ast night, a friend sent me an email. “I have an intense hankering for truffled egg toast.” Oh God, I always have a hankering for truffled egg toast. A year ago, I didn’t even know what it was -- such innocence then! -- and now it’s like a thought bubble that always hangs to the left of my head, along with “I should probably do my taxes” and “I wonder what my cat is doing.” This got me thinking about New York food, and this got me thinking about a list I meant to make and never did. Ten best costumes involving one large-boned marmelade cat? Maybe. For now: A highly unscientific list (in no particularly order) of the best dishes in New York, according to me, who will complain about a lot of things in New York--but never the food.

Truffled Egg Toast, ’Inoteca
It doesn’t sound like much: a thick piece of toast, hollowed so that an egg can be baked in the center, and then covered with fontina cheese and truffle oil. But it’s a trifecta of rich, gooey goodness (which will also be the phrase that goes on my tombstone, if there is any justice in this world.)

House-Made Potato Chips with Bleu Cheese Dip, Bar Americain
Bar Americain is one of my favorite restaurants in New York. How could it not be? I’m friends with the owner. I’m even better friends with the owner’s wife, which means we have semi-frequent and fabulous gatherings there. There is this fish stew, called the Fulton Fish Market Cioppino? Fuggedaboudit. B.A. also serves these ginormous oysters that have completely spoiled me for oysters. (Tiny, wimpy oysters? You are dead to me.) But if I had to pick my favorite, the dish for which I hanker, it would be something simple: the house-made potato chips with bleu cheese dip. That’s like Goodness with a side of Awesome.

Pork Ramen, Momofuku
I ate ramen in college. It was 39 cents at H-E-B. Went perfect with a $5 six-pack of tall-boy Keystone Light. Everything I knew about ramen imploded upon discovering Momofuku. This is comfort food for all seasons.

Crunchy Spicy Tuna Roll, Bozu
Have I ever told you how much I like sushi? This much. No wait: THIS MUCH. No wait: THIIIIIS MUCH. I eat so much salmon sushi I’m starting to think I might be part bear. But after a while, all the rainbow rolls and sashimi platters and outrageous bills start to blend together. Except at Bozu. This is what sushi looks like at Bozu. See that one on the right? It may look like a bird’s nest on top of rice, but it’s freaking delicious.

Ginger Margarita, Spice Market
Spice Market is one of those outrageous NY places that’s big as a shopping mall and still booked till spring. I called for reservations on a Friday once, and they said, “Sure, we can seat you at midnight.” Midnight! The theme is upscale Asian street food (in Asia, do fancy restaurants sell upscale hot dogs and roasted peanuts?), and it’s quite good. But the killer is the ginger margarita, a stiff $16 and actually worth it.

Lamb Chops, Devi
I always ask my Indian cab drivers where to eat in this town. They always say things like, “There’s a tiny unnamed place in Queens, about an hour’s subway ride from here” or things like, “My place. Wanna come?” For a city that boasts as many Indian restaurants as Starbucks, there’s a shocking amount of mediocre saag paneer. Devi isn’t what I envision when I crave Indian--no pink tablecloths, no buffets (thank God), lots of unfamiliar dishes--but it’s the best Indian food I’ve ever eaten. Even cab drivers agree.

Peanut Butter Creamwich, ’Witchcraft
I’m not a dessert person. I could take or leave a Magnolia cupcake. For some reason, this crumbly peanut butter cookie knocks me out. (My sandwich wasn’t shabby, either.) I always end up walking down the street while I’m eating it, sounding like a raunchy construction worker: Daaamn! God bless you, Mami!

Pepperoni Pizza, Big Nick’s
My love of Big Nick’s pizza actually predates my moving to New York. Back when I’d come to visit, I’d stay at my friend Stephanie’s place on the Upper West Side, and this was my first stop: a brilliant and greasy and floppy and somehow crisp slice of the American Dream, with pepperoni, less than three bucks a pop.

Pork Belly, August
My friend Tony may be the chef here, but lest I be accused of favoritism, August wins all stripes of foodie awards and is beloved by Maggie and Jake Gyllenhaal. What more do you need? The pork belly is crazy good, rich as Steve Jobs and 10 times more interesting.

Wah-heel Enchiladas, Bonita
Texans in New York like to complain about the Tex-Mex. It’s one of our favorite pasttimes. The bright side, however, is that there’s some killer interior Mexican to be had. Right around the corner from my apartment is Bonita, a charming little place that quiets my ferocious craving for a Mexican breakfast. I have no idea how to spell Wah-heel Enchiladas (Oaxil? Guajil?), and they’re never listed on the menu, so here’s the gist: Cheese enchiladas covered in a spicy chipotle sauce and topped with an egg, over-easy. It sounds insane. But it’s just crazy enough to work.