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Now that Jack Frost has begun to blow his icy winds in our direction, many avian victuallers in the metropolitan area have spruced up their table d'hôte, prix fixe, À la carte and other intimidating-sounding menus in order to attract this season, a smarter set, instead of just the usual hangers-on, too stupid to fly south for the winter. As a service to those who never quite mastered the V formation, as well as for everybirdy else who won't get all hot and bothered (we are endothermic, after all) draggin' their feathers around in the snow, so to speak, we present this survey of the latest action.
The House with the Sports Car That Just Sits There in the Driveway Under a Tarp, Covered in Bird Shit
This neighborhood favorite has been around for as long as any of us can remember. We all have pretty short life spans, so that's not saying much. But still...Anyway, regulars swear by the crumbs that the owners toss carelessly into the patio. Nobody here cares a hoot about presentation. It's all about the portion sizes. You'd think they'd never heard of minimalism, which, of course, they haven't. The worms are passable, but with prices as retro as this, nobody's crying over some lousy worms.
[18] [12] [6] [$7]
The Yard Where a Bunch of Small, Dead Animals Are Shoved Under the Hedges
What's new here this year? Suet, that's what! Is it pricey? Yes it is. Do you have to stand sideways on a tree trunk and peck through a wire cage fastened to a branch with an old wire hanger by somebody who obviously didn't have the right stuff for the Boy Scouts? It's true. Yet none of that matters. We're talking suet. (And not that homemade chazzerai they tried to palm off last year, but the real deal -- bought in a store! ) This is the place to go to impress your mate. Be prepared to shell out, though. Speaking of which, the dining area is usually hopping with squirrels, so come early.
[28] [28] [25] [$52]
Fat Boy Slim's 
$$$
If you haven't heard of Fat Boy's, it's safe to say you're not from around here. (Canada perhaps?) Named for the big, huge (did we mention HUGE?) orange cat who always seems to be hanging around just under the feeder, this joint is a conundrum. One the one hand, the seed here is really good and the variety is superb. Unlike some places that promise a healthy mix, but end up just sprinkling a few sunflower casings on an otherwise monotonous stack, Fat Boy's really delivers. And we can overlook that the holder is cracked and held together with electrical tape (believe us when we tell you that it just doesn't go with the rest of the decor). We're also not put off by that hard glob of -- what-- 3, 4 year-old uneaten whatever it is because nobody has bothered to chip it off and clean the container. No, we're not bothered by these things, for, as we have mentioned, the seed is really good. Instead, it's the cat always lurking that always makes us want to eat and run -- or fly, as the case may be. Judging by the blue jay feathers that always seem to be sprinkled on the lawn like pepper flakes on fancy-pants pizza, it's clear that some of our readers fail to take our advice. So don't be a dodo. Enjoy the spread, but don't linger. At Fat Boy's, lingering is definitely not for the birds.
[18] [27 [23] [$25]
Woody's Way, Way Up High in the Tree 
$$$$
Some of our reviewers think this place is Über-pretentious, mostly because of their annoying ad: "Come for the grub; stay for our amazing view." As many have pointed out, the spécialité de la mason here is maybe 35 or 40 feet above ground level -- not exactly taxing the ole' thrill-o-meter for those of use who habitually commute hundreds of feet higher than that. The grub is very, very good, though, and well worth the trip. The truth is, unless you're a chickadee or a finch, you're probably not going to get all worked up over the view. But do them a little kindness and pretend to be, anyway. You'll be sure to make the proprietor happy. And the grub could care less, so who could it hurt?
[21] [23 [26] [$44]
McMansion on the Hill 
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
It's not the pale moon that excites us. That thrills and delights us. Nor is it the over-the-top architecture commissioned by the nouveau-riche owners of this dot com pleasure palace. Nor the liver & onions-shaped swimming pool. Nor the gaudy Greco-Roman statuary posed in various stages of contrived eroticism out back. Oh, no, it's just the nearness of the five (count 'em, 5!) HEATED birdbaths on the grounds. One dip in one of these hedonistic puddles, and you'll be saying: "I can''t remember what I just ate. Give me a pig's foot and a bottle of beer for all I care. Just keep the juice on and the liquid flowing. Do we understand each other?" If you go to just one place in your life where it's worth it to endure the outrageously expensive dreck just to bask in the setting, go here. There's a big dog on the property, but he's a harmless moron and afraid of wild turkeys. Actually, so are we a little bit.
[3] [19 [30] [$72]
Hawk's Delight 
$$
Are some birds dimwits? Sadly, yes they are. They fail to heed the warnings and to take proper precautions prior to supping on the admittedly scrumptious feast that this reliable standby offers year in and year out. Who doesn't love the fabulous nosh spread out so lovingly that a fully-populated dining area looks like a scene from a Disney cartoon with little peeps chirping playfully above while woodchucks and other adorable ground rodents feast on the remnants below? Who doesn't like dinner just ripe for the plucking, practically begging to be eaten right off the snow pack? Who could possibly be excluded from this group? Certainly not the fellows who give this eponymous eatery its reputation for thrills gone bad. By all means, delight in the bill of fare. But remain vigilant. Failure to do so may ensure that the answer to the question: "what's good on the menu today?" may just be: "Why, you are, you crazy bird!"
[17] [4 [11] [$23]
A Word About What Our Symbols Mean
Nothing.
