Flowers Cafe - Lower East Side

This place sits innocently on the corner of Grand and Essex and sticks out with its flamboyant name and flower-power decorations among the more urbane LES surroundings. But it's not as innocent as you'd think. We are all familiar with these bohemian-bourgeoisie cafe spots that try to exude an organic and fresh theme: family-friendly and a general theme of worldly benevolence.

I pretty much hate stereotypical hippie culture with all the hemp, psychedelics and revelation-tripping stories. But the thing with Flowers is that it's not really like that at all. Sure, it's got literal flowers and a very homegrown theme--but this seems to be a model case of pretension. Yes, there is a certain degree of facade here. The ingredients seemed processed or, at the least, definitely not fair trade and there was no place to recycle your bottles/plastics. They seemed to use a lot of disposable plates and eating utensils as well. They also mistook cream cheese for butter, which is kind of weird.

Aside from the false-pretenses, the food was pretty standard. My sandwich was a pretty basic turkey club with cranberry sauce on a whole grain hero. The size was large and probably the most prominent plus, the ingredients seemed like cold cuts you get from plastic containers in the freezer section of the super market--all of the ingredients didn't have a very wholesome taste or texture to them.

My friend was less than pleased with her food. The prices weren't extreme, but still more than what I would value the food here at. The sandwich was around $8--you can definitely get a better sandwich for less or the same at a lot of places if you just walk west a little into Chinatown/Little Italy.

355 Grand St., New York, NY 10002, 212-777-8785, NY Mag article

San Loco - Lower East Side

This, my friends, is a Loco Burrito. You may be asking yourself: Sean, what's so loco about this burrito? To which, I would respond: I have no idea.

Upon first glance, you can't even tell there's a burrito somewhere in there--perhaps that is the loco factor? I admit, it would be quite loco if a burrito were able to hide itself--after all, it is an inanimate thing and when inanimate things can do things of their own will--I'm impressed.

The burrito is actually inset between the yellow rice and the guacamole, tomato, and sour cream--see it now? It's kind of like one of those magic eye things you used to get in elementary school, except that it really isn't anything like that at all. I'll get to the point now: this food was pretty mediocre. This cost around $10 and was:

A) Not very flavorful.
B) Not very filling.
C) Not very cheap.
D) Quite the opposite of loco.

I think the discrepancy here is either that I ordered the wrong thing--which I doubt, because burritos are a staple item on any quasi-Mexican menu or that other people's definition of cheap is different than mine--which is probably the most probable answer. There are a lot better and less expensive options in downtown Manhattan than this place and sadly, based on this burrito experience--I would even prefer a burrito from a corporate place like Chipotle or Qdoba, where the burritos are larger, cheaper and of better quality.

Specifically, in terms of the food, the rice was relatively dry, the burrito was bland--last I checked Carnitas were supposed to be tender, slow-roasted, pork pieces--not dry and stringy. The guacamole was standard--nothing special.

San Loco? More like San Mediocre...oh, wait, more like Sans Loco! Get it? That's good. But honestly, I'm not ruling this place out--I'll come back and order something else--apparently the Guaco Loco is really good, but I guess we'll see. Also, I'm really funny.

111 Stanton St., New York, NY 10002, 212 253 7580, www.sanloco.com

Artichoke - East Village

This place is getting lots of hype about being really cool and the NY Times name drops visits by celebrities like Keith Richards and the owner/chef of Momofuku--it seems like this place was set up for success. I've walked by a few times and it seems like there a pretty big line out the door usually (the inside space is extremely small). I went over with some pals and grabbed a couple slices to check it out while we watched another god damn vampire movie. Apparently vampires are the new pirates. People love them.

I love pizza. Artichoke is no exception, no doubt, their Neapolitan slices were good. First, the tomato and basil slice was thicker than your usual Neapolitan and the crust was even proportionally thicker, but not tough or burnt. Good, although there was a somewhat sparse amount of tomato chunks on top. The artichoke slice, which you would think would be somewhat phenomenal considering it's the establishments namesake, was not phenomenal--but still good. It was a little too buttery tasting, which might sound odd, but I got a distinct buttery flavor enveloping my mouth from it. Maybe some people like that, I wasn't repulsed, but it was a little off-putting.

Is Artichoke a sweet pizza joint? Yeah, it's pretty good. Is it as good as people seem to make it out to be? Probably not--sure, Keith Richards likes it, but he's really fucking old. And the Momofuku guy? Just because he went there doesn't mean he thinks its the bombest ass place--maybe he went home and took a bite and was like "Damn, this shit tastes BUTTERY."

Probably not. But imagining it makes me laugh.

328 E. 14th St. and 1st Ave., 212 228 2004, NY Times article

Krolewskie Jadio - Greenpoint

To dine in the amber halls of the Jadlo is not a simple task. One cannot wistfully point at this or that item and suppose all is well. No, on behalf of the mighty flowing Vistula and Oder the mind must wander like their beguiling waters, first serene and then treacherous. There is no warning. The ghosts of six million lost souls wander the nether highway from Poland's Curzon Line, they attempt to migrate to any place with traces of Polish pride--praying for a time long past when even the vicious Teutons were humbled in their presence.

Here, dragoons linger with halberds gripped, here, the gaze of Jagiellon nobles fall upon your shoulders and burden you. Your senses weary.

Enough of these prophetic rambles. The food we ate was mediocre. The chicken kebabs were dry and overcooked, the vegetables were average and sparse. My memory disallows me to identify the white substance adjacent the kebabs--only that is was semi-malleable. The beets, I am relatively certain, were canned and the pickles were . . . pickles. The potato dumplings were bland and in need of some non-existent dressing.

The perogies were a saving factor--light and airy, crisp. Wonderful. I think this experience was partially folly on my part. I am aware that the spectrum of good food narrows the more north you go in europe. I think it would have been better to simply order very obvious Polish specialties--namely beef strogonoff or more perogies of various types. I still do not condone "menu filler" though--which is what I consider what me and my companions ordered.

I curse the Piast Dynasty.

694 Manhattan Ave., Brooklyn, NY 11222, 718 383 8993, Yelp Page

Home Sweet Home - Lower East Side

Before I talk about Home Sweet Home, let me take a brief moment to plus a friend's food blog. The only other person I know that has a food blog--and, unlike me, she can actually cook. Damn. I'm just going to put this link here; you don't have to click it, I mean, you can, but it's your choice. I mean your on this food blog right here already, just saying. However, it may be stereotypically good to hear the musings of a female food person--after all they are the archetypal homemakers and food preparers of past preconceived, narrow-minded notions.


The following series of pictures will test your ability to gauge an establishment's integrity based on metaphor, symbolism, lighting, and aural speculation.


These are the under-dwellings of Home Sweet Home's bar. Either the yard-sale findings of some long-haired hipster or the antique inheritance of said hipster. The word hipster is pretty ambiguous and moot nowadays.



I love birds.




From these images you should be able to gather that Home Sweet Home, is a small divey bar with no outside sign, very dark, a good music selection--expect older music like 90s and before, a lot of dancing, average priced drinks and a cool atmosphere.


131 Chrystie St., New York, NY 10002, 212 226 5708, NY Times article