Pete met GG at the old-school Westside Coffee Shop (WSC) on Church just below Canal--aka, the epicenter of bootleg goods in Manhattan; nothing but Caribbean guys and Chinese ladies selling knock-off purses and watches out of Hefty bags, and Indian men pitching perfumes and colognes--for some Hispanic eating. WSC's cubano is slightly non-traditional; it's got big chunks of pulled pork, thin slices of ham, and melted swiss cheese, but it lacks the pickles and garlic mayo, and the bread is more like a pressed hero roll than the traditional Cuban bread which it's usually served on--it's still delicious though, and their fries are cooked in pork oil, making them super flavorful. The black beans and yellow rice, especially once a heavy dose of hot sauce is added, are also muy bien. Washed down la comida con the thinking Puerto Rican's drink of choice, Malta India--the taste was a bit too overpowering for Pete, he grew up on Waldbaum's generic root beer after all, but it reminded GG of malzbier--and the highlight of the meal: the morir sonando (translation: to die dreaming). It's a heavenly mix of orange juice, milk, and cane sugar, and it's served chilled--it's probably the most popular thing in the DR outside of the merengue and baseball. Pete thinks it tastes like a melted orange creamsicle or a less sweet version of Stewart's Orange 'n Cream. Hit La Colombe for coffee afterwards and then floated on back to the space station. LaCock's Lunch-O-Meter: A solid six inches.
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