Everyone’s a critic, and apparently it’s never too soon to start.

That’s why David Fishman, an Upper West Sider who turned 12 last month, decided to take himself out for dinner one night last week. His parents had called him at home to say they were running late, suggesting that he grab some takeout at the usual hummus place.

Hummus, again? David thought he could do better than that.

He had recently passed by the newly opened Salumeria Rosi, a few blocks from his home, and had been intrigued by the reflective black back wall, the cuts of dried pork hanging from the ceiling, the little jars of cured olives and artichokes adorning the walls. If it was O.K. with his mom (and it turned out it was), he wanted to try that instead.

David aspires to be a food critic — he has some vague notion that he could make a living writing for the Zagat guides — and the new Italian spot on Amsterdam Avenue near 73rd Street seemed worthy of investigation.

That night, Tuesday, turned out to be one of the first that the restaurant was open to the public. David requested a menu, which the hostess handed him, and decided that it was within his budget ($25). Then he asked for a table for one and waited to see what she’d say. A year before, he had been turned away from a half-empty restaurant in Montauk and told that it did not serve children unaccompanied by adults. “I was angry, but I didn’t show it,” he said. “What can you do?”

This mindfuck hits all the NYT local beat puff standards:

• Precocious rich kid with an eccentric, Rushmore-esque mien
• Exasperated but proud parents
• Comical treatment of money
• The feeling that the whole thing takes place in a parallel universe

No more, NYT!  No more!  Do your job!  For shame, Susan Dominus!

The menu items were…good, for the most part.  The chitterlings were skewered and covered in a mustard sauce of some sort, and despite the somewhat inconvenient texture - like chewing rubber, at least for the first few minutes - I enjoyed them.  They reminded me of the fried intestines I had at a restaurant in Flushing’s Chinatown, although while those were akin to undercooked calamari, these were decidedly more delicate.

The pig’s head and bean dish came out in a light broth, and seemed to me outrageously British.  The head meat was fatty but it melted in my mouth easily, and the beans’ presence - firmer than the meat - created a wonderful inversion to what one normally sees on menus.  That being said, the dish was somewhat bland: the meat was hardly seasoned, and the beans, while rich from the presence of all that head fat, did not make up for it.

Still, I would describe last night as a qualified success.  It’s wonderful to see so many people digging into offal - thanks, Eater! - but at the end of the day, it’s just animal parts.  What makes the difference - and particularly with offal, with it’s often odd textures and flavors - is the chef’s touch, and I wanted more of that.  But I’m not complaining, really - it was pretty damn good.

They’ve not played much, but this show, being somewhat related to CMJ, was well-attended, and I think people were getting into the songs.  Totally worth it, the fact that it was free notwithstanding.

First: ‘psychedelic’ is too vague as an unmodified descriptor.  There are bands from long ago - Quiksilver Messenger Service, Black Sabbath, Jefferson Airplane - and from today - Comets On Fire, Howlin Rain, Awesome Color, Black Mountain - whose sound might be described as psychedelic.  They’re also without a doubt heavy: loud guitars, Bonham-inspired drums, shrieking, soloing, Hammond organ.   At the opposite pole, we have some newish groups like Amazing Baby, Passion Pit, and MGMT who are keeping things strange without rocking out too hard.  It’s music for the kind of stoners who wander in the woods and wear bright secondhand sweaters, not the more well-known, bass player-in-a-metal-band, basement-dwelling variety.

Second: MGMT, Chairlift, etc. aren’t really all that psychedelic.  Let’s be honest about this.  There’s so much crazy music out there - minimal techno, free jazz, avant-garde classical composition - that to describe a band like MGMT as psychedelic seems a bit much.  A lot of these bands are really pop bands with a gloss of the unconventional, the latter of which is often manifested in outrageous stage costumery or lighting.

Now the show was poorly promoted.  A Friday night?  The show shoulda been sold out and hardly anyone was there.  $10 was way too steep a price for the lack of fun on offer, and to make matters worse a massive overhead light was kept on during Amazing Baby’s entire performance.  Ugh.

1. Teengirl Fantasy, City Center, Casiotone for the Painfully Alone @ Silent Barn, 10-25-08

2. Pre, Mei Shi @ Market Hotel, 10-25-08

3. Suckers @ Glasslands, 10-24-08

4. Dinosaur Feathers @ Pianos, 10-20-08

5. Violens, Amazing Baby, Chairlift @ Danbro 10-17-08

-Prince & Broadway, 4:00pm

I’ve liked the songs I’ve heard off of Dillinger Four’s new album, Civil War.  There’s a bit more of a high-low dynamic, and maybe a bit more pop, but it’s still very distinctive, very dirty punk rock.