Visitors to the Big Apple (and residents too) depend on 3am pizza and anytime delivery like nowhere else in the world. But our idea of late-night eats extends far beyond drunk snacking. After all, in one of the great food cities of the world, why settle for anything less than the best? Here is our roundup of the best late-night eats, divided into street food, restaurants, and special late-night menu additions worth staying up for.

It was the love of my life, Amanda Noa’s, birthday last night and due to circumstances beyond my control we were unable to consider dining until almost 11pm. But late night fare in this town is getting swankier, if not better, so I did have some choices. I wasn’t going to get away with our usual afterhours spots Veselka or Kellogg’s Diner. It came down to the recently opened Marble Lane at the Dream Hotel or La Esquina. She opted out on the steak-centric Marble and we scooted off to La Esquina.

I was born and raised in Jackson Heights, Queens, a nice enough place. I had friends, went to PS 69 (okay, get it out of your system, I’ve heard every joke possible), played Little League Baseball, and on my birthday, had the Kitchen Sink at Jahns on on 37th Avenue. I was popular, I was brash, I questioned everything. I once had a run-in over my stolen baseball glove with a kid a little bit older than me. His name was Johnny Genzale, and he was, generally speaking, a punk, a “must” to avoid. I got my glove back, and after that scrap, he crossed the street every time he saw me. He grew up to be punk superstar Johnny Thunders (New York Dolls and The Heartbreakers). At Max’s Kansas City we hung out once in a while as two kids from the neighborhood. He was always good to me. I was extremely upset when he died, but I was also surprised he lived so long. Dee Dee Ramone told me that he had been whacked by Louisiana assholes. When I was old enough to know better, I went down to the old East Village, which resembles its current incarnation for only a few moments once in a while, and only at a few places, like Lit or maybe Veselka at 3am.

What was that line Bogie tossed at Ingrid Bergman to get her to run off with that dapper old guy at the end of Casablanca? Oh yeah: ”We’ll always have Paris.” I guess he was right, as there doesn’t seem to be an end to how much Clubland loves to associate with the romanticism of gay old Paree. Everybody is on the edge of their seat for Le Baron, which somebody told me will be “The Baron” when it slams into lower Mulberry Street. Indeed it will slam, as young romantics everywhere see it as the second coming. It’s actually the third coming, as they already have one in Paris and Tokyo, too.

Lit’s 8th anniversary was, as advertised, a zillion great DJs and 5 zillion great people. I met up with Ron Jeremy on 9th street at the 24 hour staple, Veselka with two very broad-minded broads. They’d have to be able to put up with our antics. We talked about how Veselka was really the last of the really good Polish/Ukrainian late night restaurants that kept eons of club denizens alive. Cafe Kiev on 7th street was the standard, but alas, the owners kept tweaking their winning formula until it just wasn't any good anymore. In the old days, it was common to see Steve Rubell in a tux at the counter or a rock band that just headlined The Ritz and their groupies eating kielbasa and mushroom barley soup while taking turns to shoot up in the rest room. Every club employee in town fueled up before they crashed out. Kiev was the after hours for the after hours clubs and a very big part of nightlife. Although always a tamer version, Veselka still delivers great food. Ron and I talked about many a night eating way too late after way too much fun. After dinner we did the walk of shame fame to Lit just three blocks away. Three blocks from the stuffed cabbage and horseradish beets and the polite stares from diners who wanted to say hey to Ron but whispered and giggled instead.

A Moldy Peach & indie rock startlet kick cuteness at home

The morning after the premiere of the chick-flick-to-end-all-chick-flicks Bride Wars, co-screenwriter/Saturday Night Live new It-Girl Casey Wilson and her best friend and writing partner June Raphael do their best not to talk over each other while dishing on Long Island wedding factories, bedazzled cell phones, and what makes seemingly normal girls go bonkers.

On the dawn of a new era in America, musician, birthday boy, and former BlackBook intern Ryan Adams writes in from the road to rave about his favorite Republic.

As ardent followers of Gossip Girl, we really don't mind the plot inconsistencies, Chace Crawford's limited acting range, or just how increasingly unwatchable all plots not even tangentially associated with Blair Waldorf have become. In fact, those three million of us who watch the show regularly are willing to overlook these discrepancies (and the kids' nominal non-drinking age) so long as their nods to Manhattan nightlife are nothing short of sharp. Tracking the show's eternal romp through the city has become something of a cottage industry.