oui oui

french food, jewish owner, polish waitresses.

at least we all get along. (now.)



cafe henri is sort of a staple in this small hood. bedford and downing. it's not quite the west village, not quite soho, and not quite greenwich village. maybe we sould become seperatists.

i will be the borough president. my first order will be to exile all college grads who are here for one year. just because you "lived" in new york for a year doesn't mean you accomplished something. a furnished sublet and a parent's credit card isn't quite surviving, now is it? the second order will be to plant grass on all the sidewalks and put signs up everywhere that say "please stay off the grass." boy, would that be fun. oh, and for sure there would be congestion pricing.

i digress. cafe henri has amazing strong coffee, but not burnt like charbucks. just perfectly black. they will even warm your milk for you.



i switch between the lemon and sugar crepe with strawberries, and the lamb marguez sandwich. both excellent. no matter what, i get a tartine. the baguette is soft inside, toasty outside, and served with butter and fresh fruit compote. they also have fresh squeezed orange juice. (careful, the other juices are from bottles).




that picture is icky.

other good things: ham & butter & cornichon sandwich, any omelette, granola & fruit & yogurt, goat cheese & leek crepe, croque monsieur.

marion was pleased she could have a cold glass of chardonnay. at 11am. diff'rent strokes for diff'rent folks (alcoholics).



i went there twice this weekend. happy all the time there, except for when this happens:



the restaurant is small. and it's like a mexican standoff when two chair backs hit each other. neither party wants to pull in. they think "why should i? let her pull in." then it gets nasty and pretend laughter erupts and the sitter thrusts back in hysterics banging the back of his chair into the back of your chair right as you sip your extra hot (because the milk was warmed) coffee and it splashes up your nose.

fourth order of business for fraulein president is to change chairs at cafe henri.

noho star.

that's one star.

no, just kidding. the food at this place is good. but something about it bothers me. whatever, who am i kidding. i am not the most pleasant person and there is ALWAYS something that bothers me.

i asked for iced tea. it was some jasmin green tea bullshit. green tea is BITTER and doesn't taste good. poison is not refreshing.

we split a tuna salad sandwich. of course i loved it because it had mayonnaise on it. tuna, avocado, tomato, mayo on toated whole wheat bread.



it was small though. we had a side of fries. GREAT fries. but i think i discovered i can't eat fried foods. you know...why.




still though. i can't believe we split a tiny sandwich, fries, and one poison tea and it came to $20. that is insane.

noho star

schnitzel. it's chicken.

ok, this place is so great. the food is so good. they serve breakfast all day. they put lemon slices ON your glass (not IN them). they are laid back without being lazy. i really should eat there more often. they even serve their bread with homemade vegetable cream cheese.






for those of you who aren't jews or nazis, schnitzel is chicken breast pounded real thin and breaded and fried and doused in lemon juice.



(nice photography, soraya. gross.) moving on...it comes with isreali salad and mashed potatoes with real chunks, and some magical mystery sauce. i think it is a blend of mayo and lemon juice and mustard. but i drink it, it's that good. probably good for your nails and skin and stuff, too.

soraya had french toast. they fucking picked a fruit forrest for that thing! 5 different fruits and none of them, not one, mushy.



i wish she had melons on that plate so i could say something funny. like, "look at soraya's tits!"

they take CC's. on macdougal street btwn houston and prince.

12 Chairs