Yeah, But Do They Have Cheesy Breadsticks?

One thing you notice living in Manhattan is the piles of takeout menus that end up on your doorstep. There are so many restaurants within a few blocks of my house I have never felt the need to order delivery takeout. (Maybe that will change in winter.) That's not true of the lady who lives at the bottom of the stairs on the second floor in my building. The delivery guy happened to be at her door for my dog's Friday evening and Saturday morning walks. Now that I think of it, maybe she's got something going with the delivery guy... but I digress. The main reason I haven't ordered food in is because the intercom in my apartment doesn't work, so I can't buzz the guy in when he gets to the building. I collect the menus anyway. We get menus for Chinese food, pizza, burgers, everything you can imagine. New York is an interesting food town. You actually can get any kind of food you want.

I thought I had seen a menu for every type of cuisine, but the other day I found one I never thought I'd see: Ariana's Afghan Restaurant. Most places I've lived I had a choice between Pizza Hut and Papa John's. Here I get to choose between Afghan or Bangladeshi.

And then the same day, when I thought I had seen everything in the menu department, I got the takeout menu from John's Shanghai Chinese restaurant (in the mail!) ... in Chinese.

Although I find all this interesting, the avalanche of menus is annoying litter to most people. Next time you're in New York, maybe you'll understand why this sign is posted everywhere.

Something's Not Quite Right

I had lunch today at Freshco Burrito Taco on Sullivan Street around the corner from my office. It's a super cheap open kitchen take out Mexican restuarant catering to students. The food is nothing to write home about (or blog about for that matter) but is no better or worse than corporate-owned Chipotle. I had the chicken soft taco, of course (not pictured here -- Paullyblog lacks a staff photographer).

As I sat there, I began to get the feeling something was just not quite right. First of all, all of the staff was Asian, including the guy working in the kitchen. I'd never been in a Mexican restaurant where I might speak more Spanish than anyone else in the place. Secondly, it was set up like every Chinese takeout place I'd ever been to in NY -- pictures of the food on the menu over the counter and all. Then I started to think, well, maybe they're Phillipino or something -- hispano/Asian fusion? Then my eyes fell on something I had overlooked before -- a giant Buddah sitting on the countertop. I have a serious suspicion that this place was serving Moi Goo Gai Pan and General Tso's chicken not long ago, before the market demanded cheap tacos.

Years ago during law school, the local Mexican restaurant shut down. A few weeks later I saw the cook from the Mexican place working happily in front of a wok in the Chinese open kitchen at the strip mall next to Food Lion. I was amused at the time to see a Hispanic guy working in a Chinese restaurant. After today's experience, I guess what goes around comes around. God bless our melting pot.