Frenchman Alain Ducasse, the most Michelin-starred chef on the planet, has struggled for years to conquer New York. His first foray—an exorbitant haute cuisine showcase on Central Park South—suffered through lukewarm reviews and a revolving-door procession of executive chefs. In the end, Ducasse decided to close the place down. Adour, the new restaurant a few blocks south that rose to replace it, works overtime to correct the misjudgments of that first gilded endeavor. The dining room, by top designer David Rockwell, is opulent without being stuffy, with gauzy glass lining the walls like translucent wallpaper. And the city's snootiest service has given way to some of the warmest. The food, as serious as ever, is somehow more rewarding now that prices are verging on reasonable (entrees start at about $32). Dishes, ranging from delicate (butter-drenched ricotta gnocchi so tender they're almost liquid) to gutsy (caramelized pork belly with rich boudin noir), are at once gorgeous and completely lacking in pretense. Named for a river near Ducasse's hometown, the wine-centric restaurant offers an enormous and intriguing selection by the glass (with a baby-faced sommelier offering eager guidance). Save room, after your feather-light soufflé, for complimentary mini macaroons that are among the best in New York (or take them home to nibble for breakfast).

Open Sundays through Thursdays 5:30 to 10:30 pm, Fridays and Saturdays 5:30 to 11 pm.

If you haven't heard of Michael Psilakis, stay tuned, you will. The self-taught chef has been racking up national accolades since making his New York debut on the Upper West Side with the now-shuttered Onera, at the time the city's most ambitious Greek restaurant. Several years and restaurant projects later, he unveiled the more upscale Anthos in Midtown—perhaps the most creative Greek restaurant in America. The snug spot, minimally appointed with framed cherry-blossom prints, is warm and inviting with service to match. Still, you'll find the sorts of opulent flourishes that are standard issue in the city's high-end French restaurants but all but unheard of at places serving Hellenic cuisine (a bounty of predinner amuse-bouches, two types of butter with your bread). The rule-breaking menu, meanwhile, takes the traditional fare Psilakis grew up on into Iron Chef territory. You might encounter grilled sweetbreads paired—surprisingly well—with white chocolate and feta, raw and cooked lobster with lush seared foie gras, or fried cod nuggets with a rich, creamy dill-flecked risotto made with orzo rather than rice. Playful desserts like orange-blossom donuts filled with bergamot cream hew more closely to the traditional Greek palette.

Open Mondays through Thursdays noon to 10:30 pm, Fridays noon to 11 pm, and Saturdays 5 to 11 pm.

Former American presidents seated at table 3? Check. Beef cheek ravioli with crushed squab liver and black truffles served at table 6? Check. Large-and-in-charge man with red hair in a ponytail, shorts, and clogs walking the aisles? Check. Such is a typical night at Babbo, Mario Batali's perennially hot and rollicking restaurant just off Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village. Batali launched the place in 1998 with partner Joseph Bastianich, son of Lidia and a renowned vintner-restaurateur in his own right, and it was one of the first restaurants in New York to offer such an inventive and sophisticated take on Italian cuisine—with a voluminous wine list to match. The phones haven't stopped ringing since. Although the team recently opened the garish Del Posto (85 Tenth Ave.; 212-497-8090; www.delposto.com), Babbo (with its must-try pasta tasting menu) is still our favorite.

Pioneering locavore Peter Hoffman opened Back Forty in the East Village to spread the good word about New York's Greenmarket produce—and the good food he makes with it—to a younger, more budget-minded audience. (Savoy, his original, pricier Soho restaurant, has been packing them in since 1990.) The low-key neighborhood spot features minimal rustic decor (farm implements on the walls, a country mural behind the bar) and an abbreviated menu of hearty entrées and seasonal sides. Hoffman's superior burger is made with grass-fed beef, farmhouse Cheddar, and thick heritage pig bacon. His whole rotisserie chicken in a green-garlic marinade is a succulent centerpiece of a shareable feast. Among the earthy side dishes don't miss the rich cheese-drenched "drunken potato melt" or the unusual green wheat with minted yogurt. Wash it all down with one of a half-dozen New York beers or Back Forty's own wine, bottled specifically for the restaurant on the North Fork of Long Island.

Open Mondays through Thursdays 6 to 11 pm, Fridays and Saturdays 6 pm to midnight, and Sundays noon to 3:30 and 6 to 10 pm.

Balthazar reinvented the downtown hot spot when it opened in the late '90s, and it's already a New York classic. Impresario Keith McNally, still the reigning king of effortless restaurant cool, did such a fine job cloning a Beaux Arts Paris brasserie that Balthazar felt decades old the minute it opened. The spacious restaurant, serving breakfast, lunch, and dinner seven days a week, still gets its share of high-wattage diners like Kate Moss and Jude Law. Over the years, the straightforward, often delicious, bistro fare has remained as consistent as the crowds. The gargantuan shellfish platters are a dazzling indulgence, particularly with a bottle of chilled Muscadet. The steak tartare, zingy with mustard and capers, is among the best in town, as is the grill-marked steak with silky béarnaise and slim, greaseless frites. Though you'll no longer need a secret phone number to secure a table for dinner, you'll still probably want to book well in advance. The attached bakery offers top-notch French pastries and sandwiches to eat on the run.

Open Mondays through Thursdays 7:30 to 11:30 am, noon to 5 pm, and 5:45 pm to 1 am, Fridays 7:30 to 11:30 am, noon to 5 pm, and 5:45 pm to 2 am, Saturdays 8 am to 4 pm and 5:45 pm to 2 am, and Sundays 8 am to 4 pm and 5:30 pm to midnight.

Kurt Gutenbrunner, by far New York's most accomplished Austrian chef (there's not much competition), runs an ambitious jewel box restaurant in the West Village and an adorable café with superlative Viennese sweets at the Neue Galerie museum in Upper East Side. His third spot, a neighborhood restaurant way downtown in Tribeca, is his most casual and consistently endearing outpost. Wallpapered with art posters, the Austrian bistro traffics in simple hearty food presented with a touch of haute cuisine flair. Swing by weekday mornings for soufflé omelets and plump sugary donuts filled with apricot jam. Come lunchtime, grab a newspaper from the rack, pull up a seat at the oversize tin bar, and settle in with a frothy pint of lemony wheat beer and a plump bratwurst with kraut. More involved dinner entrées include pitch-perfect schnitzel and crisp-skinned trout fillets drizzled in brown butter and bright tarragon sauce. Rich desserts like Salzburger nockerl (pillowy meringue with tart huckleberries) are hard to pronounce but, oh, so easy to finish.

Open daily 11 am to midnight.

Blue Ribbon serves its entire enormous menu until 4 in the morning to night owls and chefs coming off of work. The Soho spot is the most popular of the Blue Ribbon empire, a chain of six Manhattan restaurants (plus three in Brooklyn) focusing on everything from sushi to comfort food to pastries. The candlelit brasserie with dark wood booths and a raw bar up front is the perfect place to indulge your nocturnal cravings, whether they be for raw oysters, roasted marrow bones, Southern fried chicken, or paella with chicken, chorizo, and lobster. Though the scene is rambunctious and the menu all over the map, the cooking is of a remarkably high quality, and we're not just talking by middle-of-the-night standards.

Open daily 4 pm to 4 am.

Though Tabla's fine-dining flagship does brisk expense account business combining Indian flavors with haute French technique, it's the more casual ground floor Bread Bar that's the real sleeper hit. This restaurant-within-a-restaurant features traditional Indian street food, updated—and elevated—by Bombay-born chef Floyd Cardoz. Join the after-work crowds at the warmly lit earth-toned bar or, in warm weather, at the sidewalk tables overlooking Madison Square Park for innovative cocktails (the Kachumber Kooler features green chiles, cilantro, and cucumber) paired with delicious snacks like cumin-scented Goan guacamole, green-mango-studded Bombay bhel puri, and flaky tandoor-baked breads filled with bacon and Cheddar. The combo platter that is available only at lunch—with vegetables, rice, bread, and proteins like banana-leaf-roasted fish—offers a bargain intro to Cardoz's refined modern take on Indian cooking. The Wazwan tasting menu, a $49 family-style feast featuring a huge selection of shareable dishes, is the best deal at dinner.

Open Mondays through Thursdays noon to 11 pm, Fridays and Saturdays noon to 11:30 pm, and Sundays 5 to 10 pm.

New York's Buddakan outpost—offshoot of the Philadelphia original—is the biggest, splashiest, most visually stunning of the big-box restaurants that have invaded the theme park–ish Meatpacking District. It is also among the most accessible with its intended-for-sharing pan-Asian fare and inviting lounge with less pricey bar menu. This gorgeous $13 million maze of a restaurant—the work of French design star Christian Liaigre—features an enclosed soaring centerpiece courtyard with baroque chandeliers and a communal table fit for Louis XIV. Request a seat downstairs in the library, lined in faux-golden books like Goldfinger's lair, then order up a feast of delicious lobster-stuffed egg roll cigars, chicken-filled General Tso's soup dumplings, and chile-glazed tempura rock shrimp.—Jay Cheshes

Open Sundays and Mondays 5:30 to 11 pm, Tuesdays and Wednesdays 5:30 pm to midnight, and Thursdays through Saturdays 5:30 pm to 1 am. Bar and lounge open Sundays through Tuesdays until 2 am, Wednesdays through Saturdays until 3 am.

A pizza revolution has been brewing in New York, with Neapolitan-style thin-crust beauties edging out the classic street slice. Co., in north Chelsea, helped kick off the trend, with fine, blistered pies handcrafted by cult baker Jim Lahey (longtime supplier of bread to some of the city's top restaurants) and finished off in an 800-degree oven. Though the food comes out fast and furious from the no-nonsense kitchen, you should still expect a considerable wait (up to 20 minutes) for a seat. Those seats, by the way, are strictly no-frills: picnic benches around communal wood tables. But the pizza, not the ambience, is the reason to come here (the menu also offers a smattering of salads, crostini, and charcuterie plates). Lahey's chewy crust, showered with toppings both classic (sausage, buffalo mozzarella) and newfangled (asparagus, black truffle, quail eggs), is among the best in New York.—Jay Cheshes

Open Mondays 5 to 11 pm, Tuesdays through Saturdays 11:30 am to 11 pm, and Sundays 11 am to 10 pm.

Tribeca restaurateur Drew Nieporent discovered David Bouley and helped put Nobu Matsuhisa on the New York food map. His latest show pony is wunderkind Paul Liebrandt. The star-crossed young British chef—he was best known for receiving three stars from The New York Times, then promptly losing his job—has hit his stride at Corton, a minimalist space that showcases his complex cuisine. Within the dining room's barely adorned white walls, you'll find some of the most assured haute cuisine in New York: gorgeous, delicious, and—at $79 for three courses—surprisingly reasonable (the wine list has many good values as well). Though the menu changes frequently, it always features the chef's signature In the Garden appetizer, a seasonal medley of boutique vegetables that's so inventive it'll win over even the most ardent carnivore. Liebrandt works wonders with meat and seafood as well, transforming squab breast into an ethereal slow-poached roulade (with black truffle and ginger jus) and combining candy-sweet scallops with shaved Marcona almonds and sushi-grade uni. Pastry chef Robert Truitt (an El Bulli veteran) offers desserts like passion-fruit brioche with brioche-infused ice cream, which easily keep pace with Liebrandt's savory magic.—Jay Cheshes

Open Mondays through Thursdays 5:30 to 10:30 pm, Fridays and Saturdays 5:30 to 11 pm.

Daniel Boulud is best known for his haute cuisine palace, Daniel, on the Upper East Side, but the French chef pretty much invented the high-end burger when he introduced a foie gras–stuffed version back in 2001 at his DB Bistro Moderne in Midtown. Now there's DBGB, Boulud's full-fledged foray into even more accessible fare. The enormous menu at this populist restaurant—the name is a play on legendary rock club CBGB, which was just up the street—features a few new Boulud burger creations (one features pork belly and melted Morbier cheese). But the headliners here are the international panoply of house-made sausages. The plump, flavorsome links, designed for tapas-style sharing, include earthy boudin, fiery merguez, and a smoked pork and Vermont cheddar creation. As befits a sausage and burger joint, beer is the big seller at DBGB, not wine. But those in the mood for more classic bistro fare can get their escargots and steak-frites fix as well.—Jay Cheshes

Open Mondays 5:30 to 11 pm, Tuesdays through Thursdays noon to 11 pm, Fridays noon to 1 am, Saturdays 11 am to 1 am, and Sundays 11 am to 11 pm.

Chinatown's most playfully modern dim sum parlor offers the traditional Chinese brunch from morning till night. The red and white facade may scream fast-food joint, but Dim Sum Go Go is a serious restaurant with a serious chef at the helm (Hong Kong– trained Guy Lieu). During the busy lunch rush expect long waits for a table in the spare bi-level dining room—followed by well-worth-it waits for the food, steamed to order instead of paraded on carts. Among the 45 savory dim sum options you'll find traditional offerings like pork shiu mai and plump shrimp har gow along with some of the city's most unusual, and visually stunning, dumpling creations. Delicate wrappers in hues of pink, yellow, and green encase bamboo heart, shark's fin, and roast shredded duck. Overcome option paralysis with the personal-steamer ten-dumpling sampler.

Open daily 10 am to 10:30 pm.

As much of a draw for the scene as for the food, Double Crown is a restaurant homage to the British Empire in Asia and a sprawling follow-up to Public and Monday Room in Nolita. Chef Brad Farmerie draws culinary inspiration from both Mother Britain and her former East Asian colonies, offering up elegant riffs on bangers and mash (featuring boar sausage and beet relish) and a classic Wellington (stuffed with elk instead of the usual tenderloin). The Raj gets a nod in a spicy side of garam masala potatoes. There are Singaporean laksas and Hong Kong–style steamed buns with duck. The eclectic cuisine reflects the decor, which features a vibrant hodgepodge of far-flung knickknacks (Fu dogs, soapstone lanterns from India) courtesy of restaurant designers du jour AvroKo, who also co-own the joint. The party in the annex bar—a cozy shoebox dubbed Madam Geneva, where hip young things huddle around shareable nibbles and potent old-school libations (Pimm's Cups, Singapore Slings)—often spills into the main dining room. On weekends, hungover brunches segue into afternoon parties with boozy high teas, complete with crusts-off sandwiches, clotted cream scones, and gin-spiked Earl Grey.—Jay Cheshes

Open Mondays through Thursdays 6 to 11 pm, Fridays 6 pm to 12 am, Saturdays 11 am to 12 am, and Sundays 11 am to 11 pm.

Beyond bagels and lox, the Upper West Side has long been one of New York's least exciting food neighborhoods. Though a few high-end restaurants have survived and thrived over the years, it wasn't until John Fraser opened Dovetail near the Museum of Natural History that the area really got New York foodies buzzing. You'll have to reserve at least a week ahead to score a seat in the low-slung modern space behind a barely marked door with tablecloth-free candlelit tables and a casual jeans-with-heels vibe (it's still the Upper West Side after all). Fraser's upscale American food is just safe enough to captivate even the most timid neighborhood palates. A delicious gnocchi starter, featuring corned beef and cabbage, plays to his audience while still managing to be refined and distinct. Beautifully seared cod in a bowl of deconstructed chowder is mostly an excuse to spoil us with bacon, bacon, and more bacon. Desserts, like a peanut butter candy bar on a bed of crumbled pretzels, are equally crowd-pleasing, if a tad on the quirky side.

Open Mondays through Saturdays 5:30 to 11 pm, Sundays 5:30 to 10 pm.

Hardly a restaurant, this sliver of space in the part of Chinatown that bleeds into the Lower East Side makes and sells fabulous dumplings. These little parcels are notable not only for their impossibly crisp bottoms and luscious pork-and-chive filling but also for their unbeatable price-to-tastiness ratio: Five cost just $1. Compared with that deal, a triangular slice of puffy, golden sesame pancake split horizontally and laid with preserved beef, pickled carrots, and cilantro sprigs seems like a splurge at a buck fifty. The decor is not just no-frills but virtually nonexistent, so hunker down at one of a half dozen stools at the counter in the back if you must. Or better still, lug your cheap feast a block west to the park.

El Quinto Pino may be New York's most authentic tapas bar, as frenetic and cramped as the best spots in Madrid. An offshoot of the larger Tía Pol, this sliver of a restaurant offers few surfaces to dine on (just a bar-top and ledges) and even fewer places to sit. Still, the small plates of fried, grilled, and marinated morsels are hard to resist, particularly after a few glasses of chilled Txakoli (an effervescent Basque vintage from the all-Spanish wine list). You'll come for a snack but end up staying for dinner. Share crisp salt-cod beignets, anchovy fillets, and the irresistible signature sea urchin panino. Though there are no sweets scribbled onto the menu above the bar, insiders know to request the unadvertised casadielles, delicious fried ravioli with walnuts and honey.

Open Sundays through Thursdays 5 pm to midnight, Fridays and Saturdays 5 pm to 1 am.

You might not expect an austere-looking fish place near the Port Authority Bus Terminal to be a hot table for six years running, but Esca—the name means "bait"—is still reeling in the foodies. Its success has as much to do with its big-name backers (Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich) as it does with its chef/owner: David Pasternack grew up fishing on Long Island and still catches much of what he cooks up in the kitchen—if it's cooked at all. His specialty is crudo, best described as the Italian love child of sushi and ceviche: bite-size pieces of raw big-eye tuna with unfiltered olive oil and chives, say, or sweet Nantucket bay scallops with olive oil, lemon juice, sea salt, and chervil. From there, things get progressively hotter, both in temperature and kick. Our favorites include the grilled octopus with preserved lemon and corona beans; spaghetti with lobster, chilis, and mint; and the day's catch, grilled and served with salsa verde. The all-Italian wine list promotes lesser-known varietals, but the sommelier is as approachable as you'd expect from a branch of the populist Batali empire.

Esca is our top choice for pre- and post-theater dining, but if it's booked solid (call up to a month in advance), avoid Restaurant Row, the block of W. 46th St. between Eighth and Ninth avenues, lined with brownstones and mediocre food. Head slightly farther afield instead: ViceVersa has interesting but solid pasta (325 W. 51st St., 212-399-9291; www.viceversarestaurant.com); Sushi Zenflies in fish daily from Japan (108 W. 44th St., 212-302-0707; www.sushizen-ny.com); and the ethnic joints on Ninth Avenue—Thai, Puerto Rican, Greek, you name it—are cheerful, reliable, and cheap.

Before building a cult following in New York, Chef Zak Pelaccio lived for a time in Malaysia. The country's street food, served up at this casual West Village roadhouse, caters directly to his fan base. The squeamish and spice-averse might look elsewhere for dinner; these dishes are rich, fiery, complex, fatty, and messy. Intense, tangy aromas infuse the cramped dining room, with its lacquer-red walls and lazily spinning ceiling fans; the hip young waitstaff delivers small plates—perfect for sharing—from the tiny kitchen as soon as they're ready. Tart pickled watermelon contrasts with luscious cubes of crispy pork belly; various spicy sambals top delicate quail-egg shooters; and slices of green mango are served with an evilly addictive dipping powder of chili, sugar, and salt. The delicious main courses, like the pile of sticky-sweet chicken wings, or hunks of Fatty Duck (steamed, then fried), are ten-napkin affairs. Indeed, the specialty of the house, chili crab, nearly requires foul-weather gear; there's nothing to do but surrender to the mess, lick your fingers, and wash everything down with a cold, economy-size Hitachino beer.

After more than 20 years, Greenwich Village institution Gotham Bar and Grill still feels like New York's most expertly run bustling restaurant. A destination for birthdays, anniversaries, and expense account feasts, the lofty dining room—with light fixtures festooned in white parachute fabric—remains as inviting as the day that it opened. Though founding chef Alfred Portale has neither an empire (Gotham is his only restaurant) nor a show on TV, he is widely recognized by his peers as one of the most influential chefs in America (half the restaurants in New York are manned by Gotham alums). Portale, who all but invented vertical food presentation, is best known for his precarious, towering, seasonal compositions. A slice of silky pistachio-studded foie gras terrine leans, like a charcuterie Tower of Pisa, against a boutique lettuce mountain; roasted butter-drenched lobster in its split shell stands tall atop a jasmine rice molehill with fragrant puddles of coconut nage and bouillabaisse sauce. Desserts—like an indulgent pair of chocolate peanut butter bars—tend to be more homey, and horizontal. Service here is as precise as a German automobile but never fussy or formal.

Open Mondays through Thursdays noon to 10 pm, Fridays noon to 11 pm, Saturdays 5 to 11 pm, and Sundays 5 to 10 pm.

The word "Szechuan" may appear frequently on restaurants' facades, but rarely do these places serve anything resembling the exquisite food of China's Sichuan Province. Yet the cuisine's complex flavors and textures (along with mouth-numbing heat) are on display at this location of Grand Sichuan, the best of several branches scattered throughout Manhattan (this one's in Hell's Kitchen). Skip the obviously Americanized offerings, as well as any other dish that whiffs of your typical Cantonese or Shanghainese restaurant, and head straight for strips of double-cooked pork sautéed with salty bean paste; sweet, fiery Gui Zhou chicken; and the bizarre and wonderful sour string beans with minced pork, a play on spicy and tangy that will redefine your notion of what Chinese food can be.

Everyone knows the real deals are in Chinatown, from fake designer bags to restaurants like this fluorescent-lit feeding pit that's crowded till the 3 a.m. closing. Compensating for the dingy decor and slapdash service are authentic Hong Kong–style dishes such as salt-baked soft-shell crab, duck with flowering chives, wonderful noodle dishes, and killer suckling pig with fragile, crunchy skin.

First there was 'ino, a tiny, charming West Village panini bar (21 Bedford St.; 212-989-5769; www.cafeino.com). Then there was 'inoteca, a newer, larger, equally charming crosstown sibling with huge windows, wooden tables, and shelves stocked with well-priced Italian wines. It was so successful, it spawned yet another outpost on 3rd Avenue and 24th Street. Order a carafe of Sicilian red and enjoy a plate of eggplant lasagna, fried shrimp wrapped in pancetta, or a voluptuous grilled sandwich of chocolate Nutella spread on firm white bread. Hangover sufferers swear by the breakfast panino of scrambled eggs, mortadella, and basil pesto.

Open since 1997, Jean-Georges Vongerichten's signature restaurant on Columbus Circle remains one of the world's greatest, despite the fact that the jet-setting chef's ever-expanding empire now comprises 17 restaurants across the globe. The nexus of this greatness springs from the master himself, who is often in the kitchen, checking plates as they go out. In the elegant dining room (resplendent in quiet beiges and whites with floor-to-ceiling windows), Vongerichten's army of impeccably trained waitstaff flits about, spooning Château Chalon sauce over turbot and rich jus over squab. The experience is swoon-worthy and you're charged accordingly, though thanks to the gently priced lunch (one of the city's best bargains) and the more casual Nougatine next door, even mere mortals can join the fun.

Gorgeous sushi, superb sake, and impeccable service keep drawing diners to this pricey-but-worth-it bamboo-lined tunnel. It's owned by entrepreneurial cute couple Jack and Grace Lamb, whose rapidly expanding East Village empire also includes Degustation Wine & Tasting Bar (239 E. Fifth St.) and Jack's Luxury Oyster Bar (101 Second Ave.). If you can score a seat at the sushi bar, you're golden. (Reservations for all three: 212-979-1012.)

Sure, it's tacky, noisy, and rushed. Sure, the Formica is worn, the service gruff, and the sandwiches way too big. But New York wouldn't be New York without this classic Lower East Side Jewish deli and its kosher-style corned beef, chopped liver, and pastrami. Remember When Harry Met Sally? This is where the "I'll have what she's having" scene was filmed. P.S. Don't forget to tip your carver.

How do you stay on top for more than ten years? Ask Le Bernardin chef Eric Ripert, a technician with the heart of an artist. Months after Gilbert Le Coze opened this elegant fish restaurant in 1986, it got four stars from The New York Times. After Le Coze died, Ripert took over, and it hasn't missed a step since. If this very grown-up Midtown place remains the one to beat despite astronomical prices and what many consider a too-sedate corporate decor, it's because of Ripert's always-evolving menu, which includes such worldly dishes as lobster in lemon-miso broth and masala-spiced crispy black bass. Go for broke with the $155 chef's tasting menu. You won't regret it.

Closed Sundays.

The Greenwich Hotel, Robert De Niro's first starring role as a hotelier, has been a smash hit, but the restaurant, Ago, was an immediate flop. The actor wisely responded by shuttering the place and reopening months later with a new name and new chef. Locanda Verde is not just an improvement on its ghost-town predecessor, it's one of the city's most popular new restaurants. Andrew Carmellini, its immensely talented Italian-American chef, creates lusty, family-style food intended for sharing—this is a trattoria best enjoyed with a hungry group. Everything—from charred octopus to heaping bowls of red-sauce pasta to hearty platters of roast porchetta and chicken—arrives in the center of the table. Pass the dishes around for a Sunday-supper banquet any night of the week.—Jay Cheshes

Open daily 7 am to 11 pm.

Masa Takayama sold Ginza Sushiko, his Beverly Hills restaurant, to open this austere space. The tasting menu costs $400 before you take a sip of sake, but for fans, that's simply the price of perfection: Masa has been known to jet over to Japan to choose his impeccable fish. The question is: Does he have enough deep-pocketed devotees to fill the restaurant on a regular basis? There are only ten spots at the 27-foot-long sushi bar—the place to be if you want to see the maestro himself in action—and 16 more at the widely spaced tables, and yet rumors of empty seats are already circulating.

Restaurateur Keith McNally (Balthazar, Pastis) ought to teach classes on building restaurant buzz. The moment it opened in March 2009, Minetta Tavern became New York's latest restaurant sensation and its hardest reservation to score. The original Minetta Tavern—haunt of starlets, boxers, and beatnik writers back in the '40s and '50s—had fallen on hard times by the time McNally swept in and spiffed up the original decor. The restaurant still offers a window on a long-vanished West Village, but the bygone celebrities pictured in the frayed snapshots and caricatures lining the walls stare out on their modern-day counterparts. Despite the nightly star power, the menu—classic steak house meets neighborhood bistro—was designed with the recession in mind: not cheap, but reasonably priced. The homey fare includes roasted beef bones oozing scalding marrow; roast chicken; pig's trotter; giant grilled steaks and chops; and the city's most talked-about burger, a $26 dry-aged masterpiece that tastes like a ground-up porterhouse steak. To score a prime time-table, try your luck with a walk-in—or find a friend who's got a line on the super-secret private reservation number.—Jay Cheshes

Open daily 5:30 pm to 2 am.

How could The Modern not be hot? Located in the renovated and expanded Museum of Modern Art, the restaurant was created by Danny Meyer, proprietor of perennial favorite Union Square Cafe, and Alsatian chef Gabriel Kreuther of Atelier. In this stark white-walled space, they made not one but two restaurants: a hip, casual Bar Room and a refined dining room whose windows overlook the sculpture garden's Calders, Mirós, and Picassos. The Bar Room's menu of small plates is already the favorite with diners, but both spaces have ravishing Danish modern settings and Meyer's famously perfect service. Can't score a table? About half the seats in the Bar Room are first-come, first-serve.

You don't come to this little spot near City Hall for the atmosphere: 1970s cafeteria crossed with Saigon airline café. You don't come for the service: fast at best, unfriendly at worst. Rather, you come for the food—soft-shell crabs, lightly battered and tarted up with onions and basil; overflowing bowls of pho packed with rice noodles, scallions, and beef; and barbecued pork chops that are plainly done but sweet and eminently satisfying. As one of the longtime (and friendly) waiters says when he brings out the food, "Nummy, nummy."

Downtown design firm AvroKO transformed the once stuffy Park Avenue Cafe into one of the city's most dynamic high-concept restaurants. Every three months, the dining room undergoes a head-to-toe seasonal metamorphosis, swapping out everything from the cushions to the wall panels to the hanging decor. During the restaurant's blond-wood beach-shack summer quarter, chef Craig Koketsu's intensely seasonal menu focuses on greenmarket staples like sweet corn and summer peaches (with plump seared scallops). Come copper-toned Autumn, look for wild mushrooms (with an enormous veal chop) and Hudson Valley quail bought directly from the hunter who shot them. Pastry chef Richard Leach, a star in his own right, produces some of the city's most homey high-end desserts, summer's banana parfait with peanuts and mango giving way come fall to a confit'd bartlett pear with brown-butter cake.

Open Mondays through Thursdays 11:30 am to 3 pm and 5:30 to 10 pm, Fridays 11:30 am to 3 pm and 5:30 to 11 pm, Saturdays 11 am to 3 pm and 5:30 to 11 pm, and Sundays 11 am to 3 pm and 5 to 9 pm.

The too-tight space has been doubled, but chances are you'll still have to wait on line outside to secure a spot at the squeaky-clean counter and eat silky clam chowder, mayonnaise-drenched lobster rolls, fried fish sandwiches, and blueberry crumble. You'll swear you can almost taste the salt air. Who knew the West Village could be so much like New England?

Real Peking duck is a thing of beauty. No New York restaurant does better by this traditional delicacy—or serves more of it—than the original Chinatown Peking Duck House. Refurbished a few years back with a new paint job and mood lighting, this once grungy restaurant is now as elegant and inviting as its famous fowl. Start with meaty Shanghai soup dumplings then move on to the main event (a whole duck serves three or four). The burnished bird emerges from the kitchen with considerable fanfare. Dismembered tableside by a skilled chef clutching an enormous cleaver, its crisp skin is laid out on a platter surrounding the thinly sliced meat. Grab a warm rice-flour pancake from an enormous steamer, lay down a layer of hoisin sauce, cucumber, scallion, duck meat, and skin. Then roll up your package, bite down, and swoon. While there's a full menu on offer, duck is the reason you're here.

Open Sundays through Thursdays 11:30 am to 10:30 pm, Fridays and Saturdays 11:30 am to 11:30 pm.

Can't get a reservation at Thomas Keller's quasi-mythic French Laundry in the Napa Valley? You probably won't land one here, either. You aren't even allowed to call until two months in advance of your requested date. (Try for lunch, or in July and August, when New Yorkers tend to ditch town. Tables for two are the first to book solid, so larger parties may have more luck.) The space hints at California rusticity with a fireplace, but the overall tone is sober (this is Serious Food, you know), and the pricey, French-influenced menus are strictly big city ($275 for nine courses, not including wine, with a smaller a la carte menu on offer in the lounge). A notorious perfectionist, Keller devises small-bite tasting menus that include plenty of lavish ingredients: You'll probably get the famous "oysters and pearls" (oysters with tapioca and caviar), lobster tail, and an endless stream of sweets. The staff is extraordinarily knowledgeable and relaxed, which is a good thing, since meals can last up to four hours. Only a chef of this caliber could expect time-stressed New Yorkers to sit still for that long. The surprise is that they seem to be doing just that.

Resist the urge to call it adorable. Yes, this East Village place is tiny and homey, and yes, the staff is almost all female, but chef Gabrielle Hamilton turns out big-flavored, decidedly noncutesy dishes such as pastrami duck breast and suckling pig. At brunch, you can choose from nine Bloody Marys and order spaghetti carbonara or grilled merguez with oysters for the ultimate anti-eggs-Benedict experience.

Scarpetta is an unusual addition to Manhattan's Meatpacking District, home to too many overhyped, overdone, overrun velvet rope restaurants. At this inviting modern trattoria you won't have to fight your way past a clipboard gatekeeper or pay through the nose for just passable food. Instead, expect polished professional service, a real foodie crowd, and some of the city's most heavenly pasta (don't miss the Marsala-sauced duck and foie gras–filled ravioli). Chef-owner Scott Conant, one of New York's most celebrated Italian chefs, pulled a Houdini act a while back abandoning his restaurants in Midtown (Alto and L'Impero) before reappearing a year later with this new Downtown spot. The airy wood-shrouded dining room features a retractable roof, offering exhaust-free alfresco dining. Entrées, like fork-tender roast baby chicken in a sauce made from its liver, tend to be more earthy and rustic than the delicate pastas. Desserts, including a delicious caramelized apple tart with a polenta crust, find a more solid middle ground between upscale and homey.

Open Sundays through Thursdays 5:30 to 11:30 pm, Fridays and Saturdays 5:30 pm to midnight.

So beloved is Danny Meyer's pedestrian-powered New York version of a '50s drive-in that its website displays live feeds from a Shack-cam that lets you track the unrelentingly long line snaking through Madison Square Park. Whatever its length, it's bearable, because what awaits you is a juicy (okay, greasy, but in a good way) griddle-cooked combo of hand-chopped sirloin and brisket that's topped with cheese (American, of course), garlicky mayo-based Shack Sauce, lettuce, and tomatoes. And besides, your wait gives you ample time to decide on a plan of attack: Do you get a single burger and leave room for fries and a large custard? Or a double, plus a hot dog and a Concrete Jungle (whirled custard, peanut butter, hot fudge, and bananas)? We'll let you decide, and in the meantime, we'll see you on line.

Closed December–March.

When chef April Bloomfield (an alum of London's River Café) opened this happening West Village boîte in 2004 with Mario Batali as a backer, New Yorkers discovered the great joys of the gastropub, a brilliant British invention that joins convivial neighborhood bar with far-above-average food. A recent expansion has helped ease the legendary waits, but the Pig is still packed with herds of yuppies and hipsters clamoring for Bloomfield's spectacular gnudi (delicate ricotta dumplings splashed with vibrant pesto), and the rest of her inventive menu of upscale pub grub (a burger slapped with Roquefort; the best smoked haddock chowder this side of Scotland). Wash it all down with a pint of one of the hand-drawn house ales.

Sushi Yasuda is one of New York's top destinations for raw fish as unadulterated edible art. Floors, walls, and ceilings of blond bamboo planks make up this Zen aerie, two blocks from the UN in Midtown's Little Tokyo. The best seats are at the matching blond bar where sushi master Naomichi Yasuda and his cohorts work their magic, depositing pristine bite-size morsels on banana leaves rather than plates. The enormous selection of fish—with nearly three dozen species, it's among New York's most comprehensive—includes the sweetest eel, the most bracing oysters, the silkiest hamachi, and the fattiest wild salmon and toro. Though you can easily blow a bundle ordering your fish à la carte (the preferred purist option if money's no object), with platters starting at around $20, a visit to Yasuda need not break the bank.

Open Mondays through Fridays noon to 10:15 pm, Saturdays 6 to 10:15 pm.

On a pretty, tree-lined stretch of the West Village, this cafe is loved as much for its B.Y.O.B. policy as its easy-on-the-wallet Americanized French bistro fare. A young, casual crowd regularly queues up out front, chatting with each other as they gaze expectantly at seated guests chowing down on cheesy French onion soup; cheesier croque monsieurs; creamy and crusty chicken pot pie; and addictive frites. Of course there is a catch: There isn't much breathing room in the nautical-themed interior (blond wood-paneled walls, maritime pictures, and a collection of miniature lighthouses), and it's tight on the narrow sidewalk patio, too. Reservations are not accepted, and the lines sometimes verge on the absurd, especially in summer, but the convivial staff will uncork your wine bottle and proffer glasses while you wait. (The closest liquor store is Manley's Wines & Spirits at 35 Eighth Ave.; just walk up W. Fourth St., with the traffic, until you hit Eighth.)

Across the street from David Bouley's cavernous temple of haute cuisine is his charming three-level market-cum-bakery-cum-restaurant. The top floor houses a quirky, airy little café with two walls of windows, tightly spaced tables, and an open kitchen, which turns out the chef's take on a wide array of cuisines (French, Italian, Japanese, New American). And the price is right: Nothing on the menu tops $21, with most main dishes firmly under that mark. If we lived in Tribeca, we just might be here every night, feasting on perfectly cooked Chatham Bay cod with buttery, earthy chanterelles, fresh sweet peas, and tarragon sauce or delicate house-made tofu with smoky dashi and wild mushrooms. Creative cocktails from Albert Trummer, luscious seasonal desserts, and the occasional sighting of the great chef himself at the stove seal the deal.

Tom Valenti, the godfather of fine dining on the Upper West Side, opened the neighborhood's first real destination restaurant, Ouest, back in 2002. In 2008, the chef offered his fans West Branch, a much more affordable option just up the street. The sprawling spot features a menu as vast as an old-fashioned Greek diner's, with choices ranging from comfort-food crowd-pleasers (a top-notch burger, the city's best fish and chips) to more daring options like braised duck gizzards with grilled duck hearts. Though the dining room, with its dark wood trim and standard-issue bistro tables, won't win any design awards, the food has across-the-board appeal, making it great for everything from a post-museum bite with the kids to a cozy weeknight dinner for two.—Jay Cheshes

Open Mondays through Thursdays 7:30 am to 11 pm, Fridays 7:30 am to midnight, Saturdays 11 am to 3 pm and 5 to 11 pm, and Sundays 11 am to 10 pm.