Oh come all ye Munch-faithful. Munch knows the loyal read this column every week -- even on Christmas Eve, when so many are busy with family and wrapping and seven fishes.

		River Moon Cafe is at 108 43rd St., Lawrenceville, 412-683-4004. Hours: Mon.-Fri 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m.; Tues.-Sat. 5 to 9:30 p.m. Closed Sundays.

So, my lovely loyal readers, here is your reward: You get to be in the know about a great new place, way before the people who are too tangled up in the tinsel to read their papers today.

"Yeah, great, Munch," you may sneer sardonically, "isn't that what you provide every week?"

Wrong, Grinches.

Great new places are hard to find. It's rare that Munch eats out and really whoops it up.

This week is an exception, for which Munch must thank Sherri, last-nameless Munch-reader and electronic Magus, who tipped Munch off to River Moon Cafe. The marvy dining experience at RMC was Munch's first gift of the season.

But wait -- one more miracle to behold: In seeking dining companionship this week, Munch was able to make a boy's fondest wish come true. Long had he longed to be FOM. Stalwart was his campaign. Far had he journeyed. And he was.

You see, kiddies, wishes really do come true.

Munch and FOM went to lunch.

River Moon Cafe is several blocks back from Butler Street, toward the river, in Lawrenceville. There are cracked sidewalks, men working on water lines, a burnt-out shell of a house and beautifully restored brick facades licked by climbing vines. Keep walking. It's there.

The entrance is on the side. Once inside the building, you're enveloped by a world of good smells and bright colors. The walls are yellow and blue, paneled with colorful high-speed photographs of unidentifiable places. The tables are clothed in white; the chairs all match, a shiny, dark wood.

The menu is, as Munch likes to call it, eclectic American: club sandwiches, Cobb salads, chicken salad -- enlivened with a pinch of curry here, a dash of miso there, tempura-battered, panini-flattened food. It is the familiar, transformed.

We ordered tea. Nowhere on the menu is it mentioned that RMC's tea is very special -- though it should be. The cafe's owner, Josephine, came to our table with a big, blue, oval box. Tableside, she offered a tiny lesson on tea. We sniffed. We murmured. We nodded. FOM, feeling dutiful, made many clever remarks and asked many fine questions, and we discovered that Josephine blends her own tea.

She does a fine job. They are delicious.

Munch's choice, something with Tibetan in the name and lovely almond vanilla tones, was gentle and perfectly unsweet, but smooth. FOM's choice, pumpkin chai, had a comforting, full flavor.

The tea is served in tiny pots, as it should be, with tiny cups, not mugs. The little vessels can be cupped in the hand, warm and round, and the edge curves just a little, to hug the lip like a kiss.

Munch's generous cup of homemade seafood chowder, was just spicy enough, creamy though pinkened by tomato, sharpened with a hint of cayenne. FOM's blue crab corn fritters -- an excellent choice -- were crisp without and fluffy within. They steamed when bitten. Dunked in the piquant herbed tartar sauce they were served with, they were cooler to the tongue.

We both had sandwiches. Munch's curried chicken salad was creamy and fresh, served on thick slices of seedy-grainy seven grain bread. FOM's sandwich, on the same bread, was piled with good components to make an excellent whole: turkey, havarti, avocado, dijon mustard. The fries that came with it were crisp and square, and ketchup came out in a tiny ramekin -- nice touch.

We stopped there, though desserts are billed as "awesome." Munch had made a breakfast of Christmas cookies; FOM, happy to be there, had eaten his entire sandwich, plus a quarter of Munch's.

River Moon Cafe is also open for dinner. Early in the new year, Munch will be there -- and can hardly wait.

Munch's anticipation is like that of children, deep in the covers, looking toward the window, waiting for morning, thinking they hear reindeer hooves tap-tapping on the roof.