This is arguably the worst dining experience I’ve ever had–and everyone I tell is outraged, too. So get your indignant cap on.

A group of 5 of us went to Pigalle in Hell’s Kitchen for Saturday brunch. The food wasn’t good, but that’s not the point of this story. I ordered a frisee salad with tomatoes, bacon, and a poached egg and a side of fries–and I asked for hollandaise to dip my fries in (if you’ve never done that, try it!).

When the check came, I was annoyed to see they charged me $2 for the hollandaise sauce. Granted, $2 is not a ton of money, but it was a tiny canister of sauce, and they never told me there would be a charge. I asked the server why he charged me, and he immediately got defensive and said, “Don’t get mad at me; the manager told me to.” So I asked the manager to come over.

And that’s when things went downhill, and fast.

She tried to justify the charge as a side order, but I argued that they never told me there would be a charge, nor did it say it anywhere on the menu. She explained that since I asked for an extra condiment, there was a charge. To which I said, “Well, if that’s your logic, why didn’t you charge me for the ketchup? Because we had to ask for that, too.” She was clearly unhappy, but took off the charge.

Then we each tried to put our cards in to pay, and the server told us they had a two-card maximum. Um, what? Since when do restaurants in NY in this day and age put a max on the number of credit cards they accept? I’ve never run into that problem elsewhere. So the manager came back on over.

And that’s when things got truly ugly.

We argued that, again, we hadn’t been told at the beginning of the meal that there was a maximum on the number of credit cards, nor did it say it anywhere on the menu. She said we should have asked. We said that was ridiculous, and then she leaned in and said, “Listen, let me tell you something about eating in restaurants.” Oh no. You could practically see the steam coming out of our ears at that point. We didn’t want to cause a scene, though, so we just stopped her right there, grabbed the check, and borrowed money from each other to pay cash.

We were all so taken aback by how condescending she was, and my friend Dana went up to her with our money to say we had never experienced this kind of treatment in a restaurant. She told Dana to calm down (which, as we all know, is the WORST thing to say to someone), which is then when Dana got really upset. She told her she was appalled by how she was treating us, and the manager told her we were acting like children. Dana informed her we would never be back, and we were on our way.

Have you ever been treated so poorly in a restaurant? The level of customer service obviously differs from place to place, but I’ve never had someone be so immediately antagonistic and rude. Needless to say, we won’t be back. And I highly recommend you never go, either.

Pigalle, www.pigallenyc.com, 790 8th Avenue, New York, NY, 212-489-2233

So after being told that everyone in my 8-person party must buy the prix-fix meal, even though it was way more food than we wanted, plus, oh yeah, they only take Discover, American Express, and cash, I was already annoyed that I was going to be eating at Taureau, a BYO fondue spot in the East Village. But, the food is decent, it was in a convenient area for who I was meeting, they take reservations, and did I already mention it’s BYO? No? Guys, it’s BYO.

Once we sat down, we managed to convince them to let us opt out of the prix-fix, and we ordered two fondues and several sides for our group.

Each fondue comes with salad and unlimited bread, and each side you order is also unlimited. We chose the Perigord (parmesan & white American with truffles & truffle oil) and Pyrenees (swiss with white wine, garlic, and nutmeg), and mushrooms, cauliflower, fennel sausage, and asparagus to dip.

Nothing is even worth discussing other than the Perigord–it’s addictive. Truffle cheese? Just try to put your fork down. Everything else was only okay. The Pyrenees was bland, the veggies were overcooked, and the fennel sausage was cold and greasy.

I suppose in the end it’s a good place to gather with friends, especially because of the BYO factor and social aspect of fondue. Just don’t even think about going over seven people, though–and order the Perigord!!!

Taureau, http://taureaunyc.com, 127 E. 7th St. (between 1st & Ave. A), New York, NY, 212-228-2222

Packed nice and tight

Everybody wants a dependable, delicious Italian neighborhood joint (or at least you do if you’re like me). But not everyone’s as lucky to have one as amazing as mine. Celeste is the stuff neighborhood joints dream to be. It’s cheap, cozy, welcoming, and–most importantly–the food is always, always excellent.

When you walk in you’re greeted by the kooky, friendly owner–a requisite to joints. If it’s anytime near dinnertime, expect a wait, though not terribly long (the most I’ve waited at peak time on a Friday night was 30 minutes), which is pretty incredible considering how tiny the place is.

The menu is like a greatest hits album of Roman Italian food: pizzas, pastas, fried food (calamari, veggies, artichokes, etc.), and mains.

Absolutely perfect linguini & clams

The first three times I went I couldn’t help but order the linguini & clams–it’s exactly what you want this ubiquitous, but often subpar, dish to be: briny, salty, and buttery with perfectly al dente noodles to slurp up. The key to this dish: ask for the hot oil. It doesn’t come already on it, but the owner is more than happy to sprinkle some on for you.

I’ve since branched out to other dishes, and I’ve never been disappointed. The fried apps are in a light & crispy tempura batter, their pastas are mostly homemade and perfectly composed (another favorite of mine is the homemade tagliatelle with shrimp, cabbage, and sheep’s milk cheese), and the pizza is cooked in their 700 degree wood-burning oven (helpful hint: get the margherita with prosciutto on top!)

As good as pizza gets!

Seriously, everything on the menu is fantastic, and if you’re not feeling anything on it (ha!), you can always try one of their irresistible specials. Ones I’ve had were frutti di mar (mixed seafood & pasta in a tomato saffron broth) and a burrata pizza with butternut squash, onions, and potato.

I’d pay a lot for this food, yet most entrees are around $10-12. Yep, you heard me. You can eat here every day of the week and not break the bank. I have to talk myself out of going there most nights.

So are you jealous this isn’t your neighborhood joint? Cause you should be.

Celeste, 502 Amsterdam Ave. (between 84th & 85th), New York, NY, 212-874-4559

One of 2 a.m.'s finest products

This experience is little hazy to me. As are lots of late night pizza places to most of us, except South Brooklyn Pizza had several stand out qualities. As soon as my friends and I ordered a pie with the cashier after a night out, he turned around and started preparing it, which was the first surprise of the night. The second was the care with which he made it–thinly rolled out crust, tenderly scooped tomato sauce, and deliberately placed fresh mozzarella. After it came out, he tossed on fresh torn basil, grated aged parmesan, and a few turns of extra virgin olive oil  (paparazzi pics below). With ingredients like these, really, what can go wrong?

Pretty much nothing, as it turns  out. It was a crispy, fresh, delicious pizza that was irresistible to the point of seriously burning our mouths for. The crust was slightly crunchier than I normally enjoy (don’t you think a doughy bite on top of some crunch is also welcome?), but the other flavors were so bright that it made up for it. South Brooklyn Pizza is a definite late-night East Village must.

And if you’re totally sober, I highly advise allowing it to cool before devouring.

Fresh out of the oven (see the steam?)

A parm shower

South Brooklyn Pizza, www.southbrooklynpizza.com, several locations in Manhattan and Brooklyn

Every sandwich was extraordinarily tempting, but I went with what I just couldn’t resist: gruyere, goat cheese, leek confit, and pancetta on sourdough bread.

Jealous?

It was, seriously, perfection. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside sour bread, velvety, melted goat cheese with the bite of Gruyere, oniony leek confit, and salty pancetta…except, it wasn’t pancetta in my sandwich. It was definitely bacon, but–trust me–I’m not complaining. It was my ultimate grilled cheese, and luckily, seems easy enough to replicate. Each sandwich comes with some homemade potato chips, too, which is a classic accompaniment to grilled cheese (beside tomato soup, which is also on the menu).

My friend Cayla went with the asiago, parmesan, muenster, butternut squash, and sage brown butter sammy, and it was just as good, yet totally different. The cheese wasn’t as creamy since it didn’t have the goat cheese, and the sandwich was sweet from the squash. Delicious in its own way, too, though I always opt for salty over sweet.

The place itself is adorable. It’s incredibly tiny with only room for about 12-14 people sitting down, and whimsically decorated.

An optical illusion

There were wooden mice around the room, and this chandelier is actually a bunch of cheese graters (can you see it?) with lights in some boxes.

I wouldn’t necessarily go for dinner since it has such a casual, laid-back vibe, but it’s a fabulous lunch or late-night spot, which is dangerous since so many bars I love are also on the LES, and Little Muenster is open ’til 4 a.m. on the weekends.

Or perfect, depending how you look at it.

Little Muenster, www.littlemuenster.com, 100 Stanton St., New York, NY, 212-203-7197

Okay, so I immediately said yes and headed downtown after work for what looked like some seriously serious pies at Co. in Chelsea. I arrived a few minutes before she did and my two options were wait 20 minutes for seats at the communal table or snag the caddy-cornered bar seats that just happened to be open (score!). It was super cute inside–very warm and energetic, yet casual. We were going to be eating pizzas, after all, but it was obvious that these weren’t your $2 slices at the place downstairs.

We planned to split a pie, but I wanted one with pork on top, which Cayla doesn’t eat. Here’s a hint to my heart: just say the word “lardon,” and I’m yours. So naturally I opted for the “Flambe” pizza, which had bechamel sauce and was topped with parmesan, mozzarella, caramelized onions, and lardons. Just typing it makes me giddy.

Photographed by Cayla Rasi

One look at the photo, and you know it’s gonna be good. And it was. It really, really was. The sweet, caramelized onions paired perfectly with the salty, crispy pork fat bits. And it was so interesting to have bechamel as the sauce, rather than tomato. What really brought the whole pie together, though, was how wonderfully well-done it was. It’s one more thing to add to the list of traits I’ve picked up from my Mom, who orders her pizza in the same breath as saying, “Extra thin and extra crispy!”

It was delicious, different, gourmet, high-end, and really expensive pizza. $17 expensive for a personal sized one. And I finished the entire thing, which just doesn’t happen often for me. Let’s call it special occasion pizza, because it’s hard to justify spending that much more for something that New York so readily offers at half the price.

It was the lardons. They kidnapped my sensibilities.

Co., www.co-pane.com, 230 Ninth Avenue (at 24th Street), New York, NY, 212-243-1105

From the back corner of the restaurant

If there’s any type of challenge I like best, it’s finding the perfect place to eat for the mood/price/type of food/area my group wants. This weekend’s mission? Find a happening (yet casual), inexpensive, not-exotic restaurant in either Murray Hill or Turtle Bay that had good reviews and even better food.

Now, I don’t mean to brag, but my Zagat-ing and NY Mag restaurant list-ing skills are impeccable. I narrow my fields to the neighborhoods, price point, and type of food I want, then cross reference the two lists to find a winner. Bonus points for Zagat above 22 food ratings (it’s out of 30) and NY Mag Critic’s Picks. And this time the grand prize went to Social Eatz in Turtle Bay, Manhattan.

It totally fit the bill: an energetic, young crowd, cheap (I’m talking $10 entrees) food, and a safe-yet-boundary-pushing menu. How is that possible? Well it’s a Korean-American fusion menu, so there’s your standard burger, yet also a Bibimbap burger (which I had). I like more adventurous food, but one of the people I was eating with strays more toward safe, so it hit that perfect balance. Oh, and the cherry on top: I was able to get a 7 p.m. rez the day of.

The service was incredibly friendly–our server was attentive, yet not over-the-top. She never rushed us, and always seemed to stop by at the perfect moment. It was a bit loud in there (said my friend Ali), but I liked the vibe. And, what matters most, the food was great.

Turns out Angelo Sosa, a former Top Chef contestant, started the restaurant, so I was particularly interested to see if the food lived up to his reputation. I had the bibimbap burger, which is topped with a slow-cooked egg and pickled veggies. Plus Eater rated it the best burger in America. Really, how can you pass that up?

An insanely juicy burger!

Ok, so you can see that it’s a messy burger. In fact, I might call it horrible first, second, or third date food. This is a burger for committed boyfriends and friends who have already seen you stuff your freaking face. That said, it was delicious. Cooked to a perfect medium rare, the pickled carrots & cucumbers added great acidic flavor, and the runny egg a savory component. Was it the best burger in America? Absolutely not. Was it different and worth a try? Yes. It also comes with a kimchi of sorts on the side. I actually have no idea what you would call it, but it was a spicy, crunchy, acidic pickled veggie that I couldn’t get enough of. I even swiped my friend’s since he wasn’t eating it (you snooze, you lose).

In my research, I had read that the fries come with a cheddar-sake dipping sauce. Um, yes please! So obvi we ordered one for the table, plus an Asian-inspired mac and cheese.

Carb overload--fries and mac & cheese.

The fries were just like I like ‘em: skinny and crispy. The cheese sauce was flavorful and didn’t taste processed at all, but was a tad thin. And the mac & cheese was excellent. They actually used macaroni (so throwback) and it had a tempura flake on top that added great texture.

Last note about the restaurant: it really is social. Our server told us that if we checked into Social Eatz and wrote a review, we’d get free Halloween shots. An awesome-sounding deal, except apparently we’re not very social people and none of us use Foursquare or Places. All in all, though, good play Social Eatz. I will absolutely go back when I need a restaurant in that area.

Plus everything is better with a “z” attached. Byez!

Social Eatz, http://www.socialeatz.com, 232 E. 53rd St (between 2nd & 3rd Avenues), New York, NY, 212-207-3339

I went for a hot corned beef & pastrami Reuben on my first visit, and the meat was achingly tender and flavorful, and 1/2 of a 1/2 filled me up for dinner. And the fries–oh, the fries!–were beautifully golden brown, crispy on the outside and pillowy on the inside. The second time, the food was just as great. I went for brunch and chose the corned beef hash, and 15 minutes after it arrived was shocked that I had managed to finish the entire plate. The hash came with a poached egg on top (cooked a little too much), potatoes, an orange wedge, and toast. All for $12? Talk about value. Oh, and let’s not forget the bottomless cocktails that come standard with your brunch meal. The bloody mary was seriously subpar, but it’s still an astonishing deal. Plus if you opt for a mimosa, there’s not much they can do to screw that up.

As I sat with my friend Dana, she pointed out to make sure I mention our two complaints: it takes for.ev.er. for your food to come out, and once it does, there’s no promising your table will all receive their entrees at the same time. Which if you’re like me, and feel the need to wait until everyone receives their food, can be quite the problem. (The second complaint was the too-poached egg. Can you blame us? We like rich, golden yolk sauce.)

If I went to Lansky’s every day for the next month, I don’t think I’d even scratch the surface of what the menu has to offer. It’s a casual, affordable, great for groups (there’s something to please everyone and, thank the Lord, they’ll actually seat you before the entire party arrives) neighborhood joint that’s a reliable place to keep in your back pocket.

Lansky’s, http://www.lanskysnyc.com, 235 Columbus Avenue, New York, NY, 212-787-0500

With pop in hand!

I swear, ice pops are everywhere. I can’t look at a newsstand without eight different brightly colored versions staring at me from food magazine covers. Not that I’m complaining! It’s just about time that I actually ate one, rather than merely read about how high-quality and trendy they’ve become.

So when I came across a People’s Pops cart on the High Line this past weekend with my mom, I knew my moment had come. I had heard only good things about People’s Pops–like how fresh and real their popsicles are, and how refreshing it was to have an ice pop of that quality. I opted for the strawberry tarragon, which sounded just about perfect for a mid-morning snack on that scorching hot day 30-something feet in the air.

And it was! I’m so excited to say that, especially since after hearing such rave reviews of this place, it’s easy to get a little nervous about how it will actually be. There were, however, nice big chunks of strawberries throughout, and the popsicle somehow managed to be creamy and light. My only complaint is that I could barely taste any tarragon. I might as well just have been eating a plain ol’ strawberry pop–not that there’s an-y-thing wrong with that.

Would I eat another People’s Pop? Yes! Even though it was a whopping $3.50? …Yes. But only if my mom’s paying again!

I’d recently been seeing meat pies featured in magazines, on blogs and on TV, and my longing to try one was growing larger and larger with each mention. And when my boyfriend Will raved about his frequent New Zealand meat pie meals, I knew I had to try one, stat. So when, one late night in NYC, slightly hungry and on my way to a bar in the Lower East Side, I passed an inconspicuous sign that so innocently stated, “Come try our pies,” I couldn’t ignore such a blatant opportunity. I convinced Will to head inside of Tuck Shop with me, and we assured our friends we’d meet them in the bar in just a couple of minutes.

It was the tiniest of shops, packed full of happy, sated eaters, and I just couldn’t wait to be one of them. I considered my options, and though tempted by the Guinness Steak & Mushroom Pie, I chose the Lamb Shank & Veg Pie. God, was it good. The crust was flaky and buttery, the filling moist and salty, dotted with juicy meat and tender vegetables.

Flaky crust + moist meat = perfection

We inhaled the pie and were on our way within a matter of minutes. Did it really happen? Oh, I hope so. Please say it did. I plan to head back to just be really, really sure, and I highly recommend you do, too.

Tuck Shop NYC, www.tuckshopnyc.com, 68 East 1st Street, between 1st & 2nd Avenues, New York, NY, 212-979-5200