Watch Me on 'Kitchen Nightmares' Tonight

It's been roughly nine months since I got a sweet F-bomb out of Gordon Ramsay over the name of my blog, "That would put a f***ing glass eye to sleep!"

Three girls and I had dinner at Mojito in Brooklyn, one of Ramsay's fixer-uppers on "Kitchen Nightmares," and tonight's the night it all goes down live on Fox.

Tune in at 9 p.m. ET/8C. It scares me to tell you to watch it, without having seen it myself, but it's sure to give you a good laugh. Let me know what you think, and if you've just recently discovered my blog, click here for the colorful write-up of that eventful evening.

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10 Things You Didn't Know About Julia Child

Unless you read her book, of course.

I finished reading "My Life in France" two days ago and the movie "Julie & Julia" just ended on my DVR. I wanted to know Julia Child through her own words first so I could test the movie against them (or the words she wrote with her beloved husband Paul Child's grand-nephew Alex Prud'homme).

"My Life in France" was a delightful read. It made me nostalgic for my three adolescent years growing up in Paris while it also inspired me to take cooking classes. I don't know if I'm cut out for Le Cordon Bleu, but an introductory course somewhere might do. If you're at all interested in food or cooking I highly advise reading it from cover to cover. I can't wait to buy "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" (Volumes I and II) and "From Julia Child's Kitchen" (a book Julia calls her "favorite"). I'm still uninterested, however, in reading the blog-turned-book "Julie & Julia" written by Julie Powell. I liked Powell's husband in the movie way more than I liked Powell (and I adore Amy Adams).

I decided to share a few items that I found fascinating from Julia's tale. Here is a taste:

10. Julia attended Smith College. She majored in history and graduated in 1934. Her plan after college was to become a famous woman novelist. She sought employment at Time, Newsweek and The New Yorker and when she didn't get a job at either magazine, she worked in the advertising department at the W. & J. Sloane furniture store. She made $25 a week.

9. Julia met Paul while working for the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) and "looking for adventure." The OSS was an intelligence agency formed during World War II. The two met in Ceylon (what is now Sri Lanka) in 1944; both were transferred with the OSS to Kunming, China; and in September of 1946 they were married. Paul had a black belt in judo and was a "physical person." He was a photographer and "his pleasure was in the act of creating." Paul took many of the photographs Julia used to inspire the artwork in her "Mastering" cookbook. Julia and Paul never got around to sending Christmas cards so instead they sent their family and friends homemade Valentine's Day cards. The more ridiculous the better. They seemed to be an adorable couple and I hope for that kind of married happiness someday.

8. One of Julia and Paul's first meals in France was at Restaurant La Couronne in Rouen, the city where St. Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. Julia described it as "the most exciting meal" of her life. She feasted on sole meuniere and oysters. The restaurant is considered to be the oldest inn in France established just a few years ago in 1345.

7. Julia was big on nicknames. Her sister Dorothy -- five years her junior -- was nicknamed "Dort the Wort" while Julia was called "Julia Pulia" and at some times even "Juke the Puke." Julia became a very good friend of the legendary James Beard (he asked Julia to call him Jim) and whenever they cooked together they were known as GiGi, as in Jim and Julie with the letter "j" pronounced the French way.

6. Julia attended her first cooking class at Le Cordon Bleu with 11 GIs who were "studying cooking under the auspices of the GI Bill of Rights." She was the star student, although she began unable to properly scramble an egg.

5. Julia sought a diploma from Le Cordon Bleu so she could teach but she failed the first exam. It was made of two parts: a written and practical exam. She aced the written but didn't know how to cook a single item on the practical exam. It included the following: an oeuf mollet, a veau "en surpise," and caramel custard. Her teacher Chef Bugnard insisted that despite this debacle, Child was qualified to be a chef. She aced the second exam and became a graduate of Le Cordon Bleu.

4. On November 6, 1959, after more than seven years of collaboration, Julia's manuscript for a cookbook, co-written with two of her French friends Simone "Simca" Beck (later Madame Jean Fischbacher) and Louisette Bertholle, was rejected by the editor-in-chief at Houghton Mifflin for being "a big, expensive cookbook of elaborate information" that "might well prove formidable to the American housewife. She might easily clip one of these recipes out of a magazine but be frightened by the book as a whole."

3. The woman who would later be Julia's editor, Judith Jones, left New York for Paris in 1948 at the age of 24 for a three-week vacation, got her purse stolen and never left (her return ticket was in her purse). She was working for Doubleday in New York at the time and ended up getting a job as an editorial assistant to a Doubleday editor in Paris. She just so happened to pick up a book her boss was planning to reject, urged him to give it a second go and when he did, Doubleday bought it and it became a worldwide sensation. You may have heard of it: "Ann Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl." A similar situation happened with Julia's manuscript. Jones tested several of the recipes, realized what an incredible feat it was and insisted to her bosses it be published. In May 1960 Jones sent Julia the good news. "We have come to the conclusion it is a unique book that we would be very proud to have on the Knopf list."

2. The original title of "Mastering" was "French Recipes for American Cooks" and Jones said no way. Early contenders were "The Master French Cookbook" and "The French Cooking Master." Until finally "Mastering the Art of French Cooking." Et voila! Bon appetit!

1. Julia and Paul called their homes by names. They lived at 81 Rue de L'Universite in Paris and they called it "Rue de Loo." They called their property in Provence La Pitchoune or "Little Thing." Julia held onto La Peetch for nearly 30 years -- from 1965 until June 1992. Paul was 90 and living in a nursing home outside Boston at the time when she decided to move on from their "spiritual home." When asked if she was going to miss it, Julia replied, "I've always felt that when I'm done with something I just walk away from it -- fin!" She added, "the heart had gone out of it for me now." Sad, in a way, but I know exactly what she meant.

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The Top 10 Aphrodisiacs and Where to Find Them in New York City Restaurants

Aphrodisiac: a food, drink or drug that stimulates sexual desire; a thing that causes excitement.

We've all heard of the term, and at one point or another, I'm sure we've all consumed one or several of them. Has it made you hornier or more of a sex machine? The jury's out, but for a different take on the Valentine's Day list of restaurants, here's my top 10 sexual helpers paired up with the places you can find them in New York City. Have fun and best of luck with finding love and some heat this weekend.

10. Asparagus

Asparagus “stirs up lust in man and woman," wrote a 17th century herbalist. Asparagus is a great source of potassium, fiber, vitamin B6, vitamins A and C, and thiamin and folic acid. Folic acid is known for boosting histamine production necessary for the ability to reach orgasm in both sexes.

You'll find the best asparagus dish in the city at Riposo 72. The sleeper wine bar on the Upper West Side grills its asparagus and wraps them in prosciutto and a thin layer of melted parmesan. It's to die for.

9. Avocado

Like the asparagus, the avocado is rich in folic acid. And just look at it. Its shape alone is sexual. So much so that Catholic priests in Spain once forbade it.

The best way to eat avocado is sliced on a sandwich, in sushi or chopped up in guacamole. For the first, head to Cafe Ronda for their chipotle sandwich with chicken, onions and avocados. For sushi head to BondSt for their salmon avocado roll. You'll find the best guacamole in the city at Mama Mexico on the Upper West Side or at any Rosa Mexicano location. The freshly-made guac is the stuff and both of these Mexican-themed restaurants chop the avocado right in front of you.

8. Bananas

In addition to potassium, bananas contain chelating minerals and the bromeliad enzyme, that are believed to enhance the male libido. Look at your significant other, start pealing one and eat it in front of him or her with a straight face. Have fun with that.

The only bananas I've eaten in this city, excluding the ones for 60 cents at my office cafeteria, have been on pancakes. Head to Norma's for a sick short stack. Their banana-macadamia nut flap jacks with whipped banana and brown sugar butter are off the charts.

7. Foie Gras

I've never been a huge fan of foie gras (or how they treat the ducks in the process), but if you're a Francophile in search of some loving, hit up Bar Boulud. They have an excellent selection of foie gras and pates. Try their country pate foie gras with truffle juice and port. Whether it's the ingredients or the fine food's mystique that grabs you, if eating it makes you feel sexy, go for it.

6. Basil

Smelling basil alone puts me under. Head to Kuma Inn for their steamed edamame with Thai basil-lime oil. If you prefer going the Italian route, head to Gradisca for a couple of options. Not only is this one of my favorite Italian spots in the city, but it's romantic as well and you can try their caprese salad with basil or the cavatelli pasta with tomato, eggplant and basil.

5. Pine Nuts

Pine nuts are high in zinc -- a mineral necessary to maintain male potency.

Kefi has an incredible dish with pine nuts: the sheep's milk dumplings with tomatoes, pine nuts and warm, soft feta. If I could I would eat at Kefi once a week. An alternative to the dumplings would be Frederick's caprese salad with pine nuts sprinkled on top.

4. Chocolate

Chocolate contains chemicals thought to effect neurotransmitters in the brain. The Aztecs once called chocolate the "nourishment of the gods."

Sfoglia serves an incredible pasta dish with chocolate: its gnocchi with mushroom and chocolate shavings. If you'd rather have chocolate in a sexy dessert, head to Artisanal for their romantic chocolate fondue.

3. Garlic

The "heat" in garlic is said to stir sexual desires.

I eat garlic in just about anything, but one of my favorite dishes in the city is at Esperanto. They serve mussels on the half shell, roasted with garlic, topped with parmesan and paprika. Pair the mussels with one of Esperanto's exceptional Brazilian cocktails and you're sure to score big this weekend. Good also flaunts its mussels with tons of garlic in addition to white wine, herbs and grilled country bread.

2. Wine

We all know red wine can be awfully seductive and this city has its fair share of places to find it. Though wine bars have a rather effeminate sound to them, don't fear, gents, bring your gal to one of these low-key spots and you'll be a hit. Riposo 72 makes it on the aphrodisiac list twice. You don't even have to taste the wine here to feel sexy -- you'll feel hot just holding their huge wine glasses. Their cozy warm atmosphere is heavy on the romance as well. Taste is another favorite of mine for vino. For more generous pours head to i Trulli, Peasant, Bar Boulud, Grape and Grain, and clo wine bar at Columbus Circle. If you want to stay in with your honey, head to Morrell's in Rockefeller Center or 67 Wine for my two favorite wine stores in the city.

1. Oysters

The Romans were the first to label oysters as an aphrodisiac.

There are many places to find oysters in New York City. The best in my book is Aquagrill in the West Village. Some runners-up would be Grand Central Oyster Bar, Jack's Luxury Oyster Bar and Morimoto. If you're in the mood for surf and turf, grab some oysters at my new favorite steakhouse Keen's.

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Momofuku Ssam Bar

"ARE YOU ALIVE?????? WHEN CAN WE GET DINNER?!?!??" asked FunStar.

She's always so dramatic. She produces a cable news show and they type the rundown in all caps and I think she forgets to turn off her work type from time to time. I still love her.

FunStar sent me a few of these e-mails starting back in November and it took us until the first week in January to get together. She always has a wish list of places to try -- a few years back she had an Excel spreadsheet -- so I asked her to e-mail me the ones at the top of this list. Excel or no excel, when I saw Momofuku Ssam Bar on the list, I got fired up.

Johnny Depp is to the Academy Award as I formerly was to David Chang's restaurants.

(If you don't know Chang, please read this article before you proceed. You will not regret it. I wish Larissa MacFarquhar did profiles on all of New York City chefs. I've had a crush on the guy ever since.)

Momofuku restaurants have been eluding me for years. Much like Babbo once was to me, the restaurants in the Momofuku family had an unattainable quality to them. I would hear someone asking if I'd tried Momofuku Ko, if I liked Momofuku Noodle Bar, if I wanted to go to Ssam Bar and I'd throw my head back, roll my eyes and give them a loud "Pfffhhaa! Good luck." I am the first to admit that if a restaurant is notoriously hard to get into I will avoid it at all costs, or wait around until it's uncool to try it. Sadly, neither Momofuku Ssam Bar nor any of its sister restaurants are getting any uncooler so FunStar gave me the kick in the pants I needed to swallow my ferocious pride and give it a whirl.

There was one slight problem. Over the past four months I've been eating strictly vegetarian. I feared eating at one of Chang's spots would be a total disaster.

I even asked my Twitter followers and @eaterny if there was a point in me trying Momofuku Ssam Bar. The responses were mixed.

One person wrote: don't go to momo if you're a vegetarian there are better choices.

Another wrote: pork buns and spicy rice cakes...and compost cookies. Drool.

While a third wrote: There are fish options and a veg or 3.

I consulted the menu and it looked doable. We would dine at Momofuku Ssam Bar despite FunStar being concerned about her having to eat all the meat dishes by herself. I told her she'd live.

I showed up at 8:25-ish. The place was a zoo, yet the hostess came and found me like a magnet. When I told her I was waiting for my friend running late from work, she pointed me in the direction of the Milk Bar and said she'd come in to check on me to see if my second party had arrived. I couldn't get over how friendly she was.

I was surprised by the simplicity of the decor in Ssam Bar. The tables were like picnic benches with an Asian flare. The chairs were backless. Folks at tables were to the right side (and there weren't a lot of them) and to the other side was the bar. It seemed like some of the tables were communal. Both the bar and table areas took up an equal amount of space in the dining room. The decor wasn't the hype here, or the coziness. The food was. Backless chairs don't lend well to settling in and hanging around for hours. The horizontal wood paneling and table design reminded me of that of the Chelsea pizzeria Co.

I wasn't entirely sure what the hostess meant by the Milk Bar. I knew it was attached but visually I couldn't see what she meant. I just kept following the narrow space between the bar and the tables, saw the bright light of the open kitchen at the far end of the dining room and found another hallway. At the end of this hallway there were large groups of people standing in line for bakery items, ranging from cookies and cakes to ice cream and soft serve. I guess it doubled as the waiting room.

I plopped my pur-ggage on the table with a thud and made it clear I'd be staying for a while. I whipped out Julia Child's "My Life in France" and began to alternate between reading a few paragraphs and checking out the commotion around me.

I heard about four different accents in the span of 20 minutes: Bostonian, Australian, German and French. This place was no secret to foreigners. Everyone knew and idolized Chang. The four young 20-something dudes behind me were drooling over what pork plate they were going to get, how Chang's fried chicken was "bad ass," and how they wanted a compost cookie for later.

What the hell was a compost cookie?

I looked up and saw it had pretzels, potato chips, butterscotch, coffee, oats and chocolate and any other crumbs lying around the kitchen Chang and his chefs could find. This was right up my alley.

A petite blond college student in front of me was going on and on to her two friends about balancing studying with her long-distance boyfriend and how she was really more into hooking up locally with randoms than having a committed relationship with someone who was far away. Her boring "far away" man was in Boston. I was tempted to blurt out her ridiculous whining on Overheardinnewyork.com, but I decided to continue reading instead. Where was FunStar?

The hostess came to check on me at least one more time before FunStar arrived. I couldn't believe how incredible the service was. She could have just dumped me in the back and waited for me to come find her when FunStar got there but no. She kept her word and made sure I was still solo.

When FunStar did come she went and found our hostess. I almost told her not to worry she was looking out for us but I was getting pretty hungry at this point after all the compost talk so if FunStar could expedite the seat process I'd be thrilled.

"Mona!" She waved at me at the end of the hallway connecting the Milk Bar to Ssam.

"Really? Ready? Coming!" I shoved my book and gloves and hat and scarf in my pur-ggage and flew off to start our Ssam adventure.

We snagged a great front seat at the bar. This was perfect. We could look at the menu, ask questions and watch the bartenders at work -- one of my favorite things to do.

"So...I need an update. Like NOW!"

"OK, OK... Christmas was incredible. We had the best time," I replied.

"Can I get you guys a drink?" Asked a tall thin guy with a chunk of his blond hair spiked in the front and pointing off to the right like an arrow. He was wearing an interesting two-toned green T-shirt and when he stepped away it reminded me of the old hyper-color tees.

"Oh shoot. We haven't gotten that far yet," I responded.

"OK, let's choose our drinks and then you'll tell me what happened," said FunStar.

FunStar told me about a drink she'd had recently called a French 75. Her version was made of Champagne, gin (though some recipes call for cognac or brandy) and lemon juice. We asked the bartender if he could make one. There were cocktails with Champagne on the menu, but he had an idea they weren't supposed to use Champagne for cocktails they didn't have on the menu. It sounded strange to us, but he was very smiley and friendly so we didn't think twice about it. I asked him about the seasonal pickle brine martini with Plymouth gin. To this dirty martini nut it sounded delish. I chose the classic with gin and FunStar went with a vodka version.

"OK. Spill it!"

"So... we met at our friend's wedding --"

"Dude. I know that part. Fast forward to more recent," she ordered.

"Ha! OK, OK. I don't remember what you know and what you don't know. We've seen each other four times now. He came to New York once and I went to Los Angeles twice--"

"So you met him and you've seen him three times since and you're totally gonzo!?"

"I know, I know. It must sound totally insane. But I'm totally insane about him. If you asked me to describe my dream man physically and emotionally it would be him. I just feel so lucky!"

"I'm so happy for you!"

"Christmas was a total whirlwind. We went whale-watching with his parents. Our parents met at dinner. Everyone got along super well. I spent a week with the fam and then I flew down to L.A. to be with him for four days. It was so awesome."

"Wow," she responded.

"Do you guys have any questions about the menu?"

"Oh... we haven't even looked. Sorry..."

"Let's pick out food and we'll keep talking after," suggested FunStar.

"Done and done."

We looked at the menu and there were a bunch of items that jumped out at us.

We tried as much as we could between two girls, one being a vegetarian. As our first cocktails dried up, the bartender informed us he'd inquired about making the French 75 and that he could in fact use the champagne for items not on the drinks menu. It was very sweet of him to pursue this further, because we had certainly forgotten, so we ordered up a round of French 75s and kept ogling at the menu.

We copied our neighbors and tried the cured hamachi with edamame, horseradish and pea leaves. The horseradish was charred black and I could have eaten the crumbles by the pint. The hamachi was light and fresh with an edamame sauce. The horseradish saved this dish from being bland.

Next we tried the cracked Jonah crab claws with harissa mayo. Like I mentioned below at Choptank, crab claws don't really do it for me. I tried to suck all the meat and juice out of the smallest claw and it was a lot of work for not a lot of substance. Next time I eat a crab it'll be a full sucker. FunStar wasn't impressed either.

FunStar tried the steamed pork buns with hoisin, cucumbers and scallions. Ever since eating at Kuma Inn I've loved the white gooey, almost marshmallow-like bun with pork belly. I kept to my vegetarian ways and just tried a sliver of the foamy bread and wished I could have had a plain side of the bun. I bet if I'd asked I could have. Rats.

We finished up with the bread and butter plate with two types of butter: sea salt from Vermont and whipped lardo. The bread was disappointing. It was thick and heavy on the tough crust with too little soft on the inside. Maybe Chang should outsource the one thing he's not an expert in -- French bread (sorry FCI). S'il est deja en train de faire ceci, je suis tres desole. The butter, however, was ridiculous, especially the lardo. It was so rich it could have been cheese. I almost wanted to eat it plain with a spoon. I knew it would give me a heart attack so I refrained, but man. Who knew butter could be so flavorful? Chang. That's who.

Last and definitely not least, we tried the fried brussels sprouts with mint and a fish sauce vinaigrette.

With all the hype surrounding Momofuku we hadn't been all that moved by the food... until the brussels sprouts. I don't care if you've never liked or tried a brussels sprout in your life, this is one of New York's finest dishes. No joke. I couldn't figure out if I wanted to just inhale them or eat them slowly so they'd last longer. A couple sitting next to us asked what they should get and besides the pork belly and the hamachi I yelled with brussels sprouts hanging out of my mouth, "THUH BRUHTHULL THPROUTHS!"

"So? Tell me more about MaineMan!!?"

Throughout dinner it was a battle to consume what was in front of us and each other's lives over the past six months.

"So... what is it about him, Mona?"

I think I have a face now whenever someone mentions him. It's called MaineMan face and I get called out on it constantly. I light up like the tree and ice skating rink at Rockefeller Center.

"I always told my mom I needed to find myself a mountain man, a manly man, someone who was tough as nails on the outside, but a soft, sensitive guy on the inside. MaineMan is that guy."

"I love it!"

"I don't know. I'll always be an athlete at heart. And I've always needed someone equally as tough as me, both emotionally and physically, and I always found it hard to be attracted to someone who wasn't. This probably sounds ridiculous..."

"NO! Go on."

"I couldn't date a wuss or a whiner. I've never met someone tougher, more active and more ready for an adventure than he is. I asked him if he wanted to do a marathon and he said, 'Yeah, sure!' without a second thought. Are you kidding me!?"

"I know exactly what you mean. We're both tough cookies. I needed that too," she added.

It was a huge relief that what I was saying wasn't gibberish.

"Right?! Yet, at the same time, he's a complete love... a total softie. So anyway...he's amazing and there isn't a second of any day where I don't doubt or question what he's thinking or feeling. Because he tells me all the time. It's never a mystery. And he lives across the country! I dated someone who I practically lived with who never said the sweet things MaineMan says to me. I really can't..."

"Mona!"

"... believe how lucky I am to have found..."

"Mona!"

"...him. I just feel so..."

"Mona!"

"Oh god, sorry. What?"

"You're totally glowing. It's so great. GLOW-ING! I'm sooooo soooo happy for you."

"Aww, thanks FunStar! It's just crazy. And I totally get it now."

We wrapped up dinner, thanked our bartender profusely for taking such good care of us and headed to the Milk Bar for some dessert.

FunStar had tried the cookies before and kept saying "blueberry blueberry blueberry" in my ear. I barely like fruit as it is so the thought of eating blueberries in a cookie just sounded borderline revolting. MaineMan teases me for being the only vegetarian he knows who doesn't like vegetables and fruit.

After staring at the blackboard for a good solid five minutes and not really registering what was happening I gave in. We went with the blueberry and cream cookie and the compost cookie.

These are the only two cookies you're allowed to try if you go to Chang's Milk Bar. They were soft, gooey, chewy and I wanted to wrap myself in them. Just how a cookie ought to be.

"We’re not the best cooks," Chang once told The New Yorker back in March 2008. "We’re not the best restaurant -- if you were a really good cook you wouldn’t be working here, because really good cooks are a**holes. But we’re gonna try our best, and that’s as a team."

Chang is no bulls*** artist. And his food is no bulls*** either. I don't know if I'll ever be ready to fight the minions to get into Momofuku Ko, but I am psyched to know I can count on a bar stool at Ssam for brussels sprouts, lardo, a strong cocktail, great service and a warm compost cookie for dessert. Drool indeed.

207 2 Avenue, at 13th St.
212) 254-3500

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Super Bowl Recipes: Top 10 for Your Party

Worked on this opus for 12 long hours yesterday. I found some great new friends on the Web, while reaching out to some old friends as well. I hope you enjoy these recipes! I'm seriously rethinking my decision to become a vegetarian after compiling this (but I won't, Winette, don't fret).

I'm off to sunny Orlando with @Jcole this weekend. Disneyworld wedding, here we come. Until next week, friends.

And you can click here for last year's rendition for another 10 gluttonous dishes.

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Choptank

"Hey! We're going to grab dinner tonight at Choptank. Would you guys like to join? It looks v. yummy, classic B'more food," wrote Fashionista.

"Only if you promise the hush puppies will be authentic. I'm in," said BYOWino.

Fashionista made reservations for five of us at Choptank, the new Chesapeake Bay-themed restaurant in the west village. She's a sucker for anything that says Maryland or crabs so I knew it wouldn't be long until we ended up there, whether it was for FTDC or another occasion.

My friend Sunkist was visiting from Colorado and I asked Fashionista if we could crash her and JerseyBoy's date night at Choptank. Every Friday they are in town they pick a restaurant off Eater's 38 (their list of essential New York dining spots). For this place they were making an exception. I wanted Fashionista to meet Sunkist and after a full day of back-to-back dance classes, I knew Sunkist would be up for a good, hearty meal.

Sunkist and I went to school together in Charlottesville and we moved to Snowmass, Colo., after 9/11. Sunkist went from being the star of Aspen's Crystal Palace to producing her own children's plays in Aspen. She is opening up a dance studio as well and part of her goal in coming to New York was to brushen up on some of the hottest trends in dance. I could devote an entire post to our hip hop class at the Ailey Dance Studio, but I'll save that humiliation and embarrassment for only my closest friends (and the unlucky passersby who got to watch my sorry butt wiggle and wag in the Ailey fishbowl studio).

Unfortunately, Sunkist had a class that night that went until nine. Reservations were at 8:30.

"We can shower at the studio so we can be quick to meet up," she texted.

I don't think Sunkist understood the whole New York reservation situation. I told her we'd play it by ear, knowing that we'd probably end up eating and meeting her somewhere after. Little Annie's in Aspen may let you hang out and casually wait for friends to arrive, but New York tables didn't quite work that way.

I'd already asked Fashionista to change her reservation once and I didn't feel like making her do it again. I e-mailed a few friends who I thought would be interested in dinner and we had one taker: BYOWino. Sunkist would join us later after her class and either sit with us or at the bar, depending on the space.

I was the first one to show up at Choptank. Since I'd been the annoying friend adjusting and readjusting our reservation, I was not going to be the annoying late friend. I walked in and felt sort of lost in the overly large empty space at the front for standing, checking in and waiting.

There were two high tables with stools on either side of the door by the windows. One couple sat with their Blackberries lit on the table. He would answer, she would stare off into space, he would hang up; she would answer, he would stare off into space, she would hang up. This little dance continued for about 10 minutes. They seemed to be meeting more people like I was, yet they had drinks and I did not. Hmmph. After checking in I sat down opposite them and watched the place in action.

The entrance space was straight up awkward. The bar behind the check-in table was a good four or five stairs up from ground level. They should have expanded the bar further towards the window and increased their stool surface area, while decreasing the over-sized pointless space in front.

As soon as Fashionista, JerseyBoy and BYOWino arrived, we exchanged hugs, left our tired winter coats with a host and headed off to our table. The main dining area scored high on the cool meter. Choptank was dominated by its two huge square-shaped bars in the middle of the room. The space with tables (and those who weren't cool enough to make the cut at bar seats) seemed like a lame after-thought. If you go to Choptank, eat at the bar. I immediately wished I was meeting one person instead of three so I could sit in front of the bartenders, drink out of a big wine glass and stare at the oysters all night.

The place was completely packed, yet somehow we scored the best table in the place - the end table right by the window. The dining area loops around to the left. After you pass the two bars you head down a few stairs again for the five or six tables on ground level.

We were big fans of the corkboard on each wall.

"I think we need to come in next time with a photo of all of us and just stick it up there," said Fashionista.

"Hells YES! Right in the middle of all the beach and sand scenes," said BYOWino.

"I love this plan," I added. I hope the wall has since filled up since we visited. It was looking a little sparse.

Our waitress came to the table for our drink order. Fashionista and I ordered a couple of cocktails while the boys ordered beers.

Our waitress was friendly and mildly attentive, but as sharp as a used piece of chewing gum.

"What happened to the hush puppies? That was one of the reasons I came," said BYOWino, half-jokingly, half-serious.

"Well...they had those in the beginning for our soft opening, then the chef must have taken them off the menu."

"Why?"

"I have no idea."

"Does the crab chowder have corn in it?" Fashionista asked.

"I have no idea."

"Do you mind...err... finding out?"

"Oh, you want me to find out? OK, sure."

The cocktails were pretty intense. Mine was the size of a pint-glass and half-filled with ice. Potent. Fashionista's came out and I wanted to ask, "That's it?" It looked awfully silly next to my gargantuan drink.

She tasted hers and was unhappy. It was a bit too heavy on the gin and you could barely taste the St. Germain, not to mention it was warm and would have tasted a million times better chilled. I liked mine, mostly for the ginger and huge ice cubes, and would definitely order it again.

For starters we tried the crab claws. We tried ordering the crab dip and chips off the menu, but the waitress informed us each table got a complimentary order. This was a nice gesture, but perhaps best to take that off the menu.

The crab claws were chilly and tasty. I'd recently tried them for the first time at Momofuku Ssam and was sort of underwhelmed. Maybe I'm just not a hard core crab person, but I felt the same way here. You don't get much meat for the price. The crab dip was cold and the potato chips were warm.

"Is crab dip supposed to be cold or hot?" I asked the pro.

"It varies. It can be either way," said Fashionista.

We finished the dip but it was too heavy on the cream cheese with not enough crab.

JerseyBoy and I ordered the fried oyster po' boy for our main meal, BYOWino ordered the steak and Fashionista ordered the crab chowder and peel 'n' eat shrimp.

I looked at my sandwich and without even tasting it I could tell it had disappointing written all over it. When I order a sandwich I want all parts blended into one. The bread was as cold as brick and I was tempted to throw it across the room like a frisbee. This was the work of one of Eric Ripert's (Le Bernardin) apprentices? There were maybe four oysters on the sandwich, it was devoid of sauce (except for a teaspoon) and there was shredded lettuce beneath it. The onion shoestrings were edible only because the other half of the plate barely was. I'm just not a big shoestring anything fan. I like my potatoes and onion rings fat and juicy please, not thin and dried up.

"I guess my po' boy bar is set too high. Have you guys ever been to Great Jones Cafe?"

"I think I went with you...no?"

"I don't think so? Well, anyway, best sandwich you'll ever have in your life. Their catfish po' boy. This one? Not so much," I explained. "How's yours?"

"It's actually really good," said Fashionista.

"That's good to know for next time. I definitely want to come back and chill at the bar. Can I try a shrimp?"

"Sure!"

She was right. She had the best thing on the table.

"How's yours, BYOWino?"

"Great!"

"What are those? Is that a sauce?"

"No, they're like liquid mashed potatoes. Try some."

I did and they were really tasty. In my carnivore days I would have snagged a sliver of steak from BYOWino, but alas I just had to look on with trust that it was very good. The mashed potatoes were like a dessert.


"Do you mind if we get a side of the dressing on the po' boy?" I asked our waitress.

"Umm, sure, you mean a side of dressing?"

"Yeah, whatever's on the sandwich. Can I get a side of it please?"

"Make that two sides, please," added JerseyBoy. We both agreed our sandwiches were too dry and needed some help.

"Sure."

We all kind of looked at each other cross-eyed. Something was slightly off with our waitress and we weren't quite sure what it was.

Then it happened.

"What the hell? I wasn't done with my drink!" I shrieked to the table.

I saw our waitress zip up the staircase with my half-drunk cocktail in her hands. She swung around and luckily we made eye contact and I waved her back.

"Sorry! I wasn't done with my drink yet," I said, shaking my head on the inside.

"Oh, sorry."

Taking a drink when it's not bone-dry, finished is one of my biggest petpeeves. And it wasn't like there was a gulp left. There was at least a good quarter of the cocktail still sitting waiting to be drank at the bottom of the glass.

We finished eating and began mapping out our plan for the rest of the night. I received a few texts from people that wanted to meet up.

Choptank employees started to clear our table and it happened again.

"I'm NOT done with my drink. Thank you."

I was laughing in disbelief. What is going on? What did I have to do? Tape the drink to my hands like we did in the game Edward 40-Hands? The servers and busboys at Choptank needed some coaching on table etiquette.

I understand the restaurant just opened and that a professional restaurant critic would wait several weeks, even months, before writing a review. I don't mean to pan Choptank entirely and I would like to go back. The oyster bar is definitely calling my name. I just hope this firsthand, early commentary will serve as a suggestion to the virtual suggestion box.

The prices were great. The bar area was awesome. I just wish the food had been as well. Choptank has a long way to go before making it on any "essential" list.

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