Craft--Manhattan

212.780.0880

So the ol' wifey wife is a huge top chef fan.  I've always found the only inspiring thing about the show was the hot co-host's body, but since it is one of the only shows that she likes that I can tolerate I admit to having seen my fair share.  Craft's Tom Colicchio I always found kind of douchey--in that the name of the show should really be called top cook as there's no contest for scheduling, food costs, hiring right, or any of the other managerial responsibilities of what a real chef may do.  He's always kind of a dick, and walks around with his chef jacket on in the kitchen scenes, and I've always thought he was pretentious and unnecessarily critical.  Don't get me wrong, I know this guy has chops, serious food award winning chops, but Bill Laimbeer was good at basketball and he still was a cockhead.  Okay, with that said I went to Craft ready to take this guy down, ready to nitpick to death just to satisfy my overwhelming insecurities when it comes to being in the presence of celebrities, nay celebrity chefs, wait, celebrity chefs that I am convinced are kind of douchey.

And I am disappointed to say Craft delivered.  Ever aspect save one (see below) of this dining experience was executed flawlessly.  We went for an anniversary dinner, and had everything for two.  Simple arugula salad.  Perfect.  Sirloin for two. Perfect.  Hemmingway daiquiri.  Perfect.  Service.  Perfect.  Ambiance.  Elegant yet not pretentious  Music....wait a minute!  They were playing a pandora station (I got this from the waiter who had worked their ten years and told me everything I ever thought about Colicchio was wrong) that Colicchio designed.   It was a bunch of recognizable alt bands, but the one that really stuck out was the Pixies.  Who the fuck plays Pixies as background music!  Eat a dick Tommy Boy, I knew I'd get you.

Arturo's--Maplewood, NJ

(973) 378-5800

Oh Beloved nine.  Tragedy has befallen the Iconman.  Yep, like all good things his sojourn in Brooklyn has come to an end.  He, like so many brave souls before him, has embarked on a mission to make everything better outside of the outer boroughs.  And like the phoenix must rise from the ashes and start a new.

What to say about Arturo's brick oven pizza?  It's the only game in town.  Literally, it is the only decent place to eat, congregate, make merry, etc in the entire town.  To be fair, it's a pretty small place, Maplewood.  Word on the street is that it's all but impossible to get a liquor license, which would explain the BYOB policy.    None the less if you happen to be lost around Newark, and somehow stumble into this sleepy little suburban oasis, Arturo's is the only place you will want to park and get some grub.

How's the food?  Passable.  Pretty good by my standards, but that's like throwing a virgin in a whorehouse and asking him thirty seconds later if he fell in love.  Actually, scratch that, as it makes no sense whatsoever.  The food is fine--the service unrefined and barely legal.  I had some raviolis and they delivered with one six different salads as the entrees come with a side salad, and we ordered the same salads to start--see above unrefined service.  Evidently,  they like you to be regular in Maplewood.

The wine was exceptional as I bought what I wanted since the place is BYOB.  I had a sancerre.  I had to ask the waiter to get ice maybe fifteen times.  His voice cracked, so I think I might have scared him.  Anyway, it's the only gig in town so I played nice and left a big tip.  I'm sure he's gonna spend it on baseball cards that will end up in the back wheel of his bike.  Yep, it's like that.