Looking at the three critics' first six months on the job side-by-side, The Daily Meal's executive editor Arthur Bovino found that Mssrs. Wells, Sifton, and Bruni all reviewed the same number of restaurants. During those heady and caloric early days, Mr. Wells gave out three more stars than Mr. Bruni and fourteen more than Mr. Sifton.

"Sifton was twice as likely as Wells and five times as likely as Bruni to drop a big fat zero. Both Sifton and Bruni were almost twice as likely as Wells to give a restaurant one star," Mr. Bovino wrote.

The Daily Meal, the two-year-old food site run by former Forbes.com CEO Jim Spanfeller, has also deemed Mr. Wells "the czar of the two-star review."

All told, Mr. Wells averaged 1.8 stars per restaurant while Mr. Bruni averaged 1.7 stars and Mr. Sifton averaged 1.3 stars.

Maybe the restaurants are just getting better?

For more detailed analysis—including by borough, neighborhood, and cuisine—click through to The Daily Meal.

Fifty Shades of Grey—

First, in the Business section, Julie Bosman wrote about the word-of-mouth buzz that caused a bidding war among publishing houses for the erotic novel's re-release, which ended with highbrow Knopf shelling out seven figures for the soft-core and Universal snapping up the film rights.

On Sunday, we couldn't get away from the Fifty Shades, which was touched on in columns by Frank Bruni and Maureen Dowd.

To Mr. Bruni, Fifty Shades bolstered his "Bleaker Sex" thesis that, for all women’s achievements in higher education and the workplace, there is a “growing chorus of laments over what’s happening on the sexual frontier,” exemplified by Lena Dunham’s Girls. 

Just as Girls features humiliating, porn-influenced, "depersonalized" sex, Mr. Bruni wrote, Fifty Shades of Grey is about “a virginal college student presented with a contract to become the 'Submissive' to a dashing older man’s 'Dominant.'”

A Zeitgeist twofer.

But according to Ms. Dowd, the book is only offensive for E L James's overwrought prose. As her "Harvard-educated" dominatrix source tells her, “every good dominant knows that the submissive is really the partner in control.” Maybe women want to be bossed around in the bedroom because they're so good at bossing around others in the boardroom.

"The book seems to have resonated with so many women because, after a long day of managing employees, making all the decisions and looking after children, a woman might be exhausted about being in charge and long to surrender control," the dominatrix explained.

Against the odds, Times TV critic Alessandra Stanley found yet another angle, this one for the Arts desk today. She says the novel's popularity stems not from the sex, but from Dominant's wealth, which fulfills women's regressive cravings for a "riches-and-rescue" Cinderella narrative that TV shows no longer provide them.

So, yes, there's a Girls tie-ins:

"Heroines on network series like “The Good Wife” on CBS or “Body of Proof” on ABC are professionals who work hard and raise families without much money or emotional support from a man. That’s true on cable as well, be it the pot-selling widow on “Weeds” on Showtime or the single-mother detective on “The Killing” on AMC. It’s even sort of true of the coming “Girls,” on HBO, in which the 20-something lead character doesn’t have a career, children or a happy sex life, despite all kinds of degrading sex with a poor, uncaring would-be actor."

Now that the entire Times masthead of the has justified reading the dirty book*, the rest of the world is ready for the parody. This week Da Capo bought Fifty Shames of Earl Grey, by Andrew Shaffer, industry satirist behind @evilwiley and @emperorfranzen. According to Publishers Weekly, "the parody brings to life all of the arguments for and against 50 Shades, including the feminist concerns, portrayal of BDSM, roots in Twilight fan-fiction, and EL James's writing style."

But will the unanimously beloved Girls get the same treatment?

*This might be a "thing" in and of itself. We recall the equally titillating House of Holes got a lot of airtime too.

Romney and Gingrich.

In this modern world of supposed transparency in all things, it’s sometimes hard to see the correlation between seemingly random events. Butterfly wings in Africa and all that. We couldn’t help but notice that the morning after Mayor Bloomberg condemned the Morning After pill (also known as Plan B, for Barack Obama, who wants all children to have lots of unprotected sex), the stock market started to rise again after some devastating trading on Friday and Monday. Could it be that a certain cadre of finance professionals, crazed over their inability to get back on the dating scene after leaving an incomprehensible, rambling messages to a stranger they met at the Philharmonic (check the Internet if you don’t know what we’re talking about) have decided that as long as they’re not having sex, no one in the world should either? They’re probably outliers, granted, but it could explain what we’re seeing here.

Elsewhere, the strangely similar circular winding of Paul Krugman’s Times op-eds about the euro and economic depression and Frank Bruni’s nostalgic ramblings betray a distinct possibility that Jill Abramson is hedging her bets, mixing and matching convolution with complexity and hoping that one or the other will appeal. (We find one more entertaining than the other, and we’re not gonna say which. But we’d like to suggest a co-bylined column, if only to marvel at the results.)

And speaking of bets, here’s a relationship we can explain: Newt Gingrich is suddenly winning this Republican primary, while Rick Perry has gone up a notch on the bonkers scale. Not only does the Texas governor’s new anti-gay “Strong” ad rip off the musical stylings of Aaron Copland, a gay composer, but he’s induced a heretofore unknown wild betting streak in Mormon candidate and ultimate Highlander foe, Mitt Romney. The bet was initiated after Governor Perry needled Mr. Romney about some chapters taken out of his second book, No Apologies and had Mr. Romney so hopping mad that he put $10k on the table to prove that he never suggested a national mandate on health care. The obvious result of this is that we all realize that underneath that cool exterior, Mitt Romney probably has more in common with than Rick Perry (a strong correlation, shall we say) than possible use of similar hair product, making Mr. Gingrich the only viable horse left in this race. And now per their previous arrangement, Mr. Gingrich would like to nominate Governor Perry to be his vice-presidential candidate. Butterfly wings, etc.

--Which public figure is, for some scary reason, the subject of political polling--and is more electable than Sarah Palin?

--Which network, under new management and ownership, just renewed its beloved and low-rated sitcoms?

--How will 'Teenage Meme' Rebecca Black lose our interest after tomorrow?

--Who's the best-dressed New York doll?

--What potentially financially disastrous decision did Courtney Love (maybe) make today?

--What's the next great The Daily-style paid-content jailbreak?

--How is Broadway copying the opera's big idea?

--Where does Frank Bruni go for after-theater drinks? (Sometimes he's feeling upscale, and, well, sometimes...)

--Is leaving your executive job to judge a reality show a good idea?

ddaddario@observer.com :: @DPD_

“I think the whole Brooklyn thing must be greatly exaggerated,” Sheraton told Capital New York yesterday.

This was the start of a profile in which Sheraton pined for the days when fine dining meant French and the best palates in Manhattan never, in God's name, left the island. The Times -- with its new food critic Sam Sifton, who is also not a favorite of Sheraton's -- has shifted some of the coverage to Brooklyn. (To look at how the two very different writers practice their prose, The Observer put their reviews of the same restaurant back to back.)

Anyway, the current crop of food critics are a bit irked at Dame Sheraton's Manhattan-centric elitism. Here's a roundup of them airing their frustration -- on Twitter, of course.

Here's Pete Wells, The Times' dining editor.

And Oliver Strand, who writes The Filter, The Times' coffee blog.

Michele Humes, who contributes to The Times' Diner's Journal blog.

Kat Kinsman, managing editor of CNN's food blog, Eatocracy.

Frank Bruni, former Times food critic and now a culture reporter.

Ben Leventhal, founder of Eater.com.

Amanda Hesser, food columnist for The Times.

And Sam Sifton himself, who dryly stated that the first restaurant he chose to review in 2011 was not, in fact, in Brooklyn.

nfreeman at observer.com |@nfreeman1234

Click for Scandal Report: And Then The Model At Diddy's Party Burst Into Flames

"It’s a dessert in drink drag, a single-cup, multi-egg sleigh ride to feeling overstuffed and overwhelmed right at the start of a party, when an unimaginative host foists it upon you — 'we have eggnog!' — in place of a proper cocktail or respectable glass of wine or something, anything, that won’t spoil your appetite and erase three miles on the treadmill in three insanely rich sips," he wrote today in The New York Times. 

You see what he's getting at -- Frank Bruni will not have your grandmother's secret eggnog recipe, mixed with love we're sure. Nothing personal. It just so happens that eggnog is an utter abomination that manages to be both effete in looks and stomach-sickening in effect. Frank Bruni needs a proper cocktail. No frills, just the business.

But what if there were a variation on the season's drink of choice that wouldn't be so damn awful? Spurred on by an appeal to tradition and a hankering for nutmeg, Frank Bruni commissioned new takes on the Christmastime staple from three of the city's most nimble mixologists in hopes of finding a way to preserve the essence of eggnog while excising the heaviness.

The results appear to be a success! Julie Reiner, of Lana Kai in Soho, substituted toasted coconut milk instead of the standard, ditched the yolks, and spiked the thing with Appleton Jamaican Rum and Cruzan Black Strap Rum.

Then we get the Bah Humbug, from Johnny Swet at the James (a new hotel with a stunning view, we've been there!). He totally deconstructs his version, stipping it of all egg and dairy -- "you're just inverting the entire universe here," Bruni informs Johnny Swet in the accompanying video -- and attempts to rous some eggnogginess with a complex blend of liqueurs. Bruni found it "preferable."

Katie Stipe, cocktail director at Vandaag, in the East Village, summoned an x-factor that seems to befit her restaurant's Dutch feel: mulled cider from apples and, oddly, squash. "Ooh! Wow! I feel like I'm eating some liquid mashup of a pumpkin and an apple pie!" Bruni said upon tasting the mix.

And then, the ultimate stamp of approval: "I think this is an eggnog that Santa himself would approve of."

nfreeman [at] observer.com | @nfreeman1234

First up is the Randolph at Broome, where the bar master crafts his coffee-liquor concoction using a variety of spirits and flavors: Bulleit, Sailor Jerry, Laird’s apple brandy, cognac, Italian amaro; house-made syrups and house-made salt solutions; orange peels, lemon peels or grapefruit peels.

Fort Defiance, in Brooklyn, comports itself in a similar manner. St. John Frizell, the principle owner, prides himself on the care with which he prepares that original classic of the caffeinated cocktail canon, the Irish coffee. “Our Irish coffee might be the best thing we’ve ever served,” he told Bruni. 

The inclusion of coffee, that office staple, makes these cocktails acceptable, perhaps, for some daytime drinking. Especially on a Friday. The Randolph's Troy Sidle serves up the drinks starting at 11:00 am, so if you're near Broome and Elizabeth, get up now and walk over. Why not! Treat yourself!

nfreeman [at] observer.com | @nfreeman1234

A few weeks ago, at a fairly small book party, I walked in the door, and there was Mayor Bloomberg. When he learned who I was, he asked, "Where should I be eating?" Thinking that he was the mayor and would probably enjoy someplace formal and fancy, I recommended a restaurant called Marea. A couple of weeks later, I see an email in my inbox from "Mike." It was Mayor Bloomberg, thanking me for the recommendation. He told me the food was good, but the ambiance was a little formal and fancy for his tastes.

See if Frank Bruni helps you out next time, "Mike."

Over the course of 2657 words, it develops that license renewal is a more trying ordeal than Bruni anticipated. All manner of comic misadventures hinder our hero. We will go ahead and spoil the ending:

Two weeks later, my license arrived in the mail. For a month I merely stared at and caressed it, convinced that disaster would strike if I actually put it to use. Then I did, driving through the Napa Valley to a wedding, through the Berkshires to a lake. All the while I checked my wallet two, three, even four times a day, to make absolutely sure it was still there.

The new license expires on Oct. 31, 2014. Halloween. Fitting.

Huzzah, Frank Bruni! At least you got a great story out of it.

Issues addressed include eating disorders and fame. Also:

Q: Where are you eating tonight?

A: In every city I visit, several people ask me this question, and it always makes me smile, because there's usually such a local-pride sweetness embedded in it. The questioner wants to hear that there's a local establishment I'm dying to try, or wants to know what about his or her city caught an outsider's eye.

But my answer, usually, is, "I don't know." Or, "nowhere, really."