I committed the deadly sin of gluttony last night when I decided to indulge in the supposedly "best" burgers in New York for dinner at Burger Joint. All I can say is that sacrificing those calories was well worth every bite.

The overall experience added to the satisfaction. It was similar to my endeavors last week when I visited several hidden restaurants and bars, except this time, the location was concealed inside a posh hotel.

Photo by Joelogon

Jackie and I confidently walked through the busy entrance of Le Parker Meridien, as if we were hotel guests returning to our loft. But of course, when we stepped foot inside the open lobby, Burger Joint was nowhere in sight. I discretely asked the concierge where to go, and he kindly told me to follow the draping red velvet curtains to my right. We turned the corner, and there it was - the bright neon burger.

I felt as if I was in a mom and pop burger joint with New York accents mixed in.

The rules at Burger Joint are plain and simple. Customers are to walk up to the counter and quickly give their order, while surrounded by store-bought Arnold's hamburger buns, jugs of pickles, ketchup and grade A Grey Poupon, and Dracula and Wonder Woman chotchkies. If you don't know what you want, you walk to the back of the line.

Thank God it wasn't too busy because Jac and I needed time to make out the words on all of the handwritten cardboard signs: Cash Only; Step 1: hamburger or cheeseburger, Step 2: how you want it cooked, Step 3: the toppings; and a list of drinks ranging from Sam Adams to frothy milk shakes.

Photo by VirtualErn

"Burger, medium, lettuce, tomato, ketchup, fries and a brownie," I called out. I felt like a fat pro, but I needed to try everything! Jac ordered a cheeseburger with "the works" - lettuce, tomato, onions, mayo, mustard, ketchup, pickles - and a Sam Adams.

My paper-wrapped burger was in my hand in maybe 17 seconds; shortly after came my greasy brown paper bag of fries; and then I grabbed a self-serve brownie from the stacked-high brownie bin, all for a mere $13!

Luckily the turnover is nice and fast, so Jac and I were able to snatch a booth in the corner. Burgers, bag of fries, brownie and a clear plastic cup filled to the brim with Sam Adams. Who needs plates, utensils, glasses or waiters? We sure didn't. Napkins and hands are the essentials.

The burgers were so juicy, the fries crispy and thin, and the brownie so cake-like. The expressions on our faces said it all: Burger Joint serves ridiculously good burgers.

From my angle, I was able to get a view of the entire joint and really appreciate its shantiness. With country, oldies and Arab-like music playing in my ears, I scanned the hotel guests, businessmen and walk-ins off the street munching away on their chow. I was cornered by thumbtacked signs, hanging framed newspaper and magazine reviews, Sex and the City, Ratatouille and Cheech & Chong posters, and celebrity signatures ranging from Whitney Houston to Leona Lewis. The total atmosphere was great and made the food taste even better.

After absorbing the entirety of the dive and digesting our delicious dinner, we collected our remnants, chucked them in the garbage, and got up from our comfy booth. Two hungry customers were eagerly waiting to fill our seats.

There is no excuse not to experience the taste of Burger Joint because it's conveniently open all hours of the day. Dress casual, come hungry and enjoy New York's best burgers.

BURGER JOINT; Le Parker Meridien; 18 W 57th St. New York.

Go further: Read about how Paris goes bonkers for burgers.

Affordable vintage jewelry is usually difficult to find. We all wish we could just raid our grandma's old jewelry boxes and throw on her stash with today's modern fashions. In Pippin, however, it's hard not to walk out with cheap antique charms.

Located on West 17th Street, a block known for vintage, thrift and antique shops, Pippin houses an array of funky one-of-a-kinds. The buyers purchase their entire inventory and restock the boutique with new selections each week.

They've even created their own line, called Reverie, known for its original artwork of combined vintage pieces.

One cool aspect about Pippin is that you'll always know where your vintage finds have originated from. On the white price stickers are the cost on one side and the date of the item on the reverse.

I bought a gorgeous 1930's/1940's bracelet yesterday for only $24! And not only will you find jewelry, but also vintage hats and handbags.

I'm always sure to be bare-skinned when entering Pippin, because I know my fingers, wrists and neck will most certainly be adorned when walking out.

Be sure to peek into Pippin Home, the treasure chest right next door.

PIPPEN; 112 & 1121⁄2 West 17th Street, New York, NY

Now that New Yorkers seem to swear by multi-dating - seeing as many people at the same time as at all possible - I don't quite get why New York men haven't figured out that the best place to meet hot women are the city's flea markets.

Every weekend New York becomes an all-you-can-eat buffet of flea markets and street vendors selling vintage items. And right there, in-between old lamps and second-hand dresses, you spot the top models that you normally only see in Elle and Vogue magazine rummaging through piles of old stuff, matching it with their enviable ‘freebees’ given to them by their ‘best friends forever’, Zac Posen, Michael Kors and Marc Jacobs.

Of course, you ogle their gorgeous long legs, but tear yourself away from that for a while and take notice of the way these fashionistas mix and match. I often bring my camera when I vintage shop. And the long-legged creatures are not the only customers worth watching - the wackiest people from all over the world are trying to sell you anything from office chairs and old buttons to amazing shoes and sparkling jewelry.

Of course you have to haggle. That's a given. But New York vendors are hardcore. They know that vintage is ‘must-does’ nowadays and the times of true finds are over. The day that I managed to beat down the price of a tan Marni leather coat to 150 dollars was one to remember. If you're not in the mood to spend your cash on over-priced junk, the flea markets can still be great places to just take in the atmosphere of colors, sounds and smells. That's one of my favorite ways to pass the time, anyway. 
 

Last night I explored the hidden nooks and crannies within New York's lively city streets. Always be observant when strolling down city blocks, because you just may walk past something worth discovering.

La Esquina

Corner of Cleveland and Kenmare: where people of all paths and walks of life meet for some good ol' corn on the cob - La Esquina-style of course. I was surprised my friend Jac and I were able to snatch a reservation during Fashion Week at La Esquina (meaning "corner" in Spanish), but we managed a 6:30 spot.

We walked into the Cafe-Taqueria and were escorted down a flight of stairs and through the restaurant's aromatic kitchen, where the busy cooks themselves directed us into the cellar - an obscure gothic-style bar and dining area.

The young hostess seated us at our perfect deuce near the rear of the restaurant, facing the surrounding fashionistas and city natives, busboys wearing "Mexico" shirts, and food runners sporting "Obama '08" t-shirts righteously so. One waiter was styling with his tight black vest and white undershirt, tattooed arms and a stripe of blue running through the back of his hair.

Mismatched vintage wooden chairs, FIRE and Corona Extra buckets hanging from the ceiling, stonewashed brick walls, tiled art, and iron gates, all stirred up the medieval-dungeon-feel. 
 
Not only did the hip village staff and equally suited decor create the unique La Esquina atmosphere, the gourmet grub and signature drinks contributed as well. We sampled the savory staples: the grilled string beans, sweet corn on the cob rolled in grated Cotija cheese and chili powder, and Mexican corn truffle quesadillas paired with a fiery chipotle sauce. As for margaritas, over 200 tequilas to choose from with prized ones, such as the 1941 Don Julio, costing as much as $150 a shot!

And if that wasn't impressive and delicious enough for us, our waitress ended our night with a complimentary decadent Mexican chocolate espresso-filled cake topped with crème fresh ice cream - all because she thought I needed to taste the best dessert for my article. The perks of writing for Momondo ;)

La Esquina; 106 Kenmare St. and Cleveland Pl. Soho, New York.

Crif Dogs ... PDT (Please Don't Tell)

Next spot we scoped out was the East Village's Crif Dogs, known for its deep-fried Jersey-style hot dogs and hush hush phone booth.

When you walk into Crif Dogs, it looks like an ordinary hot dog shop with customers giving their orders at the counter, ketchup and mustard bottles on the tables and stools lined up along the wall.

But then you turn to the left and walk into the peculiar phone booth ...

I picked up the white telephone inside and pushed a button. The hostess answered and led us into the small speakeasy, Please Don't Tell. Black curtains, black leather seats, round wooden tables, stuffed animal heads on the brick walls - poor rabbit, bear, raccoon and owl - and lamps above the tables that made me feel as though I was about to get my palm read by a psychic.

The bathroom was even cool. Mosaic walls of shattered glass reflecting everything inside. Then the cool menus: black and leather with the surprisingly recurring Obama theme for the night. A beer was called the Sixpoint Hop Obama! But instead we chose to try PDT's specialty: absinthe.

The waitress brought us the Absinthe Cocktail and the Corpse Reviver #2, which featured the special absinthe spray technique for a faint black licorice aftertaste.  Absinthe is definitely an acquired taste.

We couldn't leave without sampling the famous Crif dogs, so we ordered The Wylie Dog, which was a deep-fried hot dog with ketchup molasses, but without the fried mayo (ew!), and The Hummer, a grilled veggie dog topped with hummus, to make our unhealthy snack seem a bit more nutritious. I'm officially an anti-hot dog turned hot dog fan.

CRIF DOGS ... PDT; 113 St. Marks Pl. near 1st Ave. New York

Death & Co.

The last and final treasured cove of the night. A very dark wooden door and bar front mark the cryptic Death & Co. on 433 East 6th St., Lower East Side. My friends and I almost walked right past the man in black standing in front of the dimly lit entrance.

Chandeliers and candles are the only sources of light inside. Sinatra music playing in the background, wood paneled ceiling, wooden floors, black marble tables.

We were able to choose from a menu of sweet, smoky or spicy cocktails. I went with the Spicy Paloma, infused with jalapeno, grapefruit and lime. But Jac's tempura cauliflower with melted cheddar was definitely the highlight of our experience there.

Besides the pretentious waitress and decent cocktails, Death & Co is a good late night place to relax before heading home.

So next time you're about to walk past that average N.Y.C. corner, hot dog stand, or desolate-looking door, pause for a second, and take a look inside.
 

Photo by Dominik Huber

Open since 1991, the East Village Bed & Coffee is now one of the area’s old-timers, but it’s still easy to walk past this guesthouse without even knowing what it is. There’s no sign—just two doors on the street, one painted bright red with the street number,the other one covered with stickers and graffiti but no handle.

The Mexican Room

Its 12 rooms, all of varying sizes but none of them enormous, are divided equally among three floors, with the top two reached by staircases narrow enough to be worthy of Amsterdam. The rooms, which have either queen or double beds, each have their own theme—for instance, the Mexico Room has Latin American knick-knacks on the wall, and that includes a sombrero that a guest mysteriously left there one day. Rooms all have their own air-conditioning—a must for late spring and summer in New York. All the bathrooms are shared—there’s one on every floor.

Obviously, it’s not the sort of place where you’ll get a mint on your pillow. What you will get are lots and lots of thoughtful touches to help you see as much of the city as possible. Every floor’s largish common area has a computer available for guest use, as well as free Wi-Fi and a dedicated phone line for receiving phone calls. Large subway maps are mounted on the walls to help with planning, and a long photocopied list of personally recommended restaurants is available for the taking.

Free-trade coffee and tea are available in the kitchens on every floor, as are filtered water and a refrigerator with food staples, for those who want to do a little cooking. There’s also a small backyard with a koi pond—this acts as the de facto smoking lounge when the weather’s good.

Rooms (double occupancy, with all taxes included) start at just $115 for the smallish “Dutch room” on up to $140 for larger front rooms that look out onto Avenue C.  With prices like that, it’s not unusual for many rooms to fill up as long as eight months in advance. (There’s a waiting list available on the website for cancellations.) All in all, this low-key guesthouse is a great place for feeling a little more like a temporary neighbor and less like someone just passing through town.

East Village Bed & Coffee; 110 Avenue C, New York

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