Agatha Christie's Istanbul

All my life I had wanted to go on the Orient Express. When I had traveled to France or Spain or Italy, the Orient Express had often been standing at Calais, and I had longed to climb up into it. Simplon-Orient-Express – Milan, Belgrade, Stamboul...

– Agatha Christie, An Autobiography

All my life I too had wanted to go on the Orient Express. I was only 8 years old when my grandmother gave me an original 1934 edition of Agatha Christie’s thriller, Murder on the Orient Express. It was an easy read. Only 256 pages. But in those pages, I found a new world, filled with dark and sinister characters.

Returning from a case in Syria, the famous detective Hercule Poirot boarded an unusually crowded Orient Express in Istanbul. As the train worked its way through the Balkans, a heavy snowstorm caught the train dead in its tracks.

On that night, Poirot was awoken by a loud cry coming from the compartment next to his, occupied by the mysterious Mr. Ratchett. Seconds later, a bell rang and the conductor arrived at Ratchett’s door.

“Ce n’est rien. Je me suis trompé,” said Ratchett, which was strange, since he was hampered by not knowing any foreign languages.

At breakfast the following morning, as the other passengers complained about being trapped by the snow, Poirot was informed that Mr. Ratchett had been found murdered, stabbed twelve times during the night.

As the evidence mounted, it continued to point in wildly different directions, appearing as though a mastermind was challenging Poirot. But in the end, Poirot’s little grey cells won.

After reading and re-reading Murder on the Orient Express, dreams of the fabled train and its fabulous final destination constantly stirred in my head. So I made the decision: I too would go to Agatha Christie’s Istanbul.

The murderer is with us–on the train now...

After her unhappy marriage to Colonel Archibald Christie came to an end in April 1928, Agatha Christie was determined to leave England behind. Initially her mind was set on the West Indies, but a chance meeting with a naval officer and his wife who had just returned from the Middle East had changed her mind. At age 38, Agatha Christie was going to fulfill her dream of traveling from Calais to Istanbul on board the Orient Express, before continuing on to Baghdad.

Her journey began at Victoria Station in London, where she then traveled to the white cliffs of Dover, before crossing the English Channel to Calais. There, she finally boarded the legendary Orient Express bound for Istanbul, a journey that covered 3,342 kilometers in three days. On that trip she encountered the woman who inspired one of her greatest characters: the loud and obnoxious American woman, Mrs. Hubbard.

Unfortunately, my journey did not begin in London or even Calais, but in Bucharest. Regular service between Calais and Istanbul was discontinued in 1977, but the Simplon-Orient-Express lives on, operating as a luxurious, private train, which operates between London and Istanbul from March until November each year.

After a short time in the Romanian capital, I arrived at Gara de Nord with two friends of mine from college. Together, we boarded our train and settled in for our 18-hour journey.
By midnight, we were racing through Bulgaria, and when I awoke at 8 o’clock, we were traveling along the Sea of Marmara.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be arriving in Istanbul in five minutes.”

As our train pulled into Istanbul’s Sirkeci Garı, I had an overwhelming feeling of excitement, a dream fulfilled. Eighty years ago, Agatha Christie found herself in the same position that I was in. She had gone to bed the night before, probably somewhere in the Balkans, and when she awoke, she was in the Orient.

The Bosphorus was rough and M. Poirot did not enjoy the crossing.

After leaving the train station, we headed to the docks near the Galata Bridge. I was determined to cross the Bosphorus, the tiny strait with stunning blue waves that connects the Black Sea to the Mediterranean, and separates the European side of Istanbul from the Asian side. At 11 o’clock, we boarded the “ATATURK,” a rickety, old ferry bound for Asia. Despite being the end of October, the sun was shining brightly above Istanbul, and a cool breeze was blowing across the deck. A handful of women were standing at the stern of the boat, sunglasses on, hair blowing in the wind. It was also their first trip to Istanbul.

“When I was little, my mother and father told me stories of their trip to Istanbul, and how they crossed the Bosphorus before continuing on to Syria,” said Margaret Smith, 74, an American tourist from Chicago. “I have always dreamt of what it would be like, so I finally sat down and told myself that I was going to do it.”

After ninety minutes, the small ferry finally docked on the Asian side of Turkey, in the picturesque town of Anadolu Kavağı, situated on the peninsula where the Bosphorus meets the Black Sea. It was just as I had imagined it would be like. Small homes lined both the coast and the hills above the town, and fishing boats surrounded the harbor, with hundreds of Turkish men and women waiting for the tourists to disembark.

Madame. Madame, lucky tooth from St. Augustine of Hippo. Lucky Buddha, Madame?

As soon as the passengers left the ferry, they were immediately surrounded by Turkish men and women, carrying enormous wicker baskets, filled with everything from curry and cayenne pepper to a pair of used Nike sneakers to baskets filled with nazar boncuğu (an amulet that protects against the evil eye).

“Sir, sir, I have something perfect for you,” said one of the men, showing me a miniature Turkish flag. “Only 10 Lira.”

I kindly rejected the offer, and headed to the crystal clear shores of the Bosphorus.
Around 3 o’clock, the ferry’s whistle began to blow, and all I could do was imagine Hercule Poirot standing there.

“He was hardly more than five feet four inches but carried himself with great dignity,” said Captain Arthur Hastings upon meeting the famous Poirot. “His moustache was very stiff and military.

“The neatness of his attire was almost incredible; I believe a speck of dust would have caused him more pain than a bullet wound,” added Hastings. “Yet this quaint dandified little man had been in his time one of the most celebrated members of the Belgian police.”

Somewhere in the distance, an announcement was made: “The Bosporus Ferry will shortly depart for Istanbul Sirkeci Station, connecting with the Orient Express.” I could see the characters assembling: Mary Debenham and Colonel Arbuthnot in one corner, with Poirot alone in another.

The return trip was more similar to the one that Hercule Poirot had experienced: the Bosphorus was rough, and with the sun hidden behind the clouds, there was no protection from the cold wind that swept across the boat. No matter how cold, following Poirot’s footsteps had been well worth it.

On arrival at the Galata Bridge, M. Poirot drove straight to the Tokatlian Hotel.

Unfortunately, Hotel Pera Palace – the inspiration for Agatha Christie’s glamorous Tokatlian Hotel – was closed for renovations during my visit. The massive champagne colored, oriental palace loomed large on Mesrutiyet Caddesi, near the leisurely Taksim Square district however, with signs advertising its upcoming grand re-opening. I briefly stood in front of the hotel, with my eyes closed, imagining Room 411, the room where she had written Murder on the Orient Express.

We then worked our way across the Golden Horn, to Sultanahmet, the heart of historic Istanbul, and what 19th-century travelers called “Stamboul.”

After wandering around “Stamboul,” and exploring everything from the Blue Mosque to the Hagia Sophia and Topkapi Palace, I finally stumbled upon Bayezid Square, the entrance to Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar. But to call it a bazaar is a sin. It is more like a small, indoor city, filled with 58 streets and over 6,000 shops. To wander through the Bazaar is a thrilling experience, as it is the perfect setting for one of Agatha Christie’s novels. Anything can be bought there, from spices and silk to old Ottoman doorknobs and Byzantine coins. I was even able to buy a barber shave for $10 USD from Abdullah Youssef, a Jordanian living in Istanbul with his wife and six children.

And for you New Yorkers, the Grand Bazaar makes Canal Street look like an amateur’s show.

“Prada, Gucci, Chanel, we have it all,” shouted one vendor named Mustafa.

“How much for the loafers,” I asked, inquiring about a pair of ‘real’ Prada driving shoes.

“They are real leather my friend, the highest quality,” he responded.

“How much?”

“For you my friend, 100 American dollars.”

I laughed and began to walk away, but suddenly I was beckoned back.

“Okay, okay, for you, a special offer,” he said quietly.

After a going back and forth, I finally got my loafers, for $35 USD. Quite the bargain, indeed.

‘I shall have to go on tonight,’ he said to the concierge. ‘At what time does the Simplon Orient leave?’

On my last day in Istanbul, I returned to Istanbul’s Sirkeci Garı.

Since the decline of the original Orient Express, the train station was renovated and transformed into a regional transportation hub. The glorious old entrance was no longer used, and instead, passengers entered through a modern one near the northwestern end of the station. New ticket windows replaced the old ones, and the old passenger waiting room was transformed into a restaurant, with a suitable name: the Orient Express Restaurant. Above the restaurant’s fireplace was a photo of Agatha Christie, the woman who turned the Orient Express into a symbol of mystery, power, intrigue and glamour.

Despite the hundreds of tourists crowding around the station, Hercule Poirot was still there, lingering on in spirit. I could still see him entering the station with his close friend M. Bouc, the director of Compagnie Internationale des Wagon-Lits. Together the men separated the crowds of merchants and gypsies as they walked towards the train.

Beyond the noise and commotion, a final call was made: “The Orient Express will depart from platform one for Uzonköprü, Sofia, Belgrade, Zagreb, Brod, Trieste, Venice, Milan, Lausanne, Basel, Paris, and Calais, with connections for London.”

The characters began to assemble: the devious Mrs. Hubbard, the gentle Countess Andrenyi, the youthful Mr. MacQueen, and the ruthless Mr. Ratchett. As the conductor Pierre Michel escorted the passengers to their cabins, the whistle blew, creating a melancholy cry from the engine. Suddenly, a jerk, as the train came to life.

The Orient Express has started on its three-days’ journey across Europe.

While Agatha Christie boarded a train of extreme luxury headed for Calais, I boarded a train owned by the Turkish State Railway headed for Thessaloniki, Greece. It was 5 o’clock in the afternoon when the whistle blew, and our train slowly began to leave Sirkeci station. The sun was slowly beginning to set as the train raced along the Sea of Marmara, with the red and orange rays reflecting in the clear blue water. And in that moment, I know that I had left behind a piece of my heart in the fabled Istanbul. I sat back, and closed my eyes, remembering all of the fabulous treasuries that I had seen, in Agatha Christie’s Istanbul.



GETTING THERE
Direct flights between New York's John F. Kennedy International Airport and Istanbul’s Atatürk International Airport are available on either Delta or Turkish Airlines.

WHERE TO STAY
For some extra glamour, try the Four Season Hotel at Sultanahmet (Tevkifhane Sokak No. 1, Sultanahmet-Eminönü, Istanbul; 90 (212) 638 82 00; www.fourseasons.com; rooms starting at 300 EUR per night for a standard double room). Interested in being on the water? Try the brand new Four Seasons Hotel at the Bosphorus (Çirağan Cad. No. 28, Beşiktaş, Istanbul; 90 (212) 381 40 00; www.fourseasons.com; rooms starting at 300 EUR per night for standard double room).

If you are traveling on a budget, but looking to stay down the street from the Four Seasons at Sultanahmet, try a quaint bed and breakfast: Hotel Peninsula (Adliye Sokak No. 6, Sultanahmet, Istanbul; 90 (212) 458 68 50; www.hotelpeninsula.com; rooms starting at 35 EUR per night for a standard double room).

WHERE TO EAT
In Sultanahmet, wander along the main street of Akbiyik Caddesi, which has everything from chicken shish and falafel to narguile (water pipe, hookah). And it’s extremely inexpensive, with most meals being less than 10 TRY ($6.37 or €4,94). If you are looking to experience it all in one sitting, try Café Meşale (Arasta Bazaar, Utangaç Sokak, Cankurtaran; 90 (212) 518 95 62). Located in the Arasta Bazaar, behind the Blue Mosque, Café Meşale has it all: cheap prices, phenomenal chicken shish, whirling dervishes, and what most consider to be the best narguile in Istanbul.

Try Beyoğlu for an excellent outdoor dining experience. Cezayir Street, also known as La Rue Française, has rows of francophone cafés and restaurants. Go to Artiste Terasse (Cezayir Çikmazi, 4/9-10, Galatasaray, Istanbul; 90 (212) 244 70 18) for rooftop views of the Hagia Sophia, Topkapı Palace, Sultanahmet Mosque and Galata Tower.


This piece was originally written for my Travel Writing course, which I took at New York University in Prague in Fall 2008.
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Tina Parol - Who's Got Your Money

Tina Parol is one of my close friends from N.Y.U. and I am so very excited to be posting her first major music video. The title is "Who's Got Your Money." It's super cute, and just a lot of fun to listen to. Enjoy! Read More!

End of an Era

Earlier this morning, it was announced that Toys R Us will be acquiring FAO Schwarz, one of the nation's oldest toy retailers, which opened in 1862 and was immortalized by Tom Hanks in the hit movie Big.

According to Toys R Us CEO Jerry Storch, Toys R Us will continue to operate FAO Schwarz's flagship store in New York City as well as a second store at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas: "We will work tirelessly to preserve the distinctiveness and integrity of the FAO Schwarz stores and brand."

"Keeping the FAO Schwarz brand to stand for what it is, an iconic specialty toy store, is the important thing," for Toys R US, he said.

In the long run, this purchase should improve FAO Schwarz and return the store to its once iconic status. But at the same time, I find it quite upsetting that Toys R Us now owns New York's greatest toy store.

I still remember my first time at FAO Schwarz on Fifth Avenue. After eating at the old Houlihan's (currently the Apple store), I stood in line with my parents, anxiously waiting to pass by the toy soldiers. I remember the enormous clock. And the robotic elevator. The piano. And the massive candy room. In my opinion, it was -- and still is -- one of the most magical stores in the entire world. Hopefully, Toys R Us will make sure that it remains this way! Read More!

Vietnamese. Thanks to Betty.

Betty Ming Liu, a former professor of mine (who is now teaching a Food Writing course at N.Y.U. this summer) recently posted an article on her blog entitled, "How and where to eat Vietnamese."

The last time that I tried Vietnamese food, it was not a pleasant experience. I tried Bun Rieu, which is a noodle soup made of thin rice noodles, topped with crab and shrimp paste, served in a tomato-based broth and garnished with bean sprouts, prawn paste, herb leaves, water spinach, and chunks of tomato. Sounds delicious, right? Well, I spent the next few hours hugging a toilet. Probably just your average case of food poisoning, but boy did that kill my interest in Vietnamese cuisine.

Well, after reading Betty's article, I was determined to give it a second try. Last night, I left my apartment in Chelsea, jumped on the 1 to Franklin Street, and slowly wandered east, until I made it to Thai So’n, at 89 Baxter Street.

With memories of that awful afternoon with my toilet bowl, I decided to follow Betty's trusted advice...



My first dish was Goi Cuon, a classic Vietnamese spring roll. It was a nice way to ease into Vietnamese cuisine since it was simply greens and shrimp which were then tightly wrapped in a translucent rice noodle. And it was delicious. Simple, refreshing, and the shrimp were cooked to perfection. Betty recommended both the peanut sauce and the fish sauce for dipping. I chose the former (something about a condiment made of fermented fish extracts grossed me out).

Again, following Betty's instructions on her blog, I ordered a small platter of Tom Chien Bot. Essentially, it is a platter of fried shrimp, served with a sweet-and-sour sauce. They were absolutely delicious, but I found them to be a little too greasy. After I dabbed them on my napkin and wrapped them in a lettuce leaf, I found myself enjoying them much more however.

Next, I decided to be a little adventurous and pick something of my own: Ech Xao Xa Ot. Frogs legs. I had first tried stereotypical French-style frogs legs last summer while I was living in Paris, but had not had any sort of frog since. At Thai So’n, they still tasted like chicken, albeit stringy, but they had a nice zing since they were cooked in a refreshing lemongrass sauce. Really enjoyable!

Unfortunately, my meal ended on a blah note, with So Nuoc Dua, green mussels in a light coconut-curry sauce. Light would not be the right word however. I've always enjoyed the subtle taste of coconut, but in this dish, the coconut overpowered the curry in my opinion. Not so light. Oh well, everything else was delicious.

One thing that I did not try that Betty had recommended was Soda Xi Muoi, which is a drink based on salted, dried plums, that are mashed up and served in a glass with sugar and club soda. Never been a huge fan of plums. But everyone else who joined me for dinner last night thoroughly enjoyed it!

Thanks for the great advice, Betty!



Thai So'n
89 Baxter Street
(between Bayard and Canal Streets)

Phone: (212) 732-2822

Hours: 10:30am–10:30pm.

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Philadelphia: Top 10

About two years ago, Frank Bruni of The New York Times wrote an article titled "The Fertile Territory Beyond Our Own," about a trip outside of the boroughs, to Philadelphia where he dined at one of the City of Brotherly Love's finest restaurants.

While he does conclude by admitting that he has not been fortunate enough to spend a significant amount of time outside of New York in order to experience some of the country's greatest chefs, he begins his piece by saying that, "We New Yorkers like to think we live in the best restaurant city in the country, and I’ve not seen any compelling evidence to date that we don’t."

Over the past three years, I have attempted to shed my Philadelphia heritage by integrating myself into New York City, but one aspect of my birth city that I have always been proud of is its dining scene. While New York is a city that makes it difficult for aspiring chefs and restaurateurs to run their own shows as Bruni says, cities like Philadelphia have made it easy for some of the nation's most talented chefs to break into the business.

And so, after a recent trip back to Philadelphia, I have decided to select my choices for the Top 10 Philadelphia restaurants.



10. Le Bec-Fin
1523 Walnut Street
(215) 567-1000

Nearly four decades after famed French chef Georges Perrier opened his landmark Philadelphia restaurant, Le Bec-Fin, it remains atop the city's culinary ladder, as not only one of the greatest restaurants in the United States, but also as Philadelphia's sole representative in both the Michelin Guide and the Mobil Travel Guide.

That being said, I have never been a huge fan.

While the food is amazing, Le Bec-Fin has lost (its coveted fifth star in favor of a more relaxed atmosphere and...) its ability to thrill and surprise me. The last time that I went to Le Bec-Fin, I tried the spring 3-course prix-fixe meal for $35 per person. A braised red beet salad with goat cheese, candied walnuts and a citrus vinaigrette for an appetizer; organize white feathered chicken, with roasted cauliflower, brussel sprouts, lamb bacon, topped with a sherry vinegar sauce for dinner; and for dessert, Gâteau Le Bec-Fin , featuring layers of chocolate genoise soaked in rum and chocolate mousse, topped with a stunning display of chocolate fans.

Like I said, the food was fantastic, but there were no sparks. It was just another meal, and just another Philadelphia restaurant. That being said, it is Philadelphia's only Mobil Five Star Restaurant.

9. Gnocchi
613 East Passyunk Ave
(215) 592-8300

I first went to Gnocchi on Passyunk Avenue (at South Street) about five years with my parents, and I've loved it ever since. Appetizers range between $5 and $8, with salads costing $6. My personal favorite: the Gnocchi House Salad with roasted peppers, portabello mushrooms and romaine lettuce in an olive oil and balsamic vinaigrette. Then there are the homemade pastas which range between $11 and $16. At Gnocchi, I tend to be a person of habit, and will always stick to the classics: Tomato Basil Gnocchi classic with homemade potato gnocchi served in aurora sauce ($11). I admit the service is occasionally not the best, but I still think that this is one of the best BYOBs in the City of Brotherly Love.

8. Sang Kee Peking Duck House
238 North 9th Street
(215) 922-3930

First of all, I'm talking about the one in Chinatown. And not the one in Wynnewood. Yes, I know that parking is impossible, but it is totally worth it.

If you are looking for perfect Peking Duck, then look no further than 9th Street (between Spring and Winters Streets). What else? I always start out with a bowl of their exceptional won ton soup. I was last at Sang Kee in the December, and with the chill in the air, I started out with the house tea. It was hot, delicious, made from healthy ingredients; just the thing my immune system was looking for. Another stand out item at Sang Kee is their General Tso's Shrimp with brown rice. No matter what you order, the dishes are always flavored impeccably.

The atmosphere is fantastic at Sang Kee, constantly bustling. I admit that it is not the place for a quiet, romantic date, but if you are looking for something fun and vibrant with damn good, Chinese food, I'd highly recommend Sang Kee.

7. Melograno
2012 Sansom Street
(215) 875-8116

When my friends recently gave me a call and asked me to join them at Melograno ON SANSOM STREET, I was quite confused. What had happened to the quaint Italian BYOB on Spruce Street. Yes, it was tiny, and yes, the average wait for a table was about an hour long, but the food was simply amazing.

Needless to say, I was pleased that little had changed. It's still Italian. It's still BYOB. And it's still quaint, with a neighborhood-gem sort of charm, despite the fact that the dining room at its new location is significantly larger. Most importantly, it still offers amazing, flavorful, and generally inexpensive food.

Classics: arugula and prosciutto salad with a light dash of lemon dressing, or cod lightly coated in truffle oil. Required to try: any of their papardelle pastas, or tagliatelle with pork, which at $16 is a steal especially based on the size of the dish. My personal favorite: spaghetti carbonara with anchovies in a white truffle sauce, especially if you bring a long a nice bottle of red.

6. Pod
3636 Sansom Street
(215) 387-1803

Pod introduced something to Philadelphia that had only been seen in the culinary meccas of New York and London: the sushi conveyor belt.

That however was quite some time ago, and now that the excitement has worn off, what is left? Fairly consistent and enjoyable Pan-Asian cuisine in a retro environment.

Again, I'm a creature of habit, so what do I get? Chicken potstickers in mustard aioli ($9) and kobe beef with wasabi, which is cooked tableside on steaming Japanese river rocks ($15), both for appetizers. I generally share the Pod Caesar (shredded romaine, wonton crisps, sesame seeds, and ginger-infused caesar salad dressing - $10) with those dining with me. And for an entree, one of the following: wasabi crusted Filet Mignon with mashed potatoes covered in a black soy truffle oil ($29) or glazed Chilean sea bass ($28).

And my favorite dessert in Philadelphia: Chocolate, Chocolate, Chocolate ($11) which includes three chocolate desserts in a bento box. A chocolate shochu shooter. Chocolate bread pudding with crumbled English toffee. A chocolate caramel tart with salted cocoa crumble.

5. Tacconelli's Pizzeria
2604 East Somerset Street
(215) 425-4983

In 1918, a genius moved to Philadelphia form Italy: Giovanni Tacconelli, the creator and original chef at Tacconelli's Pizzeria in the Port Richmond section of Philadelphia.

Open from Wednesday to Sunday, Tacconelli's only makes about 200 pies per evening, and when you call for your reservation, you are required to state how many pies you would like to reserve, in addition to the number of seats. It's BYOB as well, and beer and wine are welcome. The pizzeria is in a very residential neighborhood, and it has a very mom-and-pop atmosphere about it.

Philadelphia magazine has often listed it as the best pizza in Philadelphia, and both Zagat's and Emeril Lagasse have named Tacconelli's one of the best pizzerias in America. And thanks to the pizzeria's genuine brick oven, the thin crust pizza is the best that I have ever had.

My family eats a lot, so we generally order one pie less than there are people. Does that make sense? Five people, four pies; four people, three pies. And trust me, they're all gone by the time we finish. You can order a tomato, regular, white, or margerita pizza, and you can cover it with a variety of toppings. Our usual: a white pie with tomatoes and basil, or regular pie with lots of prosciutto.

Whatever you order though, you'll be happy that you tried Tacconelli's!

4. Morimoto
723 Chestnut Street
(215) 413-9070

Let's be honest, Morimoto in Philadelphia is not the establishment it used to be. It is no longer Stephen Starr's new and trendy hot spot. It isn't his flashiest restaurant anymore either. And the Iron Chef is hardly there anymore now that he has Iron Chef: America and Morimoto in New York. But despite being open for almost eight years, this hot spot still remains Stephen Starr's best restaurant.

Yes, it is quite expensive. Who in their right mind would pay $7 for a cup of miso soup? But the presentation is flawless and the service is impeccable.

Whitefish carpaccio melts in your mouth. Barbecued eel is a revelation. Caviar and white wasabi adorn the best tuna tartare you'll ever nibble. Kobe beef is cooked tableside in a hot stone bowl. Tofu is mixed to order. Even at $120, the Morimoto Omakase is totally worth it! A multi-course tasting menu designed to allow you to experience the essence of Morimoto's cuisine, the Omakase (on the night that I tried it) included five flawless slices of varying fishes, paired with five perfectly matched sauces. And who can forget that citrus jalapeno squirt. Or the spicy sashimi carpaccio with anchovy sauce. Nothing is nullified, each flavor accentuates the other creating a depth that shows the sheer knowledge and genius of Chef Morimoto.

3. Rouge
205 South 18th Street
(215) 732-6622

I hate to say this, but for the most part Neil Stein is past his prime. The Fish Market closed ages ago. He was forced to sell the Striped Bass to Stephen Starr who turned it into Butcher & Singer. Bleu is gone. So is Avenue B. His once mighty empire has dwindled down into a single restaurant: Rouge.

But what a restaurant.

It's tiny. But comfortable. Laid back. But chic. And while I absolutely love mostly everything on the menu, there is one thing that keeps me coming back for me: the Rouge Burger.

One bite and you are immediately in beefy heaven. The patty is moist and flavorful. The brioche bun is flaky and sweet. The cheese and caramelized onions are outstanding as well, but overshadowed by the almighty beef. The burger was so satisfying that I skipped on the ketchup, lettuce, and tomato. And the Pommes Frites that come along with it are divine. Every frite from top to bottom in the conical holder was crisp and salted nicely. And all of this for $15. And let's not forget that in July 2005, Alan Richman of GQ ranked the Rouge Burger #4 on his list of “The 20 Hamburgers You Must Eat Before You Die.” (And p.s. the Kobe Sliders at the neighboring Barclay Prime claim the #5 spot.)

While Neil Stein's future may still be in question, I pray that Rouge will never die.

2. Marigold Kitchen
501 South 45th Street
(215) 222-6751

Brunch. You must go for brunch. Especially in May 2009 after Bon Appétit named Marigold Kitchen one of the best places to take mom for a Mother's Day. Number 3 to be exact. According to Andrew Knowlton of Bon Appétit:

Enjoying southern dishes (like a collard green and mushroom frittata; a Surry sausage and mushroom crepe; and stone-ground grits) in a converted Victorian home, you'd think you were somewhere in Dixie. But no: It's just Sunday at this lovely University City BYOB.

It truly is one of the best restaurants in Philadelphia, nestled in quiet corner on a charming block, the restaurant feels more like a chic grandmother's home. And I mean that in the best way possible. It's comfortable and cozy.

The best bet is the 3-course meal for $30. Here's what I had last time I was there: mussels sauteed in herb butter for the first course. Pork tender loin with asparagus and a warm bacon vinaigrette came next. And finally the Apple Spice Cake with caramel sauce and buttermilk ice cream. Delicious.

1. Vetri
1312 Spruce Street
(215) 261-7069

And now, for my top choice: Vetri.

I had never been to Vetri before, but had been hearing about it for quite a while. After all, it opened in 1998. And after Frank Bruni reviewed both Osteria and Vetri by Marc Vetri, I knew that I had to try it.

I arrived at Vetri one evening, and as the hostess took me to my seat, I was taken through the narrow hallways of a townhouse that could have easily been mistaken as someone's home. It's tiny, 35 seats only. And the cuisine, divine Italian. As Bruni said, "Vetri ranks with the very best Italian restaurants in New York."

What did I have? First: spinach gnocchi with shaved ricotta and brown butter, which was simply fantastic. And with each bite, another piece of gnocchi simply melted in my mouth. Next: guinea hen breast stuffed with prosciutto served with mushrooms. I had never had guinea hen or guinea fowl before, so this was a first. But it was The combination of flavors between the guinea hen and the prosciutto provided me with the contrasting but equally delicious flavors, and with the mushroom sauce on top provided me with a creamy alternative.

Outstanding.

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Hot Children in the City

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” said one recent post by $eeking Generou$. “I'm a young professional, recently laid-off, and really would love to keep living in Manhattan. I am looking for ONE, very very very discreet man who’s attracted to the notion of taking care of a guy from an economic standpoint.”

This is just one of the gay personals on Craigslist that recently turned up during a simple search on the Manhattan “men seeking men” personals section on Craigslist last week. It was one of over 300 posts advertising sex-for-money, despite reaching an agreement with 40 state attorney generals in Nov. 2008 which stated that Craigslist would closely monitor the erotic services available online.

“While violent crime is exceedingly rare on Craigslist, with only a handful of cases known out of billions of face-to-face human interactions facilitated through the site, sadly, there is a risk whenever meeting a stranger for the first time,” said Craigslist co-founder Jim Buckmaster, who also condemned illegal use of the site.

However, the risks are still there. On March 24, 2009, radio journalist George Weber was found dead in his Brooklyn apartment, his ankles bound with duct tape and his body stabbed 50 times. Two days later, a 16-year-old boy who had agreed to have a sex romp with Weber in exchange for money, confessed to his murder.

But Weber’s murder did not stop countless men from posting their ads on Craigslist, including the man who posted $eeking Generou$: Gavin Davenport, 26, who asked to use an alias for privacy issues.

On the outside, Davenport appears to be your typical businessman. He is dressed from top to bottom in Ralph Lauren as he saunters into his $3,000 per month apartment, in one of the Chelsea’s trendiest buildings. He just got home and needs some relaxation after a job interview, so he slips off his Gucci loafers and plops down on the couch. After responding to a few messages on his iPhone, he turns his attention to his brand new 50-inch plasma TV.

“Initially I answered an ad on Craigslist for male escorts and masseurs,” said Davenport. “I met with a guy named Max, who became my pimp, and he gave me a beeper and told me that I was too accept $300 in cash; I would take $115 and he would take $85.”

“My first client rejected me but then they started liking me, and I found a few regulars,” added Davenport. “I remember one guy who had this thing about armpit hair. It was crucial that I kept my arms up, hands behind head, so that he could see my armpit hair while he blew me.”

Davenport claims that he felt uncomfortable at first, but since he enjoyed sex and making money, he soon eased into his role as a male prostitute.

“No, I am not surprised that men have turned to prostitution as a means of replacing lost income,” said Simon Bowmaker, a professor at N.Y.U.’s Stern School of Business, who’s book “Economics Uncut” features a chapter on the economics of prostitution. “Of course, one can argue that several other factors that need to be taken into account when considering the decision to become a prostitute, but in recent years, there has been evidence of well-educated people entering the prostitution profession and talking openly about their experiences.”

“This perhaps suggests a softening of attitudes towards commercial sex,” added Bowmaker. “For some, then, the decision of men to offer sexual services during a recession is not a shocking one.”

Despite his Ivy League background, Davenport said he felt no shame in turning to prostitution to help him make it through the recession. While he admits disliking some of his clients, he said for the most part, he found their company intellectually stimulating.

“I’ve had the opportunity to meet many different men, in many different fields,” he said. “Bankers, lawyers, doctors, men in the arts.”

P.R. was one of Davenport’s early clients. (Like other clients who were interviewed, he would not allow his full names to be published, but agreed to use his initials.) He is married and has three children, who live in Fairfield, Conn. Without fail, he is home every weekend to see them, but from Monday to Thursday, he lives in his apartment near his office in the Financial District, where he works as a lawyer. And when he is in New York, he sees Davenport anywhere from two to four times a week, sometimes paying $300 for an hour or $1,500 for an overnight visit.

“My wife knows about my lifestyle, but a divorce is out of the question for the sake of our children,” he said. “She and I live in a don’t ask, don’t tell world.

“And frankly, I am not ashamed of the fact that I hire a prostitute to service my needs,” he added. “I pay for my wife, and she is just as much as prostitute as Gavin.

“Year after year, she only continues to put on this charade everyday because she knows that she will be taken care of if she does,” said P.R. “Who pays for her big house? Her new Mercedes? Her country club membership? Her Barney’s charge card? I do. A prostitute, just as much as Gavin.”

Davenport is just one of the city’s male prostitutes. Out of seven men interviewed, five of them were Caucasian, one was Hispanic, and one was African-American. Two identified themselves as homosexuals, while five identified them as heterosexuals. Only one man – Davenport, a homosexual – identified himself as strictly interested in male sexual partners. While the remaining six said they would involve themselves with the highest bidder, either men or women. All seven were in perfect physical shape. All seven were well dressed. Five of them were under 28 years old, while the remaining two were under 35. And six of them agreed that they had not regrets.

Only one of the seven men regretted his decision.

Ricardo Alvarez, 31, has been a full-time erotic massage and escort for the past 10 months, and receives almost 70 percent of his clients from his ads on Craigslist. Alvarez said that he first started advertising on Craigslist after his 17-year-old sister moved in with him while she was attending a summer program for high school students at N.Y.U.

“I thought it would be okay because I was working and making decent money,” he said. “But I didn’t have enough, and I could never let me sister go hungry.”

Initially, Alvarez started by allowing gay men to perform oral sex on him in return for cash. But as he became accustomed to having extra cash, he started offering more and more of his body, and even began offering erotic massages and full-scale escort services. Despite his frequent sexual encounters with other men, he still identifies himself as a heterosexual.

Alvarez’s need to refer to himself as straight is not unusual, according to Michael Kimmel, a leading researcher and writer on men and masculinity in the world today.

“There is a dramatic difference between male and female prostitution," said Kimmel. “Females protect their femininity by not allowing their customers to kiss them, while males will be the inserter, and not the inserted in order to protect their masculinity. What I am trying to say, is the male prostitutes will do the fucking.”

“For years, young male hustlers, who have been having sex with older gay men, identified themselves as heterosexual and would have wives or girlfriends,” added Kimmel. “Because in their eyes, they were in charge, they had not lost their masculinity.”

While Alvarez admitted that he has started performing oral sex in order to make more money, he said that he does not intend “to bottom” during anal sex, despite the fact that one man offered him $800 to give a try.

“My ass is off limits,” said Alvarez. “I’ve never let a guy have it, and I still bring in anywhere from $1,500 to $2,500 per week.”

Despite his steady income, his time as a prostitute has not always been a happy one.

“Weber wasn’t the only man who liked kinky violence, some guys like to get rough, and sometimes they take their anger and frustration out on you,” said Alvarez. “I’ve never been beaten up, but I have needed a few stitches.”

In Feb. 2008, a client told Alvarez that he enjoyed biting. Initially Alvarez thought nothing of it since quite a few of his clients enjoyed using their teeth. He said his client started biting harder, and ended up biting Alvarez’s nipple so hard that he needed to go to the emergency room.

“I was in so much pain and I was bleeding, but I kept going,” he said as he lifted his shirt to reveal the scars. “But I desperately needed the money.”

Alvarez never reported the violence. He said he was afraid that the police would ask too many questions. But despite the fact that prostitution is illegal in New York, it appears that little is being done to prevent its spread.

The chief police spokesman, Paul J. Browne, said that in 2008, there were 1,650 female and 233 male prostitution arrests citywide. Browne also confirmed that the NYPD shut down its Vice Squad operations on Craigslist because a new commanding officer of the squad thought it was “a waste of resources,” despite being highly successful in targeting sex-for-money ads, which led to arrests throughout New York City.

Davenport and Alvarez have eluded the police so far, but both agree that the fear of arrest and exposure is constantly lurking in the back of their minds.

“Getting arrested scares me,” said Davenport. “But I’m terrified that one day my friends and family will figure out what I’ve been doing.

“If they ever learned what I’ve been doing, I honestly don’t know what I would do,” he added.
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Top Chef, Low Cost (pt. 2)

Way back in February, I posted an article that I wrote about "Halfsteak": Tom Colicchio's recession version of his trendy steakhouse, Craftsteak. Well, the piece has been revised over and over again thanks to my professor Betty, and I am now posting the final piece which I am quite proud of. Enjoy!


HALFSTEAK: Half the Price, Half as Filling

At last, I made it to Craftsteak, one of the trendiest steakhouses in Manhattan. Normally my roommate and I would never consider a restaurant as expensive as this one, but tonight was different. We were here for “Halfsteak,” the scaled-down, recession version of celebrity chef Tom Colicchio’s Chelsea restaurant.

And unfortunately, “Halfsteak” left us half-full.

Last month, Colicchio turned his popular and pricey restaurant into a casual dining experience with a cute name. It’s cute in size too, seating only 44 with 12 additional spots at the bar. The most expensive entrée on the menu is the $15, 6-ounce New York strip steak. It’s cute too. Cute – and way too little.

You can get the “Halfstreak” treatment each Wednesday, in the front section of this two-star eatery at 10th Avenue and 15th Street, while the high ceilinged main dining room with enormous windows overlooking the West Side Highway is still full price. On the particular night that I was there, “Halfsteak” was jammed while the big room was well, slightly more than half full.

That should be no surprise, given the economy. In fact, the city’s top restaurants are all in a panic. It’s gotten so bad that New York magazine’s “Grub Street” dining blog has gained attention with a game they play called “Two for Eight” – calling the most exclusive restaurants at 4 p.m. to see which ones can squeeze in a last-minute reservation. Guess what – almost all of them can.

With “Halfsteak,” Colicchio joins a host of other celebrated chef s who are going discount. First, it was Jean-Georges Vongerichten; six of his Manhattan restaurants now have both a $24 three-course lunch menu and a $35 three-course dinner. Then came Mario Batali, offering a “bargain” nine-course tasting menu at $125 a head (formerly $175.) Next, Colicchio stepped in – Craft, his flagship, cut its $185-a-head, eight-course dinner to $150, and added a Friday night, $10-a-plate tapas menu.

And as of last month, there was “Halfsteak.” Like the regular menu, Chef de Cuisine Shane McBride stays close to his Southern roots with everything from smoked chicken wings in a white BBQ sauce ($6.50), to chicken fried cod with hash browns ($9.50), and a brisket sandwich topped with sauerkraut and provolone ($11.50). Appetizers and salads all cost between $6.50 and $9.50, while sandwiches and entrées costing $11.50 to $13.50. While each dish was beautifully presented, I felt like I had just sat down for a meal with the Keebler elves.

Now what about that halfsteak? I had the same cut as Craftsteak’s $50,12-ounce high quality, dry-aged strip of perfection. But at half the size, it was merely a high-class McDonald’s Kids Meal – and even with the signature hand-cut fries thrown in I started drooling the leftovers at the table next to mine.

But there was still the hope of filling up over dessert. At $4 apiece, the red velvet cupcakes and an ice cream sandwich of the day are a third of the cost of a normal Craftsteak dessert, but they resemble the sweets my niece adorns her doll tea party with.

The half-size, half-price concept also extends to cocktails which all cost less than $9, and half-pints of small, artisanal beers which all cost less than $4. But who want to pay $4 for a half-pint of beer when a full pint only costs $7?

While on the outside this appears to be a good deal, it is just another gimmick from the Craft restaurant family. With Colicchio’s restaurants, the quality of the food is never an issue – it is always solid, delicious New American cuisine. The issue with “Halfsteak” is whether or not it is actually worth it. My visit cost around $80 with tax and tip for the two of us, which is not bad for a steakhouse. But the rumbling in my stomach was a clear sign that I would need to pick up a slice of pizza on the way home. Craftsteak on the other hand is more expensive. The price limits customers on a budget from trying a wide variety of food, but at least they leave without a lingering hunger.

In the end, the choice is yours: would you rather a wide variety or full belly? It’s up to you to make the decision (but I would personally recommend hitting up Craftsteak).


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