Ken Hoffman's New York City

"Who are you?"

Huh?

"What's your name?"

Ken Hoffman.

SMACK!

John Brescia's meaty right hand came across my face like a challenge to a duel. I was stunned. I didn't know how to react. Nobody's ever hit me before just for being me.

"I want to thank you, that's all."

You couldn't send a card?

This was about 20 years ago. The year before, I was in New York City over July 4, and visited Lombardi's Coal Oven Pizza on Spring Street, near Little Italy. I knew about Lombardi's. I heard all the stories. It was the first licensed pizzeria in America. The oven says "1905" in black, burned-in numbers. That oven gets to 1,000 degrees, and cooks one of Lombardi's legendary pies in about 2 minutes. The pizzas have a slightly charred bottom and edges.

You could run a locomotive off Lombardi's coal burning oven. When people talk about great New York pizza, this is where they start … where it started.

I ordered a sausage pizza, polished it off and was on my way.

I came back home and wrote one of my first Drive-Thru Gourmet reviews about Lombardi's Coal Oven Pizza in the Houston Chronicle. I went into the history of the restaurant, described the joint and raved about the pizza. It was the best thing I've ever eaten.

My review was picked up by newspapers around the country. I guess readers went to Lombardi's and mentioned my little review.

A year later, I was being slapped by the owner.

"Come let me show you, we have your review framed and it's on the wall in our main room. We all talk about how nobody here knows who you are and where you're from or anything about you. Let me take a real photo and we'll put that up on the wall," Brescia said.

Today, my photo is on the wall, wearing a Houston Rockets cap, holding a mushroom pie, smiling like a fool. I'm one "click" away from eating that pie. That was the deal I cut for letting them have my picture.

I'm on the wall in the main dining room, between Robert De Niro and Yogi Berra.

Tourist: "We know Ken Hoffman, he's a local newspaper writer down in Texas … but who are those other two guys around him?"

In 2008, after Hurricane Ike hit Houston, I was in front of my house picking up branches and debris. The phone rang. It was Brescia, calling from Lombardi's.

"You OK? I'm watching the news and they said the hurricane hit you pretty hard. You need anything? Just tell me what I can do to help you … and I'll do it."

Thanks, but I'm fine. A tree fell in front of my house but there's no damage to my house. It was actually pretty cool to watch a hurricane pass over my neighborhood.

"Are you sure I can't help? We consider you family at Lombardi's."

That surprised me almost as much as when he slapped me, but this hurt less. I do feel at home in Lombardi's.

Annual traditions

Every year, I spend July 4 week in New York City. It's my big vacation, my favorite week; I love every minute of it. There's always something to do, somewhere to go, some reason to get out at night.

Here's how I do it.

Around June 1, I start poking around Priceline's "Name Your Own Price" for hotels. It takes a couple of weeks for me to settle on a hotel because I start at a ridiculously low price and work my way up. I also keep my eye on Travelocity.com, Quikbook.com, Expedia and Hotels.com. It's like a battle of wills, and I have all the time in the world to stare them down.

I usually wind up paying about $180 a night for a 4 or 5-star hotel in Times Square, Midtown East, Midtown West or Central Park South. I've stayed in very famous hotels and places I've never heard of. I'm not a picky hotel person. My only "musts" are a clean bathroom, ESPN and WiFi.

I do the same thing with flights. I check each day for bargains. New York has three area airports: LaGuardia, Newark and Kennedy. Try to land and leave out of LaGuardia. It's the closest, cheapest and fastest cab ride to Manhattan. One time I went to Newark, and the bus to Manhattan got a flat on the Pulaski Skyway. We had to wait an hour for a repair truck, and they wouldn't let us off the bus. Not fun.

After I get settled in my hotel, I get a subway pass. But I try to walk most everywhere. If I'm staying in Midtown East, I'll take the No. 6 train to Lombardi's, then walk it off back to the hotel. I eat so much during my week in New York that walking helps me break even.

I like New York for a lot of reasons. One, I spent a few years growing up there. I went to P.S. 125 before my mother freaked out about the rough neighborhood and moved us to New Jersey. I remember the rent on our crummy, cramped apartment on 125th Street. It was $110 a month.

Today, if I wanted to buy an apartment in that building, it would cost 10 times my annual salary.

I go to a baseball game each July 4 week. Either the Yankees or Mets are playing at home. If you catch a break, the Yankees will be home the first part of the week, before the Mets come back for a homestand starting July 4. Mets tickets are a lot cheaper. But there's something magical about Yankee Stadium.

When New Yorkers say "the stadium," they're not talking about where the Mets play.

My big event is the Nathan's Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest in Coney Island on July 4. I've been to the last 15 contests. It's crazy time, with 30,000 crazy people packing the corner of Surf and Stillwell to watch even crazier people eat frankfurters.

About 10 years ago, I called the promoter and asked if I could be a judge. I thought it would make an interesting "behind the scenes" story. I'm what you call an old-fashioned "hard-hitting" columnist.

The promoter, George Shea, said sure. I reported to the Judges Tent at 10 a.m. and was handed a striped judges shirt, cap and clipboard. I looked like an NBA referee. Because I was a rookie, I was assigned to count the hot dogs and buns eaten by a contestant on the far end of the table, who had no chance of winning. I think he ate maybe 10 hot dogs, while Kobayashi crushed 53 dogs that day.

I'm pretty sure that I can eat 10 dogs on a good day.

I have been a judge at the Hot Dog Contest every year since. In fact, I don't like to brag about my journalistic accomplishments, but I am now the Dean of Hot Dog Counters in the world. I hold the record for most contests judged and most consecutive contests judged.

Last year, I was assigned to Matt "Megatoad" Stonie. He finished second with 56 hot dogs. My career is moving along nicely.

The Macy's fireworks show on July 4 is spectacular. Get to the edge of Manhattan - east or westside, depending on where they're setting off the fireworks - around 5 p.m. for a good curbside place to watch the show. The shock and awe start at 9 p.m., telecast live on NBC. Don't expect a lot of elbow room. The streets are packed body to body. Be safe and smart. I keep my wallet in my underpants this night. Or leave your wallet and purse in your hotel room and stick a $20 bill in your shoe. I always get a Mister Softee chocolate shake on my way back from the fireworks. I respect tradition.

Exploring city favorites

I've taken the Circle Line cruise around Manhattan. It's about three hours, and there's no stopping for red lights and gridlock, the plague of sightseeing bus tours. If you take the boat ride, remember: board early and grab an upper deck chair on the port side of the boat. That's the left side, for you landlubbers. The Circle Line boat travels counter-clockwise around the island. If you sit on the left side, you'll always be closest to the shore. No standing up, no other tourists' bald spots in your camera shots.

There's a hole in the wall on Second Avenue in the Lower East Side called Pommes Frites. They only sell french fries, but they're the best french fries I've ever had. Twice-fried, just like in Belgium, the land of french fries - which makes no sense geographically. Who cares? School is out for the summer.

Pommes Frites has an exclusive deal with a potato farmer in Colorado, so the fries have the exact consistency and sugar content that great french fries require. I respect obsession with quality. If you go late, after midnight, you'll stand in line with some rather interesting creatures of the night.

The Carnegie Deli serves huge portions, and the waiters present huge bills. But you're worth it, for the pastrami sandwiches alone. Don't worry about looking like a nerd tourist, everybody takes photos of their food at the Carnegie Deli. Try to sit near the back, on the right. That's the table Woody Allen used for the deli scenes in "Broadway Danny Rose." The walls are crammed with photos of celebrities. Play "Dead or Alive" while waiting for your food.

Guests are seated at communal tables. You'll meet people from around the world. I once sat next to rocker Bob Seger at the Carnegie.

Riding a rented bike in Central Park is safe and fun. One of these years, I'm going to be brave and ride a bike everywhere. Those taxi drivers are pretty nuts, though.

Times Square at night is so lit up, you could perform surgery at the corner of Eighth and 42nd Street. Walking around is an experience. There's the Naked Cowboy, who's wearing cowboy boots and tighty whitey Jockeys, so he's not really naked. Just underdressed. Slip him $5, and he'll take a photo with you. The real treat, for the same fiver, is a chocolate cigar at the Roxy Deli. It's a rolled up coffee cake with chocolate fudge, nuts and cream cheese filling. When you're done eating one, with all the powdered sugar on your face, you'll look like Tony Montana in "Scarface."

The Brooklyn Diner on 43rd Street has a "15 Bite Hot Dog" for $20. It's enormous. It looks those long thin balloons that clowns use to make poodles and giraffes. Yeah, I'd like to see Nathan's champ Joey Chestnut eat 69 of these.

Take the 1, 2 or 3 train up to Harlem for German chocolate cake at Make My Cake on 116th Street and a tour of the Apollo Theatre. I was there the day of the memorial service for Michael Jackson was held in 2009. It was very moving. For almost 10 minutes, they stopped selling illegal bootlegs of Jackson's CD spread out on blankets across the street from the Apollo.

I cram much, much more into my July 4 NYC visits, but this'll get you started. If you have questions or want suggestions, recommendations, you know my email, or you can follow me on Twitter. I'll be there next week. I'll send photos.