We dancing fools survived cruel deprivation in the years when there was only Decade to make us feel eternally 23. But now, after sneering at our white latex booties and our Travolta moves, New York loves the seventies again. Limelight is having its second fifteen minutes, and Regine is back at Rage with billowing cleavage and the more or less well-vacuumed faces of her pals. Surprise: Rage's food is first-rate (guaranteed at least till hired whisk Michael Scheiman exits).

Can your love's knees navigate serious salsa? Come to Jimmy's Bronx Cafe to fuel on hearty Latino soups and empanadas or giant lobster tail, then let Jimmy's amiable crew twirl you out on the floor and dance till dawn. Or the emergency room. Whatever.

I'm so out, clue me in.

Feel the heat at Joe's Pub, Lot 61, and Moomba, where I wonder if those gangly chickadees sipping their tangy Moombapolitans actually care how good the food is. Clementine, where chef-owner John Schenk's touch is surer than ever, draws a mix of young grunge and metropolitan headbands. At their most uninhibited, they can be deafening. That certain clan, SoHo tradefolk and fashion sachems, hangs out at Mercer Kitchen, where the food can be good, very good, or simply puzzling and you have a choice of bright lights next to the grill or ghostly cellar shadows. I love the look, hate the feel. The inferno at BondSt flames on. Give thanks for the new third floor and what is possibly New York's least Zen and most vibrant play on Japanese tradition. Thin-sliced fluke sashimi in frozen shiso slush, yuzu-sprinkled tuna, the mustard-spiked beef tartare with gold leaf aquiver, and a trio of omakase sushi sculpted by sensai Hiroshi Nakahara had us raving.

What's really worth a trek?

The savory rijsttafel and warm welcome at Java in Brooklyn is so cheap ($27.50 for two), you can afford to hire a limo. The fragrant sizzle of chicken, lamb, or brains cooked on a fiery hot iron is the lure at the Pakistani Tabaq, half a block from the Jackson Heights-Roosevelt stop on the subway. Book at eight any Monday for ribs or the famous chicken and waffles at Wells Restaurant and stay for a night of swing with the sixteen-man Harlem Renaissance band. Jump up and jitterbug and don't mind the tourists.

Why don't we have decent restaurants on the Upper West Side?

Stop whining already. Is Picholine chopped liver? Dare I mention the enduring legacy of splendid cured seafood at Barney Greengrass, especially the eggs softly scrambled with sturgeon and onions? Or the veritas of Pizza Joint's sausage-and-peppers hero? Two Two Two draws fans across the great green divide for its costly decadence of truffle and foie gras. In a rare act of charity for those who feel nurtured by the place's Victorian-bed-and-breakfast charm, Frank Valenza has added a $36 prix fixe lunch.

Tingling Asian flavors keep bringing me back to Rain on West 82nd. And last month, the Rainmakers jumped on the Latino craze by installing Patría-prepped Alex Garcia around the corner at Calle Ocho, their Columbus Avenue space (formerly Main Street). Vong and Typhoon Brewery veteran James Chew is the consulting brain behind the sizzle of the woks and steamers at Ruby Foo's on Broadway, a dramatic two-story stage set designed by David Rockwell.

Like so many Upper West Siders who don't think it's happening unless it's happening downtown, I've clocked untold hours in traffic making Spartina in TriBeCa my neighborhood hangout. But with Stephen Kalt cloning himself at Spazzia, on the Columbus Avenue site of the late Museum Cafe, his splendid grilled pizzas and rustic Mediterranean cooking will now be just footsteps away.

My guest is a vegetarian, and money is not the issue.

Advertise how deeply you care by treating your vegophile to the $95 vegetarian tasting at Lespinasse. While you wallow in stuffed pigs' feet at Café Boulud, your chum can find fulfillment in the "Le Potager" listings -- butternut- squash soup with ricotta gnocchi, artichoke-arugula-black-olive ravioli, splendid root-vegetable cassoulet. Bolo, Spartina, Tapika, The Screening Room, and The Lobster Club all have lively vegetable options, as do most Italian and Indian restaurants. I once asked for a plate made up of all the side dishes at Mesa Grill and was wowed. The vegetarian niece I sent to Union Square Cafe was totally blissed out by the boodle of options. She thought the menu was designed just for her.