Philippe?! Really?!

If you think the fancy schmancy “have to be hospital sanitary” restaurants are nothing to worry about, then feel free to type in your favorite spot at the NYC Department of Health and Mental Hygiene’s Restaurant Inspection Info link:

http://167.153.150.32/RI/web/index.do?method=goldenAppleList

I couldn’t believe it.. my favorite over-priced-but-sooo-good pan-Asian splurge, Philippe, barely passed their inspections. Before, just thinking about their chicken satay would make my mouth water; now I imagine it a scene out of Seinfeld, where Jerry goes to his girlfriend’s father’s restaurant and can’t bare to eat the food after witnessing the father, Poppy, casually leave the bathroom without washing his hands.

I can understand some hole-in-the-wall restaurant in the middle of nowhere, Square State, USA having little incentive to prevent a poor hygiene problem, but it’s unacceptable for a restaurant that hosts celebrity events and is featured on The Real Housewives of New York City (yes, I watch too much reality TV, it’s a guilty pleasure), let alone for the Big Apple in general. I doubt I’m the only one to have the recession special hair sandwich everywhere I go and am definitely not the last to fall victim to it.

Although, while on the subject of Philippe, I do have one quib about their bartenders. My last visit, about a month ago, while waiting for the rest of my party to arrive, I made a bee-line for the bar to order my “only when I’m feeling fabulous” drink: a cucumber martini. The bartender, as to not degrade herself by looking me straight in the eye, glances in my general direction and barks, “Sorry, doesn’t exist!” and quickly turned away to take someone else’s order. She must not have gotten the memo because when I ordered the same drink a mere few days earlier at Union Prime, the bartender was having a 15 minute conversation with me about how I prefer it made and such. I don’t overpay for a drink at Philippe for the bartender to belittle me. To avoid a conflict, I ordered a Ketel and Soda instead. I’m glad she knew how to make that with her middle school education.

Lyric Diner Hair Wrap

So, not to my surprise, the hair sandwich trend translated quite nicely into a hair wrap this weekend when I went to the popular (it was on MTV’s The City so I can backup that statement) Lyric Diner on 22nd and 3rd for a quiet Sunday lunch. After several admittedly enormous bites, I look down on my plate to find a squiggly black hair. My boyfriend was unfazed and continued to devour his chicken sandwich but I lost my appetite. Feeling it was my duty as a paying customer to let the manager know of my discovery, his response was a painfully indifferent and remorseless, “I’m sorry. Yes, they do wear hair nets,” in an I-don’t-know-what-else-to-tell-you tone. He comped my meal but I left feeling dissatisfied, not to mention hungry. At least the Pick-A-Bagel next door sufficed. A sad continuation of the hair wrap trend from my formerly beloved Moonstruck Diner on 38th and Madison. Maybe hair nets should be replaced.. I vote on plastic bags with very uber-tight elastic bands.

Lenny’s Hair Sandwich

The Lenny’s hair sandwich.. once an enigma to all who place New York City restaurants on a pedestal (including myself), has now unfortunately become a pitiful norm of hair in sandwiches everywhere with no end in sight. The last two times I visited the 23rd Street Lenny’s, I ordered my usual—turkey, cheddar, lettuce, tomato, onions, spicy mustard on a whole wheat wrap—and got a bonus short, dark hair free of charge. I appreciate their generosity but would prefer to just get what I paid for. Sure, I could have avoided the second follicle encounter by learning my lesson the first time, but a NYC institution like Lenny’s deserves a second chance. Fool me twice, shame on both you and me.