(Photo by Peter Bixler)

The Tribeca Film Festival is off to a strong start, with the stars turning out for last night's world premiere of "Baby Mama" at the Ziegfeld. We were in attendance at the official after-party, held at the Museum of Modern Art, which could have been mistaken for a "Saturday Night Live" reunion. In addition to Lorne Michaels and "Baby Mama" stars Amy Poehler and Tina Fey, guests at the MoMa included a long list of present and former cast-members, like Jimmy Fallon (who eventually left the party with former "SNL" player Chris Kattan), Rachel Dratch, Jason Sudeikis, Fred Armisen, Molly Shannon and even Chevy Chase. But the superstar of the evening was Steve Martin, who sauntered in wearing a panama hat, spent most of his time at a table with Lorne and Chevy and later departed without obliging the fans who were waiting outside for an autograph. (That said, Martin's role in "Baby Mama" is much funnier than the rest of the movie.)

Other big name guests included Poehler's hilarious husband, Will Arnett, Seth Green (of "Family Guy" / "Austin Powers" / "Robot Chicken" fame), and Dax Shepard (whom I profiled in an interview piece last year), who doted on girlfriend Kristen Bell, star of "Forgetting Sarah Marshall," most of the night.

Several sad people outside were hoping to catch a glimpse of Robert De Niro, who wasn't even there. One such fan informed me he was also there to see Frank Oz (better known as the voice of Yoda), who was my next-door neighbor on the Upper West Side for many years, and who I didn't see at the MoMa. Just as I was breaking the news that the Oz / De Niro gala must have been on the other side of town, Lorne Michaels walked outside. One eager fan yelled, "Lorne, can I get a picture?" to which Lorne responded, "I'm good, thanks," and jumped in a car.

A 30-second clip from inside the party, taken on my date's cell-phone from the future, is below.

If you're like me, right now you're probably sitting in your cubicle, going crazy, wishing it was 6pm on a Friday so you could leave your godforsaken office immediately, and expedite your standing plans to drown your sorrows in a tall glass of Scotch. So it's particularly unfortunate when you discover, as I just did, that in fact it's only 4:45pm on a Tuesday.

But if I was attending tonight's Greek-themed Vino-Versity class at Divine Bar West, maybe I wouldn't need to be talked down off the ledge. The event, which runs from 6:30pm to 8:30pm, is described thus:

A wine tasting forum designed to teach the novice to advanced wine enthusiast how to enjoy and decipher the intricacies of wine. Taste over 24 incredible wines, from whites to reds to late harvest desserts, from Macedonia, Peloponnese, Santorini, and Crete, among others ... A fabulous buffet of Mediterranean specialties, including stuffed grape leaves, roasted lamb and garlic tartlets, lemon-feta spread, and spanakopita, plus olives, tapenades and cheeses, will transport you right to Greece. Aside from tasting, you’ll learn fabulous wine facts and tidbits, such as how to pronounce the major red grape, Agiorgitiko, by saying "Ahhhhh, your Yittiko is showing!" 

Tickets may still be available, but call Divine Bar ASAP to find out. Admission will cost you $38 in advance, or $48 at the door if it's not sold out. And if you can't make it tonight, don't sweat it--apparently this is a weekly event, which means that while Tuesdays may never be the new Fridays, they just might turn out to be the new Thursdays.

(Photo borrowed from GoodWineUnder20)

In the wake of last weekend's midtown crane accident, New Yorkers pause to share fond memories of Fubar, the local bar that was destroyed in the crash. NY Times

The term drunkorexia--which was recently used by the NY Times to describe the growing number of girls who take the concept of "liquid diet" a bit more literally than the rest of us--is finally catching on. Mediabistro

Down by the Hipster has intel on the soon-to-open bar Antik, located in the Bowery locale formerly occupied by Marion's Marquee. "It is the latest creation from nightlife impresarios Larry Kramer and Craig Koenig, the team behind the rustic-lounge Retreat," they report. DBTH

Anthony Minghella--who directed such films as "The English Patient" and "The Talented Mr. Ripley"--has passed away at the age of 54. Page 6

Above: Houndstooth co-owners Nicholas Cohen and Kevin McKenna pose with investor Diarmuid Hogan at their as-yet unfinished new bar.

Nicholas Cohen, Kevin McKenna and Dave Renehan, the owners of West 37th Street bar Stitch, have a new bar and grill in the works. Cohen tells us that Houndstooth--located at 37th Street and 8th Avenue, in the space formerly occupied by the old Chock Full O' Nuts store--will make its debut between late March and mid-April.

Weighing in at a massive 6,800 square feet (larger than Stitch), the bi-level spot hopes to attract midtown's fashion and corporate crowds looking for a casual-chic place for lunch meetings, after-work boozing, pre-dinner cocktails, etc. And with three separate rooms, all equipped with private bars and plasma HDTVs, it should be able to accommodate everyone--even the many colorful characters who tend to populate the neighborhood thanks to nearby attractions like the DMV, Penn Station and Madison Square Garden.

For the gossip whores, let it be known that Houndstooth is also part-owned by the members of the Grammy-nominated band Snow Patrol, so the bar may manage to attract the occasional celebrity presence, too.

As for the food, the owners say we can expect a "fresh, local, organic, British-style gastropub," which means Houndstooth will be hoping to establish itself as an upscale alternative to midtown's many dining wastelands, without being so nice that you can't wander in to get hammered after (or during) work.

Houndstooth Bar & Grill
520 8th Avenue
No phone yet
www.houndstoothbar.com (launching later this week)

So, instead of watching the game at a bar or boycotting the game altogether, you're planning to throw a Super Bowl party. The problem is, you're not very popular, and since the rent is due today you can't afford to pay people to show up like you usually would. That sucks, dude, but it's not too late to guarantee that everyone--from the hobo on the corner, to the goons you went to college with, and maybe even a girl--might show up.

First of all, you must provide lots and lots and lots of free beer. I can't stress this enough. The only thing that's gonna suck more than the Giants losing is the beatdown you'll get if you run out of beer. Secondly, skip the tired, mangled old wings and class it up with this recipe for barbecue pork ribs and chicken, courtesy of Sanjay Miller, Executive Chef at ESPN Zone in Times Square  ...

It may be frigid outside, but Malibu wants to warm you up at their Winter Beach Bash event, tonight at Terminal 5. Personally, I wouldn't be caught dead drinking Malibu anywhere that isn't poolside, preferably in the tropics--unless of course it's free, in which case there's nothing I wouldn't drink. And the complimentary Malibu cocktails are just one reason to hit up T5 tonight--the fact that Dim Mak founder Steve Aoki will be holding court in the DJ booth is another. And if all else fails, there's always the free hors d'oeuvres.

Don't forget to RSVP.

Above: Midtown Manhattan's own Stan Friedman took home the ESPN Zone Ultimate Couch Potato title after 29 grueling hours of sitting in a DreamSeat, watching sports. He beat out runner-up Nate Lopez of Queens, 3rd place winner Peter Beljakovic of Brooklyn, and in last place, Lindsay Wagenblast of North Jersey.

It turns out couch potatoes aren't actually that lazy after all. How else can I explain all the mail I've received this morning, correcting various points I made in yesterday's post about the ESPN Zone Ultimate Couch Potato competition?

First of all, it turns out that there were not four dudes competing, but rather three dudes and one chick. My sincere apologies to Lindsay Wagenblast, the sole female competitor. Although I understand she came in fourth place and quit after 15 hours, the fact that she thought she had a shot says a lot about the state of women's liberation. Or something like that.

I also brushed off the fact that there actually was criteria for determining who got to compete (beyond fitting the profile of a lazy, beer-guzzling couch potato). Specifically, the four contestants were chosen on the basis of a 200-word essay they submitted describing "their interest in the event and their passion for sports," in the words of the ESPN Zone rep who contacted me this morning. (No word on which Harvard scholar was charged with the task of grading the papers.)

And last, but certainly not least, I was clearly delusional when I thought it would be OK to use the term La-Z-Boy as a generic term for recliner. More than one reader has pointed out that in fact the recliners were DreamSeats, and not, as I moronically referred to them, La-Z-Boys. I don't know what I was thinking, and for the record, from now on I will think twice before referring to any old brand of tissues as Kleenex.

Although none of the four came remotely close to beating the Guinness Book record (which would have required 69 hours, 48 minutes of continuous sports-viewing without falling asleep), Stan Friedman was the last man standing (or rather, reclining) after 29 hours, thus making him the official winner of the ESPN Ultimate Couch Potato competition. And judging from the statement he made after the competition ended yesterday afternoon, he's a pretty cool dude.

I've always wanted to be the best at something and I figured this would be the easiest to be the best at.

And the best you are, Stan. The best indeed. 

Nothing says "Happy New Year!" quite like a few murders--four, to be exact--on the first day of the year, which is precisely what happened in New York City yesterday. Still, I can't help thinking it's unfortunate that that story led the news, instead of this one...

Those of you who are naive enough to bother with resolutions you're bound to break could stand to learn a thing or two from the four fat slobs who are competing in the ESPN Zone Ultimate Couch Potato competition. Since 11am yesterday morning, four dudes with a penchant for sitting in a La-Z-Boy and gorging themselves on fried food and beer while watching the game have been, umm, sitting in a La-Z-Boy, gorging themselves on fried food and beer while watching the game. (God only knows how they found such a qualified applicant pool.) In any event, the competitors must sit in recliners at the ESPN Zone restaurant in Times Square in front of a dozen 42" HD plasma TVs and several 14' HD projection screens for 69 hours, 48 minutes straight. They can order whatever they want in the way of food and drinks, but can't sleep or move from the recliners with the exception of bathroom breaks permitted every 8 hours. The winner will receive a prize package valued at $5,000, including a recliner and an HD TV, and they'll also be able to brag that they hold the Guinness World Record for watching televised sports.

We wish them all good luck, and to the three guys who are bound to go home empty-handed, take solace in knowing that it really doesn't matter, because in a competition as mind-blowingly moronic as this one, even if you won you'd still be a loser.

Photo borrowed from Eastwick.

In light of the popularity of the post-college boozing guide (and, by extension, today's earlier blog post) and in my continued efforts to keep readers marginally entertained, I thought I'd take the liberty of sharing another new roundup: Midtown Bars. It's no secret that the kind of people who frequent bars like Phebe's (again, see previous post) also invariably spend the better part of their lives in midtown*. But regardless of whether you count yourself among them, if there's any chance that you may even visit midtown, trust me when I tell you that you'll want to know where to drink.

*With two notable exceptions: those who work out of Citigroup's Tribeca headquarters and the Wall Street set.

(Photo courtesy of Guardian UK)