There are certain restaurants I would never go during Restaurant Week for many reasons. I don’t like to fight with the twenty bajillion more people who are trying to get a cheaper meal, and certain big restaurants are always skimping out with the RW menu. I already planned on going to Megu to try one of their tasting menus, but Jess convinced me [...]
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When Megu opened in TriBeCa a little more than two years ago, almost all of us who write about restaurants — and, to my ears, just about anyone who visited the place — joked about the heft, length and abstruseness of the document it dropped on the table, the clunky conglomeration of pages with which you were supposed to decide what to eat.
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Ok, enough with the excitement--redesign and book deals be damned--we need to get back to our roots: my name is Kunta Kinte. I take pictures of my food.
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Are these pants too tight? Is my lipstick too dark?" I wondered as I took a last look in the mirror before heading out. I was about to meet a couple I'd never even seen before for dinner at Megu. A couple of weeks ago, an EDOW reader and Miho Hatori fan had complimented me via e-mail on my blog and asked if I'd like to join him and his wife for dinner at Megu. He assured me that they weren't weird. How could I refuse such a generous offer?
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Upon first glance, Megu seems to be a Japanese art gallery. All that is visible from the street is a giant hinomaru; the grand dining room is only visible once you descend the stairs. The cavernous space, housing an ice sculpture of the Buddha, is somewhat reminiscent of the room at Tao. Fortunately, the emphasis on atmosphere does not come at the expense of the food.
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