Dubbed for a Revolutionary War hero, Elijah Churchill’s Public House awards stalwart appetites with a hearty menu of pub-style plates flanked with pints of bottomless soda. Pairs can shush stomach duets with forays into twin starters, exchanging coy glances over Pernod oysters slinking in the half shell behind spinach-panko veils, or plucking commas of Cajun-spiced shrimp from a bed of grammatically correct field greens. Tureens of authentic Guinness stew introduce turf-bound beef to a tide pool of Burgundy gravy, while stuffed sole platters pry eyes away from the crackling fireplace by juggling chunks of crab and scallop beneath drizzles of lemon pepper sauce.
The epicurean experts at The New Jade Palace twirl noodles, pyramid rice, and simmer seafood to construct a menu replete with traditional Asian favorites. Spoons dip into roast-pork wonton soup ($2 for a small, $3.50 for a large) to warm up for the tang of thai red snapper ($16) that, like the charge of an incompetent pet groomer, bathes in sweet chili sauce. Noodles knot around each other to hold beef or shrimp hostage ($5 for a small, $9 for a large), and the crispy skin of peking duck ($30) crackles inside a wrapping of scallion pancakes. The sushi bar encourages patrons to savor combinations of spicy maki ($14) or dive chopsticks-first into 12-piece tricolor sushi plates of tuna, salmon, and yellowtail ($20). Vegetarian taste buds linger on eggplant lathered in garlic sauce ($8) long enough to be accused of loitering.
Mexican food is known for dynamic flavors, which range from big spice to palate-soothing cilantro. It's fitting then, that Cilantro restaurant should represent its Mexican-inspired food flare with equally rich decor. Bright-green and cotton-candy-pink walls play backdrop to equally fierce Day of the Dead artwork. But that's not to say the place isn't kid-friendly. Cilantro is a vibrant hub for all ages, who flock to the restaurant for fajitas, tacos, and burritos filled with the ingredients of their choice, such as sweet-chipotle pork or vegetarian chili made with eggplant, peppers, and onion.
The treats may be frozen, but that doesn't mean they're not flexible. That's because the colorful self-serve dispensers that line Yogurt Crazy’s bright purple walls are equipped to send a rotating lineup of 12 different frozen-yogurt flavors into cups, including nonfat, low-fat, and dairy-free varieties. Guests mix and match their own creations, choosing from flavors as diverse as pomegranate-raspberry tart and Heath toffee. Each swirl of yogurt can then be outfitted with kiwi, Reese's Pieces, and other selections from the topping bar’s 36 mix-ins, which means that patrons can customize their frozen desserts without the gooey mess of branding them with a hot iron.
Every day, custardologists at Wolfies hand-mix 20 batches of creamy frozen treats, displaying their colorful creations for customers to stack into cones or sprinkle with toppings, earning the sweeterie a feature in the New York Times. Freshly churned custard has less fat than does ice cream and less air than a flat tire on Mars, helping to create Wolfies' signature ultracreamy scoop. Great filler for cones ($4.50/two scoops), pints ($6), and milk shakes ($4.50/16 oz.), Wolfies' 50 regularly appearing flavors include hazelnut, blueberry, and mango. The menu tempts sweet teeth by arranging the embellished custards in three-scoop banana splits ($5.53) and coffee-blended Wolf Caffes ($4.50/16 oz). The Screamwich ($3.50) realizes the dream sandwich of childhood with its filling of rich custard enclosed in chocolate-chip cookies with crusts cut off for optimum enjoyment.