The tradition of  hard-boiled eggs being offered at a bar goes back hundreds of years, prior, even, to the opening of Keens Steakhouse, which was established in 1885. Of late, however, the quaint practice has run afoul of  increasingly zealous governmental inspections.

Keens bartender Rob Byrnes spoke with the The Transom on a recent early evening. “The restaurant found out that it was something the health department, now, would not allow. They are supposed to be coming soon...so before there was any kind of a problem we replaced the eggs with the wooden eggs,” said Mr. Byrnes. He went on to regale us with lore about how the tradition started in France in the seventeenth century. (The barkeeps at this wood-clad haunt are apparently an erudite bunch.) It was reputedly born  of a surplus amount of eggs and a requirement that establishments serving liquor also serve food. Interesting then, that this long-standing tradition was apparently born out of a necessity to meet legislation and has since met its demise through the same ends.

As way of hewing to tradition, as well as accommodating egg-accustomed patrons, Keens has replaced their real eggs with wooden stand-ins (some left with there natural hue for brown eggs, some painted white)—a preemptive move to pass a health inspection. “We had a lot of regular customers who would come in and just take [the eggs] themselves...We’re definitely not giving out as many eggs today as we were two months ago [when the switchover happened]. It has changed the whole thing of that old tradition.”

And it a tradition that was widespread in New York City, as Mr. Byrnes explained, “I remember my dad saying in the late seventies that when he grew up in the forties or fifties, every bar in the city served hard-boiled eggs,” but this is no longer the case.

Mr. Byrnes even pointed out that “there is a bar that is out of business now that used to [serve eggs],” though he stopped short of attributing the failure to the egg ban.

(Devotees of hard-boiled eggs are not the only clientele affected, it should be noted. The New York Times recently ran an article detailing the untimely passing of the spreadable cheese at Broadway stand-by Sardi’s, which has recently been ordered to remove all snacks from their bar, following an inspection.)

Has anyone ever become ill because of the eggs, we wondered? “No. They were fresh everyday and I’m pretty sure you can leave hard-boiled eggs out for a couple of days,” Mr. Byrnes said.

One customer, who was enjoying a snack-free beverage at the bar, described the move as “ridiculous,” a sentiment that the bartender of six years believes sums up the general feeling on the matter. “I think most people do think it’s kind of ridiculous, that it took this long for them to determine that this wasn’t a good idea,” Mr. Byrnes added.

“The regulars who come in and help themselves to an egg have actually taken one off the bar, walked to the other side of the room and then realized that this is not a real egg.” This perhaps raises the question of the safety of wooden eggs which are surely still a hazard to unassuming customers? “No-one has cracked their teeth yet” though.

Not everyone at the bar agreed with the importance of the egg issue. One lady said, “I’ve got no problem having a drink because I like it. I don’t need an egg to convince me that I’m thirsty.”
We agreed with her, and settled in for a drink.

AOL, which purchased TechCrunch back in September, was forced to issue him an exemption to the employee code of conduct.

Last week, Mr. Arrington bucked conventional ethics once again when it was reported that Mr. Arrington would be launching a $20 million dollar venture capital fund to (wait for it!) invest in startups like the kind covered on his blog. The list of investors in the fund reads like a cast of regulars from the webpages of TechCrunch. Venture capital firms like Kleiner Perkins Caufield & Byers, Greylock Partners and Sequoia Capital plunked down $1 million a piece, along with a who’s who of hot Internet investors like PayPal’s Marc Andreessen, Digg’s Kevin Rose, and Russian web billionaire Yuri Milner. The only head-scratcher in the bunch was the fund’s leading limited partner: Mr. Arrington’s employer, AOL, which is reported to have put up half the fund’s capital.

Where most media outlets would be tripping over themselves to erect a firewall between their editorial and investment arms, Mr. Arrington and his employer courted controversy by naming his $20 million pool of money CrunchFund, after his blog, naturally. Old school media got their journalistic standards in a wad and were only too happy to give Mr. Arrington the attention he sought.

In The New York Times, David Carr wrote, “As business reporters, we are often pressed up against the glass, watching as others take risks, make investments and build companies. We are observers, not players. But the froth and money sloshing around has reached a whole other level, and looks enticing no matter what side of the glass you are on. Michael Arrington kicked a hole in the glass.” Crash! Ka-pow! Mr. Arrington’s own employee had a more aggressive description, calling the brouhaha (Arrington-gate, in unimaginative parlance), a “nuclear situation.”
It didn’t help matters that AOL’s major players, from CEO Tim Armstrong to Arianna Huffington, issued a shifting Rashomon-like narrative of what exactly Mr. Arrington’s role would be.

“TechCrunch is a different property and they have different standards. We have a traditional understanding of journalism with the exception of TechCrunch, which is different but is transparent about it,” said Mr. Armstrong, who claimed Mr. Arrington would report to Ms. Huffington. The next day, a spokesperson issued a correction, saying that Mr. Arrington would be moved over to AOL’s venture arm, but still blog, adding, “It’s just very important to be really clear about the exact specifics.” The nuclear mushroom cloud apparently extends all the way to Brazil, where Mr. Carr—the only journalist who has been able to reach Ms. Huffington—located her while she searches for Huffington Post partners. “David, honestly, don’t be silly,” she told Mr. Carr. “It is very, very clear that they are distinct entities and Michael will have no influence on coverage.”

The Transom tracked down two securities lawyers trapped in their offices over the holiday weekend to close a deal. Both asked Transom if we were too young to remember R. Foster Winans, a Wall Street Journal reporter behind the “Heard on the Street Column” who served nine months in federal prison in the eighties for sharing company information with his friends before it appeared in the column. But both lawyers also suggested that restrictions on securities were more likely to come into play in the act of raising money for the fund, which has already closed, than whether or not Mr. Arrington would have unfair access to deal flow.

But according to Greylock’s Reid Hoffman that deal flow is a big part of the reason the firm invested. “As many tech entrepreneurs read it — both within Silicon Valley and globally — and view the information news feed to be their target for announcing themselves to the world, Crunchfund will have access to deal flow to these diverse and early stage companies. Some of these companies will be the kind of early stage companies with billion-dollar potential that Greylockinvests in,” he told AllThingsD’s Kara Swisher.

Some remain dubious about whether Mr. Arrington’s feared status and access to deal flow will give him an upper-hand in picking winners. Shortly after the fund was announced, former Business Insider writer Dan Frommer recalled Mr. Arrington’s brush with an ill-fated Linux-based tablet computer with the unfortunate name, tweeting, “Lastly who says Arrington is going to be good at picking investments, anyway? Dude was 5 minutes away from backing the JooJoo.”

“Simply put,” said  I.A.F.F. general president Harold Schaitberger, Mr. Clinton is “the kind of leader American workers need more of holding office today at every level of government.”Mr. Clinton, not to be outdone, had something more to say about those people holding office today. “I got tickled by watching Governor Perry announce [for] president,” Mr. Clinton said of the candidate from Texas, accentuating his Arkansas drawl for effect. “He’s a good-looking rascal.” The ballroom, filled with fire fighters from across the country and Canada, erupted in laughter, and Mr. Clinton grinned mischievously. He went on to call the anti-federal government rant by Mr. Perry—the longest serving governor his state’s history—“crazy.”

The rest of Mr. Clinton’s 35-minute speech was unremarkable. But the firemen were tickled to have the former president at their biannual event, and tried finding a suitable way to say thank you. They presented him with a particularly pedigreed golf club. “We were able to locate one of 12 clubs [legendary golfer] Bobby Jones had made, nine of which are in museums, three which are privately held,” said Mr. Schaitberger, counting the one being gifted among those three.

Mr. Clinton scratched his chin and offered an open-mouth smiled. He put on his glasses and inspected the head of the putter. Then, he bent over to try it out. “Wow,” Mr. Clinton muttered softly, sounding truly impressed.

By the time Mr. Clinton walked off with the rare and priceless putter, the fireman had also heard from City Council Speaker Christine Quinn—a leading mayoral candidate for mayor in 2013 who is credited with blocking Mayor Bloomberg’s plan to shutter firehouses. Local union leaders thanked her and she thanked them and there was a general air of good feeling in the room.

Later that morning, one of Ms. Quinn’s likely rivals, New York City Comptroller John Liu, had his turn. Mr. Liu, who holds a degree in mathematical physics from Binghamton University, told his blue-collar audience how much he learned the previous weekend when he had the chance to take part in a day of fireman’s training.

Mr Liu was wearing a dark suit and a tightly configured tie, and his pin-straight black hair was neatly brushed to the side. He recalled wearing “close to 100 pounds of gear as well as 300 tools that were necessary.” Then, he recalled, he entered the first room designed to simulate a real fire.

“You could see the smoke coming out,” recalled Mr. Liu, “and I was standing there, going, ‘Holy shit.’” The fireman applauded and laughed.

Reflecting back on the experience from the comfort of the podium, Mr. Liu said, “I don’t think people get it, that that’s what [you] fire fighters put up with.” The firemen then presented Mr. Liu with a honorary fireman’s helmet, which he gamely donned.

Frey.

Christine Vachon’s Killer Films will produce a film adaptation of James Frey’s The Final Testament of the Holy Bible. In the book, which was released in April, Jesus Christ returns in the form of a bisexual recovering alcoholic named Ben who lives in the Bronx.

In an interview with The Observer, Mr. Frey said that he gave Ms. Vachon a copy of the book six months before it was released, but that they had their first meeting on the project two weeks ago. He will adapt the screenplay himself but declined to suggest who he hopes will direct or star in the movie. When asked to give us an idea of what movies he had in mind, however, he listed a round-up notable for what he calls their “heavy, heavy emotional impact” but which some might refer to as a certain gross-out quality: Lars Von Triers’s Breaking the Waves, Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan, Larry Clark’s Kids (also produced by Ms. Vachon). He also mentioned Todd Haynes’s Velvet Goldmine (Haynes is a longtime Killer Films collaborator) and Derek Cienfrance’s Blue Valentine.

“I like a lot of emotionally impactful smaller films,” said Mr. Frey.

“But bigger in their intent and ambition,” Ms. Vachon hastened to add.

The Final Testament of the Holy Bible attracted as much attention for eschewing a traditional publisher in the United States as it did for its plot, which The Guardian called a “crock of mendacity” that “makes Jesus Christ Superstar sound like Handel's Messiah.” The book was published through a collaboration with Gagosian Gallery and only 10,000 copies were printed, with covers designed by the artist Gregory Crewdson. Each cost $50, with the exception of 1,000 copies of a special edition bound in black leatherette and signed that went for $150. The book was also available as a $6.99 electronic book.

“It’s not about making 100 million dollars, it’s about making the best thing,” said Mr. Frey.

Most New Yorkers have never been to Rao's--the wait for a reservation can be longer than most Manhattan marriages--so the fact that a group of Las Vegas residents were invited to patronize the storied establishment without any reservation at all was cause for alarm, or at least an explanation. On Monday evening, March 1, Bon Appétit magazine corralled a singular pairing of homegrown New York media types and imported haute cuisine chefs from Las Vegas at Rao's to celebrate Vegas Uncork'd by Bon Appétit, the annual food and wine festival held in the Nevada hub the first weekend in May.

Jean Georges Vongerichten arrived early, smiley in a black pull-over, but could only stay from 6:30-6:45pm as Donald Trump was coming to dine at Mr. Vongerichten's Columbus Circle restaurant in the Trump International Tower--dueling namesakes leaves no time for Rao's.

Other celeb chefs included Francois Payard and Jet Tila, a top chef at Wynn Resorts who explained the difficulties of making Steve Wynn's personal sushi now that Mr. Wynn has gone vegan.

Rafish Adam Rapoport, newly minted editor of the host magazine, moved his eyes towards the ceiling pensively before answering what his last meal would be. "Well, I would make my last meal, because I'm a control freak. But the question is, would I go the mom route, like mom's meatloaf and mashed potatoes or something else?"

He wore dark-washed Levi's and a trimly tailored dark blazer.

"And then the bigger question is, who would it be with? Do I know it's the last meal?"

Unlike Alex Trebek, Mr. Rapoport was giving questions rather than answers.

Finally, he sat down at the red leather booth and taking a fork full of Rao's Cheesecake perfected his answer.

"I would get an aged rib-eye from the Florence Meat Market and I would cook it medium rare over really hot charcoal--no gas. Then I would have it sliced over arugula with lemon and olive oil and on the side I would make some roasted Yukon Gold potatoes, but peeled so they're crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside. I would have two vodka sodas while I'm grilling and then a good Burgundy, maybe a Nuits-Saint-Georges."

He leaned back and sighed with satisfaction.

Dessert?

"Oh. I'm not really a big dessert guy. Maybe a biscotti?"

-cmalle@observer.com

Yesterday, Eric Fischl came for lunch with Mary Boone. He was the only person wearing jeans in the whole restaurant, but we let him in, only because of who he is-you know, he is the new Picasso! Everyone was hugging and kissing him in the grill.

We had a wonderful Valentine's Day menu that everyone loved because everything had a sexual innuendo. Guests could choose between Chivalrous Chateaubriand with Tingling Fingerling Potatoes or Hanky Panky Veal Shanky with Peek-a-Boo Polenta.

The big event of the week was of course Friday-Pete Peterson, David Rockefeller and Bill Clinton came for lunch. That was the second time the president came in two weeks. Can you imagine? And this time we prepared a special vegan meal so he could eat something. I can't tell you what we prepared-it's a secret! But President Clinton is always so gracious. He stopped and spoke to every person who wanted to meet him. He took a lot of pictures. I even took a photograph with him, and my wife came for the occasion! You should have seen it when he got up to leave. Everyone was googly-eyed and craning their necks to watch him.

Liz Smith-I love her!-and Billy Norwich also lunched here together on Friday. They sipped wine and ate scallops and fillet of sole. Ms. Smith looked very chic in a black leather jacket. What a nice lady. Two tables down from them was Harold Ford Jr. He was eating with an attractive brunette at the corner banquet.

In other less local political news, the prince was back from the Middle East. He came in for lunch late last week and began listening to Al Jazeera live on his iPhone in the corner of the Grill. When he heard that the Egyptian president was stepping down, he ran out of the restaurant. He said he was so excited that he couldn't stay and that he would be back on Monday. Can you imagine? And he didn't even eat his lunch! But don't worry, he'll still be paying for it! 

It's not unlike her former home at the Beekman Regent, a 20-story condo building at 351 East 51st Street that was built in 2001 atop a century-old school house. The retooled building, like Ms. Burns, is no stranger to praise, either, having won the Mercedes Benz Property Award for best new development in 2002.

The three-bedroom, three-bathroom home with East River views is located on the 14th floor and sold for $2.15 million on Jan. 20, according to city records. The buyer is Marquez R. Eduardo, who lists an address on the 14th floor of 2 Sutton Place South a few blocks away.

Ms. Burns bought the condo for $2.5 million in the fall of 2005, and listed it last August with Stribling's Beatrice Ducrot for $2.6 million, before cutting it to $2.45 million a month later.

Perhaps Ms. Burns moved because she was tired of riding the MetroNorth to Xerox headquarters in Norwalk, Conn. She now lists an address in nearby New Canaan. Neither Ms. Burns nor Ms. Ducrot could be reached for comment. The Observer even tried sending a fax.

mchaban [at] observer.com | @mc_nyo

Even exquisitely uncomfortable pointy-toed dress shoes can't keep Michael Kors from practically any retail neighborhood in the city he so desires.

It reportedly took ages to lure the designer to check out Unago's former space on Madison Avenue for his New York City flagship. But once they got him through the door, the negotiations took only an hour.

Since then, the black-clad designer has taken over the 2,500-square-foot former Benetton space in the Flatiron district; a 1,475-square-foot store on Bleecker Street in Greenwich Village; and, just last month, a massive 7,500-square-foot chunk of the former Kenneth Cole store at Rockefeller Center.

Now the lovable, blue-eyed Project Runway judge, who's catapulted his realty TV fame into a rapidly growing retail empire, is on the hunt for two new locations, sources told The Commercial Observer. He's checking out the sizzling meatpacking district, as well as the eternally up-and-coming Financial District.

Sources say the two new stores will be around the same size as his existing locations, whose ground-floor space spans a wide range, from 1,500 to 4,500 square feet.

Michael Kors was represented in a previous deal by Richard Hodos and Stephen Sjurset of CB Richard Ellis. Mr. Sjurset declined to comment, saying he wanted to check with Michael Kors first, and they tend to be a little slow getting back. Apparently the mercurial fashionista doesn't always move so fast.

lkusisto@observer.com

The lithe Claire Milonas arrived on the arm of the lanky budget director at one of Obama's inauguration balls, but the relationship fell apart even before she gave birth to his daughter in November 2009. Six weeks later prudish Washingtonians were scandalized by the announcement that he was engaged to Good Morning America anchor Bianna Golodryga.

But beautiful Greek shipping heiresses/venture capitalists have a way of bouncing back.

Ms. Milonas has nailed a $3.16 million three-bedroom in a pre-war co-op at 815 Park Avenue. Upgrading from a two-bedroom, $8,900-a-month rental at nearby 920 Park, she'll now enjoy a windowed eat-in kitchen, a wood-burning fireplace in a spacious living area and an easy stroll to Museum Mile for the mommy and her probable baby genius.

What's more, Ms. Milonas--who's reportedly so thrifty she's got an Amazon wishlist--bought the place for $500,000 off the original asking price of $3.65 million. The apartment was listed with Corcoran's Barbara Clement Gould and Carmen Marques Perez.

Mr. Orszag now works for CitiBank in New York, but there's no public record of where he lives. We do know from voter registration records via PropertyShark that his wife, Ms. Golodryga, lists a middling far West Village rental building.

SLIDESHOW: Claire Milonas' Park Avenue Palace. >>

lkusisto@observer.com