As Almond, the well-regarded Bridgehampton bistro, opened a Manhattan outpost last week there were a few questions. First, will the menu carry the standbys of the namesake, or skew more towards the offerings of the trattoria Almondcello? The menu revealed when the restaurant opened its doors on 22nd Street showed mostly the former with a smattering of the latter.

A man preparing for his wedding has a whole lot on his mind. That's where a medical marijuana license can come in handy. But as a displaced New Yorker exiled in Northern California, I didn't exactly have the right to avail myself of the state's loosened marijuana regulations as I prepared for my impending nuptials.

The grand opening of Avenue (10th Ave. btw 17th and 18th), from Marquee vet Noah Tepperberg, this week makes one thing clear (and yes it's too late to say bottle service killed New York): The word gastro has got to go.

An abandoned subway station in Brooklyn might not be the first place you look for a lesson in primitive filmmaking, but that's where you'll find one. Riding on the B or Q trains from Dekalb Ave to Manhattan commuters looking out the window where usually only rats and mole people are spotted are treated to a fanciful installation by artist Bill Brand called the Masstransiscope.

The Tribeca vino hall and music venue City Winery (which, it must be said, moves pretty damn fast) owned by Michael Dorf of the defunct Knitting Factory, hops on the tribute train tonight with a wine and music pairing featuring five wines -- one for each MJ era -- and 25 songs.

When the New York Dolls took the stage in Williamsburg last night they were nothing if not dramatic. The anticipation of seeing the Dolls perform can't be what it was a few years ago, when they "reunited" (Johnny Thunders and Jerry Nolan were long dead and Arthur "Killer" Kane played one show with the reincarnated Dolls in London before dying as well -- leaving only David Johansen and guitarist Sylvain Sylvain from the classic line-up), but a darkened theater and blaring music that sounded as though it was meant to herald the second coming of Christ, not David Johansen, did the trick.

Dear Bacon, Perhaps we were a bit too hasty before when we said we were through with you. When we saw you last night at Employees Only in the West Village wrapped around that tiny New Zealand lamb chop, well, we have to admit, our blood got up a bit.

The previews have begun at Vanity Fair editor-in-chief Graydon Carter's second stab at remodeling (you'll remember how he gutted and rebuilt the Waverly Inn in his own image). The Monkey Bar, the shuttered W. 54th Street simian-themed old-New York classic that Carter is re-opening, hosted invited VIP guests to sample the menu this week, according to reports.

Ikea is serving up Santa's finest in Europe. And animal rights activists are none too pleased. Apparently, in Sweden reindeer meat is quite the holiday treat, so it makes sense that the purveyor of solutions for modern living and unofficial ambassador of Swedish culture would spread the love.

Images The idea, hatched somewhere in the recesses of Knitting Factory founder Michael Dorf's mind after he made his own barrel of wine, seems simple enough: Create a space at the vortex where wine and music meet. There's more overlap than you might think.

Last night at a party in its SoHo loft, the Huffington Post's sister site 23/6 brought in President-Elect Barack Obama in style. Dorm-room style, but, hey, that's a style. The only thing missing was the bong water (though the occasional whiff of marijuana floated over the crowd).

Sending back a steak is simple. If it's burned, send it back. "I ordered rare, and this resembles something that should be stitched to the bottom of a wingtip." Send it back. Simple. But what about wine?

In these tough economic times, it seems that any news story (no matter what it's about) begins with the phrase "In these tough economic times." It started with vacation and travel pieces. "Paying more at the pump" became a prerequisite for any story about family summer vacations. became a prerequisite for any story about family summer vacations. Now. since the credit crisis, just about anything is fare game.

It can't all be sipping Bellinis at Nello with skeletal social X-rays who look like a sprig of frisee will send them straight to the vomitorium. There are some enticing options for red-meat eaters out East, too. Everyone has ideas about what makes a good burger. Here are ours.

Lucy Browne's on Varick ( flipped from Steak Frites) officially opens today after an opening party last night that rechristened the "wholesome American" restaurant born of that Francophile factory (on Bastille Day, no less). And the early word is ... confusion. It's got an oyster Po' Boy, so it's New Orleans grub, right?

Let's recap: A black president-elect, a caribou-cooking loose cannon female governor seemingly marshaling her reserves for 2012, a potential Clinton cabinet appointment (the better half) or 2012 run, and a nation seemingly obsessed with the fact that its first lady-elect chose to wear a dress with a splash of red on election night.