The oldest still-operating restaurant in New York City, still in the family of the original founders. At Christmastime, it's decorated to the nines. Go with a big group: portions are large and the wine flows liberally. Look for the little buttons on the walls: in the old days, the mafia would hang out in the back room, and if diners saw the cops come in, they'd press the buttons so the mafia guys could run out the back.

Intimate east village record shop with an excellently curated selection of second hand and new vinyl.

When I first got here my peers at work made me a list of places in our neighborhood. This restaurant was one of them and it's now one of my favorite local spots. This Italian restaurant has never disappointed me so far.

I have old friends in San Francisco who grudgingly tell me that the High Line is everything that's wrong with New York. Well, too bad. To me, it embodies a culture that's constantly reinventing itself: a defunct elevated railway that was becoming a burden to the city ("we used to climb up there to throw garbage bags full of rotting Korean food at the Hasids!", noted a successful photographer's assistant) becoming a startling example of urban greening for the public good. The expert landscaping makes it feel like walking on a Montauk beach - but a stone's throw from some of New York's most progressive galleries and hotels.

Get a piece of the south back with a chicken biscuit from Pies & Thighs.