I just realized I haven't posted in June! My god. I've got a delicious backlog of tales to share.
Weeks ago, a gorgeous spring sun called us to Red Hook for our sixth Food Adventure. The Red Hook ball fields: all the amateur futbol and food stalls of Latin America, steps away from Ikea. It was my first trip to what is a perennial favorite of many New Yorkers and I was en rapt. Mexican, Dominican, Salvadoran (any others?) vendors line the ballfields and in turn a second line of hungry weekenders borders the turf.
First truck provided the best horchata I've ever had. Every sip resulting in an icey coating all the way to my stomach. And the cinammon - que rico. The jugo y liquado truck also made amaaaazing elotes. No skimping on the toppings, it's like a creamy corn popsicle.
Elote con mayonaisa, chile y queso:
With horchata in hand, I was suddenly confronted by Tim. He led me to the greatest of the food trucks, the north-west huarache mobile.
I've spent nearly a decade in southern California, home to the world's greatest Mexican food. This is indisputable by the way. In all my days and drunken evenings eating this cuisine, I had never encountered the huarache. But, my friends, they are real and they're spectacular. The huarache hails from Mexico City (I wiki'd it as soon as I got home). It is basically an open-faced burrito, but instead of a flour tortilla it is laid on a sandal (huarache)-shaped masa-based wrap.
I had the chorizo and would never think of ordering anything else. Dig it:
The huarache was a grease bomb and I've been craving another for weeks. Julia waited in the longest of lines for some pupusas. Here's the ladies droping that masa:
Look at this gorgeous pickled cabbage.
I've got to say, the pupusas were good, but not of the caliber found on earlier adventures (see El Comal, et al.).
The futbol was Jamaicans v. Spanish speakers. Another group brought a travel hooka to their picnic bench, a novel idea to be mimiced. After loading up, we ventured to Melody Lanes for Peter (I called him Paul) 's cocktails and gutter balls. Amazingly, we got more Mexican for dinner after bowling.
Info: May to October, Sat and Sun, Red Hook.
We skipped the heo, bo, ga and ech seen above and headed straight for the pho tai - the basic beef pho, the baramoter. We were also pleased to find the Singaporean beer Tiger - a favorite (and strong too).
So, is it the best pho in NY? I can't say, but I hope there is better. Would I go back there? Absolutely - in a second. But until then, I'm ready for another spot. I've got to try as many as possible to find that flavor that will keep me from dreaming of that southern pho I fell in love with. Got recommendations?
