Five days back in NYC for a whirlwind visit with friends. Almost none of my old friends till live in the city, having moved to either close or distant places, ranging from Yonkers to Sicily. I think just over half of the people I saw this week made the effort to come into town to spend a meal with me. And thank you, once again, to those of you who picked up the tab – it was much appreciated in this three week jaunt that’s involving just a few too many restaurant meals.

I’m not going to do real reviews here – just a sentence or so about each place I ate, and single out one dish that I thought stood out.

The huge okra, cooked tender, no sliminess, served chilled and bathed in a moderately spicy chili oil as a salad at Szechuan Mountain House, 23 St. Marks Place, East Village. Based on what else I ate and saw people eating, this is THE place in Manhattan to be going if you like Szechuan food. You’d think, given its location, it’d be a dive, but it’s elegant, exquisite, and the food is ridiculously good.

When I lived in the East Village, now going on twenty years ago (time flies, thank you for accompanying me on this journey!), I was a regular at the sake bar and soba noodle counter at Ise, 63 Cooper Square. The ten zaru soba, chilled light buckwheat noodles, dipping sauce, extra grated radish, and two tempura prawns was always my favorite, and it’s as good as it ever was. Unfortunately, you have little time left to get there, as the owner, now 81 years old, is retiring back to Japan later this month, and the place is closing up.

I told you there would be more clams on this trip, and the spicy stir-fry of clams at Atlas Kitchen, 258 W. 109th Street, Morningside Heights, do not disappoint. Spicy, cooked perfectly, not much more to say other than get up there and try them, or one of the other delicious dishes on offer. I didn’t often head this far uptown back in my NYC days, but my friend Raj had students performing in a recital at Columbia shortly after lunch and it was a convenient, and well worth the trip, spot.

Supposedly the “it” bistro of the moment, Libertine, 684 Greenwich Street, West Village, didn’t seem to be exactly overflowing with people. It was busy, mind you, but never full, despite being “the hardest reservation to get in New York” according to more than one person who mentioned it. My friend John, who booked us in for a delightful eve, apparently nearly hovered over his keyboard waiting for a table to open. My fave dish of the evening, the crispy fried sweetbreads in a butter sauce with white asparagus and sorrel leaves.

My friend Michael, sake guru to the stars and the little people alike, suggested lunch at what I guess was the first Japanese restaurant ever opened in New York City (or maybe just the oldest one still extant?), Nippon, 155 E. 52nd Street, right near to Grand Central Station. While I enjoyed another ten zaru soba, and he a bento box, the star on the table was this eel futomaki.

Probably my longest time friends in the New York area, and former business partners, Ray and Janet, came in from the neighboring state to the west for dinner at Vestry, in the Dominick Hotel, 246 Spring Street, in SoHo. Focused on seafood, the dishes are beautifully presented and packed with flavor, and hotel restaurant or not, you should check it out. This gorgeous soft shell crab on a frisee salad with a cilantro sauce is something I could happily eat again and again.

If you love soup dumplings, how could you not love a place whose sole reason for existing is a dozen varieties of them? If you don’t love soup dumplings, please just quietly retire to a corner over there and not a word out of you, thank you very much. Steam, 470 6th Ave, West Village, is the place to wander into and indulge in these delicately made flavor bombs. Personal favorite, the chicken and ginseng ones. My friend Steve, who came in from some northern town, and from whom I used to buy excellent Italian wines, didn’t disagree.

I don’t really get the claim that Dame, 87 MacDougal Street, West Village, is a restaurant serving English pub food. Sure they have fish and chips on the menu, but nothing else that friend Kym and I had over a multicourse extravaganza screamed out English pub food. The star of the evening for me were the broiled oysters glazed with a chartreuse infused hollandaise sauce. Plus, a white wine from Banyuls, France – I’m not sure I even knew there was such a thing, at least not with the appellation. Does any of that sound like an English pub? Oh, and shout out of thanks to chef Michael Ruhlman for the recommendation!

My friend Kerin gets two accolades in this round since we appetizer hopped. We started off at the trendy, busy (we need the table back in an hour – okay, we were late because Kerin’s train got stuck) Claud, 90 E. 10th Street, East Village. Nice little wine selection and not the usual suspects – Luis Seabra’s Xisto Ilimitado by the glass! Yum food all around, but the scallop crudo with daikon radish and a shiso broth was something worth diving into. Also the bread!

I’m going to have to say our second stop faltered a bit. It wasn’t bad, but I remember Hearth, 403 E. 12th Street, East Village, being… better. The original partners have split since I lived in the ‘hood, one of them going to open a wine bar (see below), the other having “gotten religion” in the sense of all sorts of rules about what kind of fats and cooking processes and places ingredients can come from. Personally, I think the food has suffered – it’s still reasonably good, but I probably wouldn’t go back. The “variety meat” burger was overcooked and dry. And who wants a burger without a bun – are we avoiding gluten or something?

In various surveys that have apparently been performed, likely without any real controls on them, several places seem to repeatedly get to the top of the “best fried chicken in New York City” lists. One that regularly appears, and often in first place, is Bobwhite Counter, 94 Av. C, East Village. It was… good fried chicken. But if that’s the best NYC can do… calling all really good fried chicken chefs, there’s a market for you here. Plus, no one who says they’re from the south offers “unsweetened” ice tea. It’s “unsweet”, and you know it.

Although the oysters are sublime at Cull & Pistol, in the Chelsea Market, the addictive thing on the table for me was the bowl of lightly charred shishito peppers tossed with salt and fish sauce. Fish sauce?! Hoodathunkit? On the other hand, the less said about the cold lobster roll, the better. Should have gone with my first impulse for the hot lobster roll.

And, an evening out with the inimitable Marc and Sookie, long time friends, and among the few who’ve made the trip down to visit me in Buenos Aires. We settled on Vietnamese food at East Village dive Madame Vo, 212 E. 10th Street, where we dug into an array of rolls, crepes, and braised things. Tough to pick between the fried prawn spring-rolls and the braised pork summer rolls. Oh, just get both.

And finishing off my last night in NYC (I’ll be back for the afternoon/early evening on Thursday before heading home), with a solo, late night visit to Terroir, 24 Harrison Street, Tribeca. This wine bar is the craziest, most fun wine bar I’ve been to in years, and with some amazing wines available by glass and bottle. I swiftly ended up with a trio of wines to pair alongside a trio of dishes.

The winner was this stunning beet salad with an herb yogurt and pistachio puree. I could have eaten another whole salad (but went for crab croquettes and a half dozen oysters).

Currently coming to you from a one day stopover in New Haven, CT, then on to Boston. I’m sure you’ll hear from me soon.