Mmm, cow.

For whatever reason, it's been a while since I've had red meat. I'm not saying I usually gorge myself on cow on a regular basis, but my diet has been a little more Asian based recently (sidebar - do yourself a favor and order sesame noodles next time you're in the mood for takeout, then come back here and thank me). And I don't know about you, but I don't consider crispy beef anything close to red meat (or beef, for that matter).

So when a friend of mine suggested burgers in the East Village, I high-fived the idea and headed down to my old 'hood. We ended up at Paul's "Da Burger Joint" on Second Ave. A tiny pretentious-free grease stain in an otherwise over-marketed part of town, I was instantly excited thrilled. My cheddar bacon was a perfect medium rare, and my $3.75 Rolling Rock squared the meal off. Burgers, an Olympics-obsessed waitress, and a belly full of laughs later, it was off for a night cap.

How good is Paul's? The place was packed on a cold, idle Tuesday. Don't just take my word for it - NYMag listed them as one of the best burgers in the city. Sure, this puts them side by side with burgers from the likes of David Burke at Bloomingdale's, Minetta Tavern, and Brooklyn's Dumont. And rightfully so. A stack of napkin's and patriotic feelings come free with every bite at Paul's.