Restaurant Review: Arepas Cafe

After the rousing success that was Vesta's brunch, I prematurely crowned Astoria as the king of New York's diamond-in-the-rough restaurant scene.  Of course, this was most irregular, as I'm usually never premature...about anything.  Astoria is not bulletproof, of course, but it still represents an attractive culinary investment, particularly for those whose pockets are shallower than my taste in women.  Just kidding ladies, you're beautiful on the inside, too, from what I've heard.

Arepas Cafe falls squarely into the realm of "austerity measures."  Don't let the elegant website fool you; what you see is what you get.  That is to say, you're getting elevated street food served in a venue the size of a shoebox with enough character to make you say, "What was that cute little Venezuelan place we went to last month?"  Of course, you won't remember, and you won't care that you don't remember.  Instead, you'll probably wind up back there in a few years with an intense feeling of deja vu and a substantial amount of regret.

Before we start unabashedly bashing Arepas Cafe for no reason, let's first go over what an Arepa is (this is your cue to read the wiki).  Now that you're back, you might be saying to yourself, "Why is that General Tso so gosh darn mean?  I mean, the ceiling for this type of fare is pretty low."  Look here, cupcake, cry me a river.  Being a restaurant that serves primarily street food does not excuse the place from lack of experimentation.  Browse the menu of Arepas Cafe and you'll be stunned at the lack of creativity.  Again, the food wasn't bad, it was simply disappointing.  If you're up for an average meal at an average restaurant, then by all means spend your money, which apparently grows on trees, at Arepas Cafe.

Street food they might as well serve on the asphalt.

Verdict: 3.5 out of 5 austerity measures

Restaurant Review: Gaia Italian Cafe

So let's get one thing straight: I'm not a mean person.  Well, not that mean, anyway.  I'd like to think there's a minuscule amount of good in even the most depraved people, and that principle goes for food, too.  So when I say that Gaia Italian Cafe provided me with the worst meal of my life, rest assured that this is not false bravado or hyperbole.  I spit the truth, dawg.

Instead of my usual spiel, let's have story time.  Once upon a time, there was a devilishly handsome food blogger named General Tso (his friends called him GT for short).  GT had just moved to New York, and was on the prowl for good eats in the city, but he was overwhelmed by the numerous restaurant options, the women, the subway system, the different neighborhoods...oh, and the women.  Luckily, he used Al Gore's invention to find a highly rated Italian diner named Gaia Italian Cafe, although there were only 10 reviews on its Yelp page...all one-liners.  But still, a perfect rating on Yelp in the LES?  That %$&# cray.

So one gorgeous evening, GT and his parents decided to saunter on down to this CAFE and sample their wares.  Seeing as how this was a CAFE and not a formal dining establishment, GT decided to forego reservations, because, well, it was a CAFE.  When the happy family arrived, they noted that there was not a single customer in the place.  Odd, because when they began taking a seat in the barren restaurant, the owner rushed at them like a Spartan in 300, telling them that they were only seating reservations that night.  The family, confused at the circumstances before them, looked at each other haplessly and exited the restaurant.

Flash forward several months.  GT had finally made reservations at Gaia Italian Cafe for him and a lady friend.  The anticipation had been building for this night, where GT would finally get a taste of Gaia's famous panini.  Again, the restaurant was desolate, but the couple were seated according to the Geneva Convention rules of reservations.  The two noticed strange things starting to occur in the restaurant.  For instance, nobody else was in the freakin' place.  Also, Gaia kept turning away perfectly acceptable customers because they lacked reservations.  Ain't no one in here homegirl, whatchu doin'?

The worst was yet to come, however.  Namely, the food.  The two ordered several of the $5 paninis, a steal if you were getting something edible.  They were not.  The paninis were cold, the ingredients within were sparse and average, and the presentation was terrible.  Oh yeah, by the by, CAN A BROTHER GET SOME PLATES?!  The coup de grace was an odd concoction of some sort of mystery meat curry laid on top of homemade mozzarella.  It all sounded well and good, until they got the dish, which amounted to cold diarrhea on top of mozzarella sitting in a pool of its own whey.  This was as appetizing as a murder scene.

I cannot identify a single good thing about this dish.

Verdict: 1 out of 5 bouts of diarrhea