Columbia Street Diet // Spring 26
It was about eight months ago that I wrote about my refrigerator breaking while chronicling my food and drink adventures that week. The refrigerator is working just fine now, though its contents haven’t changed much—maybe just a few fewer bottles of champagne. It’s May. It’s beautiful out. You lose a few layers and stay out later than you should. There’s an energy to spring in the city—an excitement that feels impossible to ignore.
Wednesday, April 29
I had a personal training session on Tuesday, and Lana didn’t hold back. Not necessarily with the workout itself, but with the commentary: “Your core is…well, very weak.” She has a nice smile, though you don’t see it often. She’s all business—direct and honest in a way only someone from Eastern Europe could be. It’s good motivation—almost as effective as heartbreak—so I’m up early for a run. I start in the Seaport, head toward Battery Park, and eventually land at Hawa in Tribeca for my usual Triple A Party.
At work, I make a salad—usually some combination of whatever’s in the walk-in: gem lettuce, asparagus, and anything else that catches my eye. This is the time of year when rummaging through the fridge actually pays off. Before long, it turns into family meal, but I pass because I’m headed to Arthur for dinner. I work the floor with two servers in training, then head off to Greenpoint.
The plan was to stop by GiGi’s to say hello and check in on the chicken saga, but I pull up to Arthur right at 8:30. Charlotte greets me at the door and welcomes me back. We catch up before the rest of the crew arrives. The menu is full of spring: favas, ramps, even nettles. We end with two sundaes because the idea of sharing quickly came into question.
Thursday, April 30
A quick workout and sauna session before my usual Black Fox routine. Today I treat myself to a cortado and an olive oil bundt cake.
At work, the day is all about preparing the restaurant for the weekend. The weather is finally turning, and we’re opening the backyard. I skip family meal again and head down to Liberty Warehouse for Taste of Red Hook, a walk-around tasting benefiting the Red Hook Initiative. We’ve participated every year since opening in 2017, so it feels good to be back. This year I’m representing Popina and The Wine Cellar, pouring our classic Negroni. Lots of regulars stop by to say hello. I sneak a bite from Court Street Grocers.
I get out early and fully intend to find a bar to watch the Knicks game, but they’re up by fifty, so there’s not much drama left. Instead, I meet some friends at F&F Restaurant. Everything is delicious, but the guanciale and leek pizza really hits. We drink Gustinella rosato, which pairs perfectly.
A lot of people still long for the days of Prime Meats or Frank’s Wine Bar, but I love the evolution of the space and what it’s become.
Friday, May 1
I wake up and immediately check the weather. We’re opening the main backyard tonight, so I’m hoping things cooperate. It’s colder than I’d like, but “this is what the people want,” says Peter, my manager.
I walk to work today, skipping Black Fox and grabbing coffee from Nako instead. There aren’t many good coffee options in our neighborhood, so coffee runs sometimes require actual planning—which is not exactly my forte. I keep hoping someone opens a great café in the old Laurel space.
Caffeinated and ready for the rush, we start preshift: menu changes, specials, VIPs, dietary restrictions, service notes. Today’s focus is efficiency, teamwork, and asking for help.
Annie texts me around our second turn asking if I want to join her for a late dinner at Chambers. Her friend is hosting a pop-up for his upcoming project, Dragonne. Nine o’clock? Perfect.
We see some familiar faces at Chambers, but none more welcoming than Pascaline, who—along with Daniel—helps us pick a beautiful bottle of Horiot rosé for dinner. I’ve had still wines from Horiot before, but never with age, so it feels like a real treat.
Dragonne will eventually open in the old Annisa space in the West Village, and I can already picture the lines forming outside.
Saturday, May 2
I’m up early, obsessively checking the weather. We have a hundred-person wedding tonight, and they canceled their tent a week ago. I briefly reconsider our tent policy, but then get texts from friends assuring me we’re good to go.
Teddy (@pizzabyteddy) is making pizza, so we’re constantly running “quality control.” He usually makes his own dough, but this was last minute, so Daniel Eddy from Winner hooked us up.
Once the guests sit for dinner, Teddy and I head down to Strong Rope for a beer. The place is a madhouse—some people look like they just finished a round of dizzy bat.
Next stop: Tavern Next Door, Billy’s new cocktail bar. It’s a casual friends-and-family night, so we work our way through the menu—reimagined disco-era classics. Mini burgers, caviar, corn dogs, and other snacks keep appearing at the table. The space is beautiful and feels like a perfect addition to the neighborhood. I have a feeling I’ll end up there often.
We finish with a nightcap at San Pedro, accompanied by equal parts anger, confusion, and conversations about forgiveness. She says mushrooms make her emotional.
She’s amazing—I tell her often. I hope one day she believes me.
Sunday, May 3
So tired. I think I got home around 6 a.m. and was back at the restaurant by 10. Definitely an espresso-and-cold-brew kind of day.
Chef puts up a few lunch dishes for us to taste, but we have tables pulling wines off the specials board nonstop, so I spend most of the day running around. Before I know it, dinner service starts and I’m still at Popina.
I had plans later that night, but canceled. Instead, I went home and ordered Thai food from Lil Chef Mama—which might honestly be one of the best restaurant names ever.
Monday, May 4
Up early to knock out admin work. I bounce between The Wine Cellar and Popina, making sure the week starts smoothly.
The Star Wine Awards are hosting their ceremony tonight, so I walk from Popina to 11 Madison, stopping at Tasty Dumpling along the way.
The ceremony is basically a who’s who of NYC sommeliers. Popina has been nominated for years but somehow never takes gold. Kru was nominated too and also left empty-handed. These events can drag a bit, but it’s always nice catching up with friends.
A few of us try heading to EMP and Bar Clemente afterward, but apparently everyone else had the same idea. Eventually the group splinters off in different directions, and we end up at LenLen a few blocks away. After boat noodles and some reminiscing about Bennie’s Thai Café, we make one final stop: Martiny’s.
The old carriage-house space is incredibly cool, and the drinks are solid. It can be a great date spot when the crowd is right—but that’s not always guaranteed. Tonight, an older finance guy—who probably lives on Gramercy Park—seems determined to make sure everyone hears his painfully boring conversation, while a few beautiful women pose for content in the window seat. Their male companions play paparazzi while boozy matcha drinks function mostly as props.
I think about that girl who doesn’t have Instagram and how cool that feels. Not performative. Just genuinely present. There’s something incredibly attractive about that.
Tuesday, May 5
I want breakfast at Pearl Street Diner, but Lana’s voice is still in my head, so I run to Hawa for a smoothie instead.
I take a few calls from home about a potential new project—more on that soon.
At work, I sneak into the kitchen, grab a few raw scallops, and dress them with Senia olive oil, lemon, and Maldon. The scallops are so good they barely need anything. I dip some asparagus into anchovy dressing before heading back to my computer.
Chicken tenders for family meal at 4 p.m., preshift at 4:30, and then a wine tasting with Alessandro, who’s been trying to pin me down for months. Everything he pours is solid, but the Le Piane Nebbiolo and Torre dei Beati Cerasuolo stand out.
It’s eighty degrees, so we know it’ll be busy. Chef realizes we don’t have enough chicken for service, so I jump onto expo. I actually like expediting—it gives me an excuse to quality-control taste dishes as they hit the pass.
Things finally slow around 9 p.m., and I rush out to catch the last ferry home.
Wednesday, May 6
I’m excited for tonight’s wine dinner at Popina. We’re pouring wines from one of my favorite Burgundy producers: Dureuil-Janthial.
Will, our wine shop manager, puts together a fantastic lineup showcasing Vincent Dureuil’s Rully wines. They’re not outrageously expensive, but allocations are tight and bottles can be hard to find, so it feels special to pour both the 2022s and the current 2023 vintage side by side.
Will holds court beautifully, weaving stories about the wines and the people behind them. It makes the whole evening feel personal.
Jeff and Kiss from Kru stop by around 9, so I walk them through the lineup before heading out.
Chase, Josh, and Nick are at Bar Chimera drinking old Jamet, but Midtown feels like too much of a trek, so we compromise and meet at Bar Chucho in Two Bridges instead. It’s a new spot from the team behind Corima—which, embarrassingly, I still haven’t been to.
We try a few cocktails, though honestly all I really want is beer. The drinks are creative and fun, but an Uni Sour just isn’t my thing. Soon the table is crowded with snacks: a rich burger flavored with beef garum, a quesadilla with fantastic mole, a wonderfully excessive bluefin tuna chilindrina, plus guacamole for good measure.
I’m pretty sure this place is going to become a neighborhood late-night staple.
Chase wants to head to The River afterward, but somehow we end up at Cellar 36 instead. Apparently there’s no actual wine list, so Chase and Nick disappear downstairs to browse the cellar. They return empty-handed because the bottles Chase wants don’t have price tags—classic.
One phone call to the owner later, we finally get pricing, though I’m not convinced it favors us all that much. Still, we go for it: a bottle of 2017 Overnoy Trousseau and 2019 Entre Deux Bleus from Miroirs.
New York City—how about it.