 100%, Americanized Italian food. I'm so official I pronounce capicola as "gabagool." So when I heard about a sandwich spot called Parm which was ran by the kings of the new school of Italian/American cooking, Rich Torissi and Mario Carbone, I needed to check it out. 

Parm is located in Little Italy on Mulberry Street right next to Torrisi, which is known for being a celebrity hangout with great food. I was praying that Amanda Bynes would walk out as I was walking into parm... she's my spirit animal. No such luck, and as I walked into Parm I was greeted by a drunk frat dude sipping his loneliness away at the bar - you know the type, pushing 32 and still rocking his class ring. As we walked past that fuck stick, we were greeted by a host and sat at table that looked like it was a 50's dinner. Didn't need to skim the menu, this is what we got: 

Meatball Parm ($12): Served on a toasted seeded sweet semolina bread, laid a meatball mix with beef, sausage, and veal topped with a mellow tangy tomato sauce, a thin layer of  fresh, creamy, salty mozzarella and a leaf of basil. If a porn star had a baby with a bag of money, these meatballs are  what would come of it. Hands down, the best meatball parm in Manhattan.

Mozzarella Sticks ($10): Why the fuck are you looking at me like that? It's fried motherfucking cheese, of course I ordered it. These weren't those Key Food mozzarella sticks your mom warmed up in the oven instead of deep frying them like someone with citizenship. The cheese was gooey and salty with a crispy fresh coating of bread crumbs, hints of parsley and parmigiana cheese. 

Chicken Parm ($12): Toasted, seeded, sweet semolina bread, thinly cut fried chicken, topped with sauce, fresh mozzarella and a basil leaf. Good, crunchy, juicy. But not better than the meatball parm.

Parm definitely delivered on all of the hype and more. I won't lie, I was a little bit skeptical when I heard that Torissi and Carbone's new spot "Carbone" was charging $48 for shrimp scampi. Like, come on, how good can it be? But now, Parm made me a believer and I'm ready to fork over $48 for a dish that usually costs $24.

Parm

248 Mulberry St  Manhattan, NY 10012

(212)993-7189

Anyone who knows me knows how big a fan I am of Top Chef. I've been to Dale Talde's Talde Brooklyn as well as Harold Dieteltre's kin shop. Next up to bat was Leah Cohen's Pig & Khao. There were a few things that kept me from wanting to try her food. I was really turned off by the great reviews from Steve Cuozzo of the New York Post. I mean, how can you take a news publication seriously when Snooki is on the cover every other week? Pete Wells also gave it a two star review, but I feel like Wells had a pow-wow with an intern and asked "where do the cool kids eat these days?" Another larger factor was Leah herself. I know it's television but every week I was scratching my head and my balls, and asking myself "how the fuck is she still on the show?" But if I believed everything I saw on TV, I'd be 20 pounds lighter and have a twelve-inch penis with just two pills a day.

The only thing Pig & Khao did have going for it was it was a Fatty Crew joint, so I bit the bullet and rolled over to 688 Clinton street on the lower east side. The place was pretty packed for a Sunday, and the sounds of Shyne's "Bad Boyz" bumped in the background muffling the sounds of the conversations at the table and the bar which faced the open kitchen in the middle of the room. The smells from the kitchen would make someone with a full stomach hungrier than a pot head at an Action Bronson concert .  A friend of mine took full charge of ordering and this is what we ordered:

Sizzling Sisig ($14) - Pork head, chilli, whole egg. The dish comes served on a piping hot cast iron plate with a raw egg on top that you mix into the dish, dope!  I never had pig head before so it is hard to say if the texture was good, but the taste was on point. Hints of lemongrass rolled onto your palate with hints of spiciness every so often. 

Crispy Red Curry Rice Salad ($12) - Minced pork, crispy garlic, shallot, coriander, ginger, peanuts, lime-fish sauce. This rice dish, crispy in texture, served with lettuce leafs, had hints of sour and sweet that switched back and forth with every bite. My favorite dish of the night, and I would straight up catch a case for this one.

Quail Adobo ($15) - Soy sauce, vinegar, Szechuan peppercorns, and crispy garlic. Not bad, but not great. Although the bird was crispy and juicy, the flavor was lacking. All I really could taste was soy sauce from beginning to end. 

Khao Soi ($16) - Red curry, coconut milk, chicken, egg noodles, pickled mustard greens and shallots. Pieces of chicken swam in a coconut curry broth, filled chewy dense egg noodles that were topped with crunchy egg noodles. Every bite started off with heat but ended with cool sweet flavor from the coconut milk. This dish should've come with a warning in the description "may cause boner." 

Grilled Curry Lamb Ribs ($24) - Yogurt, pickled beets, whole wheat roti chapathi. The ribs were perfectly cooked and juicy, but the dish had more of a Mediterranean flavor than an Asian one. Needless to say I sucked the meat off the bone. 

The bill came to $146 with drinks but without tip. I couldn't come up with an elaborate ending like I do in the rest of my reviews. All I can say is that I was wrong in every which way and the hierarchy of the food review game were right. 

Pig & Khao

68 Clinton Street New York, N.Y. 10002
(212) 920-4485
pigandkhao.com

So I met this bimbo off of Jdate. You're probably rolling your eyes and saying "what a loser." But it was snowing outside, I was comfortably sitting on my couch, in my boxers, eating cold fried rice out of a bowl that I was carefully balancing on my stomach. And not for nothing, the last girl I met "out" ate her hair, but "only when she gets nervous" which seemed to be every 11 minutes. 

The bimbo and I decided that we should meet up for dinner, preferably Mexican. I have a go-to Mexican spot in Red Hook called "Alma", total panty dropper, but the problem is every time I bring a girl there on a date I always seem to run into them there later - with a guy. So I decided I would stop shitting where I eat and check out this spot called Fonda in Park Slope.

Fonda is located on 7th avenue and owned by Chef Roberto Santibañez, the author of a cookbook called Truly Mexican. I read about Roberto a while back in the New York Times, and I put his place in my mental restaurant index. As we walked into the small, dimly lit space, a hostess greeted us, asking for our reservation and said we could wait for our table by the crowded bar.  

As we waited by the bar, the aura of awkwardness glowed around my date and I. What's wrong with you girls? This girl was acting like I was trying to steal her purse or something. But I have a cure-all for awkwardness - alcohol. 

Two drinks in my date, the drift wood with hair was finally loosening up and put me in charge of ordering a few dishes we would split, considering I was the "epicurean" (someone's reading a new book). As she started to slur her words(lightweight) and talk about her career, her cat, and how much she hates her neighbor, I was playfully smiling and nodding my head along as I read to myself the dishes. Here's what I ordered:

Flautas De Pollo ($8)  Two crispy tortillas filled with shredded chicken, topped with Salsa verde, pasilla de Oaxaca Salsa, queso fresco and crema. Holy fuck was this good! Crispy, and tender with a little heat. If this dish wasn't getting my laid tonight, I would have to re-tweak my pallet.

Guacamole ($11)  Your standard guacamole with small hits of garlic and cilantro, with a chunky Constancy - pretty good. The menu description says the chips are house made - bullshit. These chips tasted like the bag they came out of.

Flautas De Pollo ($8)  Two crispy tortillas filled with shredded chicken, topped with Salsa verde, pasilla de Oaxaca Salsa, queso fresco and crema. Holy fuck was this good! Crispy, and tender with a little heat. If this dish wasn't getting my laid tonight, I would have to re-tweak my pallet.

 Taquitos ($8)  Grilled marinated skirt steak with onions, cilantro, and chile de arbol salsa. "Hey did you order tacos?" Good thing this girl was pretty because she wasn't too bright.  The steak was a little flat even with the salsa verde.

Pollo Norteno ($18)  Boneless achiote marinated chicken tossed with melted chihuahua cheese, served in a skillet and topped with chiles serranos "toreados", cured red onions, with a side of charro beans and warm hand press tortillas. This dish alone will keep me coming back to Fonda. A beautiful, colorful dish hits our table in a cast iron skillet filled with marinated chicken and heaps of melted, gooey, smooth strands of cheese, topped with pickled onions and serrano peppers. This dish is a must - no questions asked.

 

As the night rolled on and the alcohol let loose the awkwardness and woke up gluttony, my date and I were full and slipping into a food coma. Although we didn't agree that people shouldn't toast fresh bagels, we did both agree that Fonda was damn good and neither of use can wait to come back. Little did my date know is that she would have to return with someone else. Me? Date someone who toasts a fresh bagel? Fuck that noise.

Fonda

434 7th Ave Brooklyn, NY

(718) 369-3144

www.fondarestaurant.com