The best part of the new Whitney Museum is the view in all directions from the terrace - and also from the staircase facing West. I'm afraid it upstages the Art.

Cafe Mogador has been serving modern takes on traditional Moroccan dishes for breakfast, brunch, lunch, and dinner in the East Village since 1983.

Strand is a castle of books. It claims 2.5 million new and used books, across 18 miles of shelves, cared for by 200 employees—so set aside a couple of hours. Plenty of art books and good prices. Get your healthy huff of that old book smell.

A delicious treat at the end of a warm day. The ice cream has a rich sesame flavor and is not as cloyingly sweet as regular American ice cream.

It starts when a friend implores you to eat downstairs at La Esquina, the subterranean brasserie branch of Derek Sanders's Mexican axis of Kenmare Street. The food’s cheaper and probably better at the walk-in-only cafe around the corner from the restaurant’s entrance—a door disguised by a taqueria counter and a sign that reads “Employees Only”—but there’s a certain category of New Yorker who thrives on having what others don’t. A reservationist will ask you if you’ve “dined with us before,” and in general, it takes knowing someone in the industry, smooth talking, or (velvet-rope flashback) looking good and confident at the door, to waltz in at prime time. The reward is dining in a Mexican dungeon as styled for a Vogue shoot, complete with metalwork, distressed stone walls, and water dripping on the back of your neck (though the owners can probably thank the air conditioner for the added atmospherics). Making up the grinning crowd at secluded booths and in private cells (?): a healthy mix of models, cougars, and maybe John Mayer picking his way through red snapper ceviche, cauliflower and avocado taquitos, grilled octopus tostados, or a plate of tuna tartare with a tamarind glaze. If the food sounds light, you’re right; it’s playing to the delicious crowd.  This is, what "The New Yorker" wrote about this fantastic place!