Regardless of a man's exotic origins, New York has a way of subsuming his identity -- which is why you see Chinese guys enjoying bagels, and Portland transplants taking HGH because Pettitte did it. For a restaurant that's all about NY, try Olana, taking reservations now.
Named after a Persian fortress and cheffed by a French-trained Italian, Olana nonetheless serves up "modern American", i.e., gourmet grub for people who care more about landing a minivan taxi than their own Persian/French/Italian ancestry. Menu's contemporary classics (grilled Berkshire pork loin w/ rose-apple puree; burnt orange and goose ravioli) supplemented with ingredients from a plot of Olana-owned upstate farmland (a prior arrangement with Greenstreets park-land yielded only regional/seasonal OE 800). You'll take this all down in a commodious setting decked in Hudson Valley murals, seasonally-relevant back-lit frescoes, and a chandelier'd circular bar surrounded with high-backed, lipstick-red chairs (Knights of the "Spicy Pucker" Table?).
Olana also offers a private dining room in back that sports a working fireplace and a flat panel TV stashed behind a painting -- because no matter how exotic your origins, dinner shouldn't mean missing American Gladiators.