Costas

30 W 35th St. New York, NY 10001 • (646) 564-3545 costasnyc.com
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I have only gotten take out from here and I can’t say I recommend doing that, because arepas do not travel well, turning into a soggy, sloppy hockey puck of meat.

But beyond the mess, the flavors didn’t make up for it either. The hot sauce wasn’t hot. I could barely tell the difference between the short rib and the pork. And if they put any of the other things I asked for on it like onions or mushrooms, I honestly couldn’t say, because I was more focused on trying not looking like Jaba the Hutt horking down a frog as I gobbled them down in a meeting.

And while I’m never above messy food, it definitely wasn’t worth the damage it did to my reputation at the office, as everyone now refers to me as “Wilber.”

2 teeth

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La Bourgogne

Alvear Palace Hotel, Ayacucho 2023, C1112AAK CABA, Argentina • +54 11 4805-3857 • www.alvearpalace.com

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The Alvear hotel is an icon of Argentina, located at the end of one of the ritziest streets in the city, overlooking the cemetery where Evita is buried (I guess the truth is she did eventually leave them). Which is nowhere near as macabre as that sounds. In fact, they somehow mange to turn it into a selling point.

It’s like what The Drake is to Chicago or The Waldorf Astoria is to New York. Historic, grand and stupendous. So, it would only make sense that the restaurant within need live up to the reputation surrounding it. And live it did, with a veritable feast of greatness ranging across three appetizers, two entrees and three desserts. Oh, but this was not a tasting menu. This is actually how much we ordered to split just between two people. Not to mention two bottles of wine and a finale consisting of two glasses of their finest, most expensive 70-year-old port. It was truly a meal for the ages.

But surprisingly, the most remarkable thing about this meal was not the food, albeit excellent. It was the price in US dollars. Are you sitting down? Fifty. No, not fifty thousand. Fifty dollars a head. And this is with seared foie gras, filet mignon and the works. I mean, holy favorable exchange rates Batman! Ya know, I hate to use a cliché here, but at prices like these, you really can’t afford not to eat here. So book your ticket and your reservation at the same time and bon appe-gluttony!

5 teeth

Sushi Samba

87 7th Ave S. New York, NY 10014 • (212) 691-7885 • sushisamba.com

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I hadn’t been to this place in a while, but I used to go a lot back in the day and I really loved it for its inventive blend of Latin meets Japanese. I know, isn’t the whole fusion thing already over? And it is, but this place was born back in the heart of the fusion-explosion, when fusion dishes weren’t on every menu from Boston to Bangkok. In those days (Christ, I sound like my grandfather talking about the days when you could buy a cart full of groceries for under five bucks) you had to go to a fusion restaurant if you wanted to experience a unique blend of cultural tastes.

And unique it was, with things like foie gras atop pieces of tuna sushi, garnished with flakes of gold (pictured), live mini crabs that crawled across your plate, until you ate them, of course. And ceviches that knocked your taste buds on their collective asses. But that was then. Unfortunately, the last time I went, things had slid a little, especially in comparative context when you take into account that fusion is now a given and the game has been raised everywhere else. But that was a bit ago, so perhaps they got their groove back. If they did, it’s well worth the visit. Hell, if they did, someone please tell me ASAP, because I would head back in an instant. After all, once upon a time they were the ones who gave a much needed shot in the arm to the sushi norm.

3 teeth

Yuca

501 Lincoln Rd • Miami Beach, FL 33139 • (305) 532-9822 • yuca.com

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Yuca is Yucko. And I find it egregious that a New York Magazine article actually recommend this tourist trap, deeming it great for people watching, or as I would more accurately describe it, rubber-necking, because it’s like a parade of fashion train wrecks marching by. So, for a minute let’s just indulge the entertainment value of the passersby and maybe that gets you to one knife, but once the novelty of watching cows strut past in fishnets and neon thongs you eventually turn your attention to the plate, and that’s when the seven car pile up really gets going.

For example, the habanero guacamole was overly pureed and under spicy, served with unsweetened plantain chips that tasted like balsa wood. Such a simple dish, yet they managed to fuck it up three times over.

Another simple dish, and tapas favorite, turned to trash were the bacon wrapped dates. So dry, the Sahara is suing for copyright infringement. If you want to try a nailed version of the same, go to Boqueria in New York.

Even the empanadas were emperfect. Once again, too dry and lacking any sort of complexity of flavor. In fact, the only thing we had that night worth chewing was the plantain crusted mahi mahi served with sweet plantain mashed potatoes and a vegetable medley. Yet again the fish was dry, but the other flavors kept it interesting enough to actually eat.

Then, once again it was back to shitsville as the chocolate tres leche with homemade chocolate ice cream hit the table. It was so bad we left more than half of it stranded on the plate. And the other half I wish I could’ve given to a homeless person on the way back to the hotel, but that would’ve been too cruel.

1 tooth