Photo by Lauren Monaco

Raj Mahal, not to be confused with its neighboring competitors, Raj, Taj, or Taj Mahal, serves traditional Indian food that is reasonably priced. The menu features chicken, lamb, beef, and vegetarian dishes, as well as an assortment of naan and paratha breads. Most dishes range from $7-$12. For those of you fresh under-21ers, beer and wine are forced upon you sans carding (anything to jack up the bill).

The décor is, to euphemize, eclectic. Generic tropical location paintings are plastered to the walls alongside a Michelangelo-esque calendar picture of two angel babies. Christmas lights are strewn along the ceiling, suspending the dining room in a reddish glow (hence the lack of food porn attached to this article).

I’ve ordered a few dishes here, including tandoori chicken ($9.50), chicken sag ($9.95), aloo palak ($7.95), and my favorite, chana sag ($8.50). The tandoori chicken, my baby-step entrance into the saucy world of Indian food, is a bit dry. The sag and palak dishes are all served in a mild spinach sauce and are just moist enough to be sopped up by complimentary basmati rice or breads. The chick peas, whose soft insides absorb the sag in which they are cooked, are tender and filling.

Though the food is tasty, it takes a backseat to the epic rendition of the happy birthday song. I hate to ruin the surprise for any of you who dare to publicly lose your dignity by hosting a party here, but here’s the line-up (spoilers contained. Read at your own risk.): The lights are dimmed, and a blaringly loud, upbeat remix of happy birthday is blasted. Multi-colored strobe lights are employed, causing nausea, epilepsy, and palpitations. All waiters, including my favorite, whose name is either Ibrahim or Brian depending on the day, emerge from the shared kitchen and clap around the table. A dessert of spongy fried bananas and cardamom ice cream, topped with a lit sparkler, is brought to the table and placed before the designated birthday boy or girl. Everyone in the restaurant stares at your table, possibly enthused, but most definitely appalled, and the song takes an interesting turn from techno happy birthday to a happy birthday-Old MacDonald Had a Farm-remix (complete with ee-eye-ee-eye-oh’s).

So for those of you who are celebrating a December birthday, or who have no upcoming birthdays but need a good laugh to salvage sanity during these tough times we call finals, I’d strongly recommend Raj Mahal. If you’re bringing friends, don’t tell them what they’re in for. It’s always better to witness the fear/excitement/bewilderment in friends’ eyes the first time they attend a Raj Mahal birthday.

When I first walked into Ruby’s, I wasn’t sure if I had accidentally walked into someone’s kitchen. The waitress was selecting songs from her laptop and talking to a customer. They only have room for about a dozen patrons, and the kitchen is small and visible in the back. Nevertheless, I often like small restaurants because the customer tends to get personal service as well as a warm environment. Ruby’s succeeds in both of these tests.

The menu is basic; they offer pasta, sandwiches, and salads. The last two times I visited Ruby’s I ordered the Bronte Burger ($10). The juicy burgers come on baguettes with a fresh side salad made of mixed greens. Their burgers are above average, but the sweet chili sauce is what really makes me keep ordering them. It’s a slightly spicy, but mostly sweet glaze added to the burgers. If you are looking for an adventure, Ruby’s has the Whalays Burger (with Tomato, lettuce, beet, pineapple, a fried egg and ketchup), which I would presume is an Australian invention. I get the feeling that food becomes Australian when you add random ingredients such pineapples, eggs, or a seemingly ill-fitting sauce to a simple burger, but Ruby’s pulls it off. If burgers aren’t your thing, I have also tried their paninis. The Posh BLT ($9) is particularly tasty. Just like the classic BLT you are used to, but substitute the bacon for prosciutto and add slices avocado.

Additionally, Ruby’s might be good for an exam week lunch if you like caffeinated drinks. They serve the Italian Segafredo Espresso ($2). However, be careful how high you make your bill, Ruby’s only accepts cash.

Ruby’s Café
219 Mulberry St.
9am-10pm

Photo by Max Zorick

• Pomme de Terre: Beef Wellington-Three courses ($29)
• Dean and DeLuca: split a cooked Turkey or Ham with friends. ($68-90)
• Ellen’s Stardust Diner: Turkey-4-courses. ($30)
• Amy Ruth’s: Honey-glazed ham-Three courses. ($27).
• Cucina & Co.: Individual Entrees. (around $20)
• Red Bamboo: Vegan. ($20)

Any restaurant that can upstage arrogant celebrity chef Bobby Flay is worthy of praise. I stopped by Caracas tonight to sample the arepa that took the man down on his newest Food Network show, Throwdown with Bobby Flay. There’s usually a throng of people waiting outside the red vestibule at the 7th St. eatery. Lucky for me, 9:15 pm on a Sunday night is a pretty dead time to dine out. Other than me, the cooks, and the iconic Virgin María protruding from the wall, Caracas To-Go was empty. Its sister restaurant, Caracas Arepa Bar, is located next door and accommodates diners who want to stay a while and enjoy table service.

I ordered the arepa de pabellón ($6.75), which is a fried cornmeal pouch stuffed with shredded beef, black beans, sweet plantains, and cotija cheese. The food was delivered to me immediately (I really was the only one there). The arepa appears small but is stuffed to the brim and leaves you in a similar state. The beef was tender, the plantains subtly sweet, and the cheese salty and tangy. I’ve had the arepa de pollo ($5.75) in the past and would definitely suggest the pabellón instead. Its various flavors and textures add depth to the meal yet work harmoniously.

Photo by Allix Geneslaw

As 40-degree days start to become 20-degree days, coffee starts to serve a second purpose. Not only does coffee keep us college students awake, but cafés also become places to drink something warm and sit somewhere warm.

The obvious crucial element to a café is its coffee. I bought a cappuccino at Joe the Art of Coffee for the first time in a while; I had forgotten how delicious their coffee is. Joe started to gain its credibility a little over year ago when magazines and newspapers began to praise it as the best. Many places to get good coffee nearby (Gimme! Coffee, Oren’s, etc.) don’t offer a place to get out of the winter weather. Joe, on the other hand, has two small locations near NYU buildings (13th Street between 5th and University; and Waverly just west of 6th Ave) with cramped, but warm, indoor seating. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t see a lot of NYU students with Joe Coffee; yet every time I stop by for a cup, the café is always packed.

In my opinion, the best part of Joe is that they actually serve their coffee in real mugs (if ordered to stay), which is hard to find these days. It keeps the coffee warmer and avoids unnecessary waste. Also, if you are someone that cares more about what your food looks like then what it tastes like, you might be pleasantly surprised. All the baristas add some art to their lattes, cappuccino, etc. with a heart or flower shaped into the foam.

Joe feels like an authentic coffee place that cares about what it does best—brew coffee.

Joe the Art of Coffee
141 Waverly Place
-And-
9 East 13th Street
Monday-Friday 7am-8pm
Saturday, Sunday 8am-8pm

Photos by Max Zorick

Momofuku Bakery and Milk Bar

207 2nd Avenue
Sun – Wed 8 am – 12 am
Thurs – Sat 8 am – 2 am

Photo from Serious Eats

$15 gets you brunch and never-ending mimosas or bloody marys. The menu offers traditional breakfast options, like eggs benedict and omelets, as well as more substantial dishes like burgers and steak sandwiches. I ordered two eggs over medium and a mimosa as my productivity destroyer, vowing that I’d just have one so that I could work on my paper. But we all know how that goes.

Though the icy-eyed Australian waiter frightened me at first with his biting sarcasm and reluctance to answer questions about the menu, I soon took a liking to him as my glass remained in a perpetual state of runneth over. My one-drink quota was filled and exceeded in no time, leaving my expectations for getting work done that afternoon quite low (nonexistent).

Unfortunately, the portions weren’t the gracious, alcohol-sopping sponges I needed them to be. The eggs and home fries were tasty, both warm and fried to a golden hue at the edges, but I was still hungry after I finished eating. I watched over my coworkers’ plates like a zealous child and even made an unsuccessful attempt at swiping a lone potato from the slowest eater’s dish. The focus is clearly directed at getting your money’s worth of champagne-spiked orange juice. The space is also fairly limited with only a handful of tables which can accommodate large groups, so be prepared to wait an hour even if you’ve been promised seats in 30 minutes.

Photo courtesy of The New York Times