Still, he didn’t expect things to go as badly wrong as they did. Following the collapse of Lehman Brothers last September (and its subsequent acquisition by Barclays (BCS)), he reentered the market, buying high-yield corporate debt. The investment soured quickly. Then, as a result of Lehman’s default, the other half of Goldstein’s cash, held in a money-market fund offered through an online broker, was frozen and facing losses, reducing it to pennies on the dollar.

“All this prudence I had been living by, and I had seen my net worth evaporate 70%,” he said. There were many sleepless nights, but, after several months, his investments in corporate debt recovered handsomely -- he says he never considered capitulating -- and he was able to withdraw nearly of all his cash from the money-market fund.

He had reached the precipice, but returned to where he started. “When it resolved itself, it was a huge release of tension.”

His experience of his wealth had largely been confined to viewing numbers on a computer screen. He wanted something tangible, to treat himself to something. He also wanted revenge for having been excluded from living in the city for several years.

First came the upgrade to a 2-bedroom apartment in the building where he already lived.
“Some I-banker blew up and I moved in.”

Then he bought the restaurant, followed by the Maserati a few weeks before we met. The car had 2,000 miles on it, having been returned by a guy who could no longer afford it. Goldstein paid for it in cash.

“I have no sympathy for bankers,” he told me firmly. “They live by the sword and die by the sword.” His anger has a pseudo-populist undertone that many in New York have long felt: a resentment toward Wall Street and the super-rich that festered under the surface before exploding last year.

That being said, Goldstein acknowledges that his life isn't wholly divorced from Wall Street. His outsourcing company does work with financial services companies; he hopes employees of JPMorgan (JPM), located across the street from his sushi restaurant, will patronize the place; and, of course, he still has his investment portfolio.

What Goldstein hopes for is more sanity in New York -- and that applies to his own decisions, as well. He said he enjoys the feeling of buying nice things, but doesn’t feel as though he's just trying to keep up with his peers.

I asked him whether this carefree spending had become his new religion.

He answered, “It’s a binge. It’s not going to last. I’m going to revert back to myself, without question.”