Sometimes you live somewhere so long that you just take everything for granted. It's nice to take a day or so every month to get out of the rut you've been living and do the things that you've read about a million times and keep meaning to do, but just never get around to it. Today was that day for me.

After three unsucessful attempts at getting rush tickets for Broadway shows -- those are the ones you can get just prior to a performance for $30 if there are any seats left -- my friend and I were on a mission to eat. Like almost everyone who's not from the US, his favorite thing to eat is the quintessential all American hamburger. While not my first choice when thinking of what to eat, I love burgers, so off we were.

I have this really bad habit of getting the wrong thing stuck in my head. I remembered reading all the "Best Of" hamburger articles about the swanky hotel with the greasy little hamburger joint off the lobby. The Royalton popped into my head. Or was it the Carlton?? I called a friend, got the address for The Royalton and we walked from Hells Kitchen across town only to discover I was totally wrong. The concierge at The Royalton made a few calls and found out it was actually the Parker Meridian. So off we were to 57th and 6th (118 W 57th Street to be exact) on the quest for a killer burger.

As soon as we walked in, I could smell a hint of flame broil. Right off the lobby is a little neon hamburger sign that leads into what I'd call a "dive restaurant" (the Burger Joint) with several tables and booths, Ramones and Cheech and Chong posters on the walls, and a open air grill broiling up the burgers. Clearly not a secret -- there was a line of about 10 people the entire time we were there -- it was no surprise that the critics were right: the burgers rock. I' recommend it highly and make sure to bring cash, as they don't take cards.

Next up, time for something I've not had in years: a Magnolia cupcake. There was always a bit of a line as everyone in the city knew what a treat the cupcakes and other baked goods at Magnolia were, but the Sex In The City reference catapulted the West Village bakery to a level of uber fame that make it impossible for anyone from New York to ever get anything there again. The lines of 20+ people (aka tourists) snaking around the block are more than enough to send any New Yorker running in the other direction. We just don't do lines like that. While I was Christmas shopping this year, though, I discovered little ol' Magnolia had opened up a big fancy outpost on the corner of 6th Avenue and 49th Street. 1240 Avenue of the Americas, to be exact. On a cold Saturday afternoon in late January, there aren't many tourists in town and the place was deserted. Just do it, especially if you've never been. The butter cream frosting is the best ever.

Once back in the East Village, given the tempurature and my friend's addiction to chocolate, he suggested we stop by Max Brenner's (141 Second Avenue at 9th Street) for a cup of hot cocoa. I walk by this place at least once/day and haven't gotten anything there ever. Too touristy, but today I was a tourist. The hot chocolate is amazing. Good to the last drop and worth every cent.

Next time you're in New York, or if you live here, do yourself a favor and check out one or all of these spots. You'll thank me once you do. Trust me on this one.