Our annual roundup of the New York area’s best doctors, from primary-care physicians to psychiatrists to pediatric gastroenterologists, as selected by their peers. Plus: Doctors and nurses polled about the best and worst parts of their jobs, and a roundtable of anonymous M.D.’s tell all: traits of their favorite patients (tasteful gift-giving), the biggest mistakes they’ve ever made (dropping a baby, for example), and more.
Tina Brown is credited with helping spawn the celebrity-obsessed tabloid, but also for strengthening The New Yorker’s hold on intellectual-journalistic supremacy. Will her new book about Princess Di persuade the public to join her once again at the convergence of highbrow and low?
Debating the environmental and aesthetic benefits of Ziploc bag–dryers, hand-cranked washing machines, and other manifestations of eco-consumerism.
Richardson favored for veep.
Girlfriend Tory Burch says she won't get in the saddle.
Filmmaker Abel Ferrara and Scott Pardo quarrel over film credit.
Controversial size census.
Ten more to go.
With public enemy no. 1, Paris Hilton, temporarily behind bars, the city turned its attention to more-mundane threats.
If we’re not afraid, have the terrorists won? An assessment of past terror threats.
Ryan McGinley loads up his EuroVan with naked youth and heads to California.
Donald Trump, Freaks and Geeks, complicated handshakes on the horizon.
Rupert Murdoch has known how to save The Wall Street Journal for a long time.
Thoughtful swim trunks and other Father’s Day gifts.
New store openings this week.
A trio of luxury brands is coming to a neighborhood better known for bargains and stereos.
An age-appropriately hip Williamsburgian.
A dull addition to the Time Warner Center.
Spaghetti with strawberries.
Preparing a kitchen for dinner-party duty.
The appeal of neo-hippies.
Mansions galore in Greenwich.
Where are the old-money mansions? The new McEstates? The bargain deals (relatively speaking)? The taxonomy of a prime suburb.
Edward Tufte and the triumph of good design over evil.
A so-so Edith Piaf biopic; a great portrayal of domesticated zombies.
How do you make a documentary look striking enough that it commands the viewer’s attention—without putting a too-slick gloss on a rough subject?
Michael Moore’s personal Rx.
Plays from A. R. Gurney and Neil LaBute disappoint in the usual ways.
Six reasons Broadway isn’t boffo in Sin City.
What are the world’s best untranslated novels?
A decent premise goes nowhere original in Meadowlands.
It isn’t absolutely necessary to hide out all summer from your enemies, or abuse a guitar, or undergo major surgery. You can disappear with these TV shows.
Finding thoughtfulness beneath Richard Serra’s bombast.
A critic’s five favorite public artworks, all on view for free.
Our deliberately oversimplified guide to who falls where on our taste hierarchies.
Summer means group shows, and these are the week’s standouts.
Annotated Shakespeare for tots.
A retiring ballerina, a tap superstar, and a beloved company give sure-to-sell-out-early performances.
Highlights from the Brick Theater’s Pretentious Festival, a good-natured send-up of oblique and experimental Off–Off Broadway fare.
Like the last wave a few decades ago, the second frozen-yogurt craze comes to us via the West Coast and shows no sign of ebbing.
Is Dad a meat-and-potatoes guy? Take him here on Father’s Day, June 17.
Readers sound off on Jim Cramer, Tom Ford, and more.
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