Brooklyn Flea Circus Scene

Pete ate curbside on the corner of Front and Washington Street in DUMBO--how about some tables, yo? Pete got chicken pupusas from one of the Red Hook ballfield vendors that relocate to the Brooklyn Flea in the winter. Super tasty and filling and worth the trip; however, not to get all hipsterocrite but the scene is a bit too much of a scene for Pete. When the guidebook-led Europeans join forces with the skinny jean Billsy-burg crowd, it gets a little silly--but whatever. Pete and friends headed to Montero's at the very end of Atlantic Avenue for some refreshments afterwards; a woman was making chocolate easter bunny lollipops in the kitchen--Montero's often serves up spaghetti and meatballs free to all customers--and Playboy Playmates ones, too! Her nipples are cherries.

Friday the 13th: Pig's Blood

Pete ate yesterday's unordered lunch today. Pete was joined by some stranded English school boys--Ralph, Piggy, Jack, Simon, etc.--for some Pig's Blood Rice Noodle soup. Lame, obtuse references aside, pig's blood is rectangular-shaped, gelatinous, congealed pig's blood (oddly enough). It's fucking nasty--and bland, too. Tastes like liverwurst without the taste of liverwurst if that makes any fucking sense at all. Pete has nothing else to say about it. Pete wiped the taste out of his mouth with some PBRs at the Spring Lounge. Pete is about to encounter a serious case of the Latin term drinkus interruptus--which loosely translated means "the slow comedown from three beers followed by three hours of no beers."

Jump Around

Go south on Bowery and take a left at the statue of Confucius in Chatham Square--where seven streets meet, seriously, fucking count them if you don't believe Pete--and you'll be at Food Sing Corp 88 or Foo Shing Hand Fresh Noodle Soup Shop.  Get yourself some hand-pulled noodles here. A word of advice though: if you want the beef stew and beef han hand-pulled noodle broths (a big bowl for $4.50), do NOT keep pointing to the Pig's Blood--yep, it's like a bouillon cube of the blood of the pig (but more on that later)--Rice Noodles because they don't speak gringo and "Is this good?" might as well mean "I would like one of those, too." Ate the beef, got the blood to go; then picked up some mini egg waffle cakes (15 for $1) from a cart on Bowery and an almond drink (10 ounces for $1.25) from Yuen Yuen Restaurant on Bayard. I don't really understand Chinatown economics--for instance, how the fuck does this place sell fresh-squeezed OJ for $2? And apropos of nothing, do Kriss Kross wear their Snuggies like robes?

Sandwiches & Records

Sau Voi Corp Sandwiches & Records on the corner of Lafayette and Walker at the edge of Chinatown is not for everyone--especially those with a fear of restaurants that improperly use pesticides, aren't vermin-proof, and have flying insects--but if you are looking for a 18 different varieties of bahn mi (butter bahn mi?), meatballs on a stick, a rainbow ice, Gelly fish salad, stickly rice w. black eye bean, Ovaltine, scratch-off tickets, used CDs, Asian porn DVDs, "Korean Karaoke, Vol. 7" on vinyl, etc., then you have come to the right spot. Pete and Mackey picked up two Bahn Mi Nem Nuong--big slices of tender BBQ pork--and took them to the Spring Lounge in SoHo to eat them with a couple of PBR drafts. Pete suggests you check out how bahn mi 4 and bahn mi 15 have been renumbered in pen on the menu. When Pete ordered two number fours, lunch lady said, "Number 15? Four is 15, 15 is 4 now." Pete will buy a four or fifteen--and one used CD (they currently have Prince's "1999" in stock--lunch for the first person with a sane explanation for this.

It's Tuesday, which means the special at M&O Market is fresh turkey, so that's where Pete and Spaceman went to pick up sandwiches. There must of been something in the blogosphere air today because the scanwich guys had lunch at M&O too. Spaceman gives a partial thumbs up to M&O's latest creation, BLT sauce. I don't know why it's called BLT sauce since it doesn't have the B, the L, or the T, but Spaceman said it added a refreshing wetness to his sandwich, though it was a little too herby.

Tasty D--Not--Lite

Pete needed some comfort food since he was feeling a bit of the rainy-Monday melancholia so he slouched off to the area that Jacob Riis once called "a vast human pig-sty," which is sort of appropriate because Pete really enjoys the pork at Tasty Dumpling on Mulberry Street. For less than five bucks you can get ridiculously full on 10 pork dumplings, a sesame pancake, and a wonton soup. And once the weather warms up, you can dine al fresco in Columbus Park while enjoying the sounds of parakeets chirping from cages in trees, mahjong tiles being smacked on picnic tables by old ladies, and, if you are lucky, listen to the world's most in-shape homeless man sing into his blowout comb.

It's Alright Ma, I'm Only Spitting

Pete met up with Smiler and family at their homebase in the recently nicknamed (by Smiler) DoFu (sounds like "tofu") section of Queens--aka, downtown Flushing--for some Chinese cuisine. We started out at Xi'an in the Golden Shopping Mall at 41-28 Main Street--it's down in the basement beneath a cellphone store--where we picked up some deliciously greasy lamb burgers (big chunks of lamb with cumin, hot peppers, and jalapenos), translucent potato noodles with chili peppers, and thick wheat noodles served with moist pieces of lamb and a super spicy sauce; then we headed off to the Flushing Mall food court--stopping to pick up some lamb skewers from a street-meat vendor on the way. We ordered some more food--pork dumplings, pork wonton soup, boiled eggs soaked in soy sauce, and taro and papaya milkshakes--and then began to feast. Everything was fantastic (well, the eggs were a little nasty)--Pete suggests reading this if you want to actually get learned about the food to be had out there. The highlight of the afternoon took place while we were eating. One of the more curious things about the Flushing Mall are the signs in the men's bathroom. One above the sinks says "Please do not vomit in the sink" and then there is one above the garbage can next to the sinks that says "Vomit here." Smiler reckons that "vomit" is a bad translation of "spit" and Pete most likely concurs but... as we were eating a little boy standing ten feet behind us missed both the sink and the vomit can so...