Magnolia, or: The Reason I Can Never Get Anything Done in the West Village

Any self-respecting New Yorker knows that Magnolia Bakery is the place to go for cupcakes. In fact, anyone who’s seen “Sex and the City,” “Spin City” or “The Devil Wears Prada,” or YouTube-searched the words “Lazy Sunday,” probably knows about this pleasant little Bleecker Street bakery. Magnolia is actually a citywide presence(the business franchised to Midtown and Rockefeller Plaza after new owners Steve and Tyra Abrams took over in 2007), but the most famous location, the one from “Sex and the City,” resides in the trendy, super-exclusive West Village, Manhattan’s perennial playground for its more recession-proof citizens.

The place isn’t much to look at. But like all classic New York eateries, the food is fantastic and definitely warrants all the high-profile name-checks. The cupcakes are blissful albeit artery-clogging, and the prices ($3 per cupcake) can be a tad steep, but nobody can argue that you don’t get what you pay for; even if CitySearch only ranks Magnolia at three and a half stars out of five (one poster writes: “nothing blew us away. Not to mention…it’s pretty darn expensive!”), the line is consistently out the door.

Founded in 1996 by Allysa Torey and Jennifer Appel, Magnolia is homey to the core. Bakers bustle out trays of pastries every few minutes or so, full-blown cakes (priced from $24 to $48, depending on the type of cake) line display cases and a sign reminds buyers they’re only allowed a dozen cupcakes at a time. And since the food at Magnolia is all takeout, it shouldn’t be a surprise that a visit during peak hours is about as close to smash-mouth cupcake shopping as it comes. Sometimes foreign camera crews filming the Marc Jacobs store down the block capture their reporters grabbing a bite. OK, cameras and New York aggression aren’t homey by anyone’s reckoning, but it’s still as close to small-town sweetness as New York City gets.

And while Magnolia certainly isn’t timid with their pricing ($2.50 for a regular cupcake, $3 for “special” treats like the red velvet and pumpkin cupcakes), at least they’re not overly secretive about their tricks. Appel’s 1999 “The Magnolia Bakery Cookbook,” as well as Torey’s “More From Magnolia” (2004) outline the basic recipes for the store’s offerings, including the cupcakes.

One such tidbit: the cupcake icing contains two (!) sticks of butter. Eat too many of these bad boys and you’re on the short list for a heart attack. But there are certainly worse ways to go.

The Beat Report: The Best Hot Dog in New York City

Last Thursday I went to a place that claimed to have the best hot dogs in NYC. No idea who decided that, but according to the chalkboard outside the place it was voted by the Times and another magazine, I think it was Time Out NY. I'm fuzzy on important details like the place's name (update 12/8/09: it's called New York Hot Dog & Coffee) because 1) I was on my way to table for a fundraiser for my frat and running late, and 2)I was only on Bleecker St. to check out the record stores. Why? Because I was hoping to fulfil my quest for an original pressing of my favorite album; U2's The Joshua Tree.

No such luck on that front, but I did notice the hot dog place. Now, you don't get to be a slim 205 lbs like myself without turning down unique culinary opportunities, so I figured I'd stop in for one of the Best Hot Dogs in New York. Sure, was something like 5:45 and a bizarre time to be eating anything for me (my meal schedule is usually pretty uniform; breakfast at 9ish if I have it, lunch around 12, and dinner around 7-8). But hey, you gotta try the best, right?

So I stopped in and, wanting to save my cash for the weekend's festivities, I ordered a "New Yorker." That's just a plain hot dog with sauerkraut, relish and onions. It was $3.45 and easily the cheapest 'dog on the menu. While I waited I took a look at the place. It looks pretty nice, well-kept, walls the color of actual hot-dogs and a surprisingly extensive menu that includes burgers and fries as well. There are definitely classier places in the West Village, but it's cleaner than 80% of the Papaya Dogs floating around this island, so I was cool with it. I got my New Yorker and promptly doused that baby with ketchup and mustard, completing the masterpiece (in Jersey, we call that "the works." Probably elsewhere, too, but I don't get hung up on those details).

The verdict? Not the best hot dog ever. Definitely good, but not $4 good by a long shot. I'll probably go back and give it another shot, though. I scarfed this one down reeeeal fast and didn't have time to savor it. Also, I really wanted a chili dog, but all things considered that probably would have been a poor choice at the time.