Helen Rosner

A New Yorker food critic responds to a reader’s baking woes.

The slim, tortilla-forward northern-Mexican burrito is getting its due, at spots including Vato, in Park Slope, and Los Burritos Juarez, in Fort Greene.

One evening a week, at Eunji Lee’s tiny Manhattan pâtisserie, Lysée, sweets are appetizer, entrée, and everything else.

The stargazy pie at Dean's—a new British-ish, pub-ish restaurant on the edge of SoHo—is, in a word, freaky.

With a soaring new complex in midtown, the restaurateur Simon Kim continues to turn his Korean-barbecue-meets-steak-house concept into a high-status luxury chain.

Theatricality goes only so far at the ambitious new restaurant from the group behind London’s Gymkhana.

Every week, The New Yorker's editors and critics select the best new books of the year so far.

At the new restaurant in the Sotheby’s-owned Breuer building, money, in its most indiscreet sense, is everywhere.

The best frozen-yogurt spots in town aren’t necessarily the ones that draw long lines.

Zoli, which now anchors the sprawling East Williamsburg art space Amant, earns its experimental flourishes by delivering pleasure at every turn.