As a college Freshman (1957), the old Alfred's in the Village in Houston opened my eyes (dimmed by years of chili and chicken fried steak) to an entire new world. 4 years later, and I'm wintering in Brooklyn at the Navy Yard with shore patrol stint in a cold water railroad flat shared by on W.23rd (bathtub in kitchen under table top, big bucket to heat water). I surveyed Manhattan and Brooklyn (and even Queens) with vigor and in depth, compiling a list (now, sadly shortened by time) of places to retry during visits to the city in later years. NYC's boroughs had the best delis, but Brooklyn close to the water had the best Italian (Southern) food in the world (andf that judgement rendered afte 21 visits to Naples and a handful of stops in Palermo and other haunts on the dark island.

Now I'm old, and NYC becomes an infrequent and tightly packaged place to visit, but I kind of like Katz on West 6th in Austin (now in bankruptcy and moving to survive if at all). The owner, Marc Katz, is a character, a fixture in that colroful part of West Austin, much to be preferred to the deparavities of East 6th.