The Super Bowl is an event not just because of the football, but because of the food. It's an excuse to get plastered and snack on unfashionably delicious bar food on a Sunday afternoon, football fan or not. The wonderful thing about this is that restaurants often "go deep" and present their offerings in a catering-friendly form, so you can either (A) come to the party with the best snacks or (B) host one at your own digs, and not have to worry about preparing oven-baked sheet after sheet of Pizza Rolls and Bagel Bites, or even worse, trying to get someone to deliver during the game. Of course, there's always pizza, which you can order a few hours before the day of, but why go for the normal grub when you can hit something slightly more exotic. In other words: which restaurants are helping New Yorkers get one through the uprights, and bringing forth good grub to the game?

For those of you who are from the South -- or, if you're anything like me, have spent an inordinate amount of time in South -- you're probably well aware that despite the best efforts of some of the most talented culture gormandizers, restaurateurs and chefs in the country, New York still can't produce certain Southern culinary cooking the way the Real McCoy can. There's an egregious lack of chicken biscuits available in this town. Sure, you can get your Cheerwine fix, but do you really want to have to go to the B & T fratboy-infested Brother Jimmy's for one? The BBQ in this town? Pretty good. The grits, the scrapple, the important sides? Not so much. But one place, it seems, has managed to transport a solid Sweet Tea to this town, packaging and all.

New York's worst attractions and better ideas.

Are you tired of hokey recession specials that never end up scratching your gnawing, thirsty itch? We are rapidly becoming a city of broke drunks, thus it is vital we learn how to be the best broke drunks we can be. If you have no job, no prospects, and only a few bucks, but still maintain flawless taste, then check out the top ways to get your drink on without further damaging the already broken bank.

The first thing you see is the Kennedy teeth: lots, in a broad but no-nonsense grin. Being born with a platinum spoon in her mouth gave Kick Kennedy a taste for philanthropic causes, music, history, and -- journalism? “I’m an intern at Rolling Stone,“ she says. “They’re a good group of people -- and it gives me a chance to explore two of my interests: music and writing.“ Which just challenges the theory that journalism isn’t a job for grown-ups because Kick Kennedy has a very old head. Always has.

Carnivores, take your ‘cue ...