Admittedly, eating out in New York has been a little exhausting. Dinner each night is always an occasion. At ten o'clock (that's 7:00 p.m. Pacific Standard Time) we clean up, gather the disposable camera and the MetroCard, and hit the town to find something to eat. We've been trying a new street every night. A typical example: Amsterdam Avenue on the Upper West Side. We pass by a homey, rustic American bistro with mismatched gingham napkins and recycled wine bottles that serve as water pitchers. Across the street is Flor de Mayo, a Mexican restaurant recommended by my guidebook. Farther south, we pass overpriced Italian, a hip pizza joint, an intimate candlelit French restaurant. We settle for a "Latin" place that serves a dozen different flavors of slushy. We sit outside under the plastic umbrellas and struggle anew to choose our order.