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Every neighborhood in New York has one of these places: the mysterious Chinese/Mexican restaurant. I don’t know what the connection is: hearsay informs that they were started by Mexicans working in Chinese restaurants, where the former picked up the latter’s culinary secrets and set off to open their own combo restaurants. Or it’s the other way around; I think I’ve only ever seen Asian people in the kitchens of these places. They all have the same lousy backlit photos of their featured dishes, bland decors, prominent what-to-do-if-someone-is-choking posters and conspicuous notices of regular inspection by the health department. I don’t even know the name of this place and I walk by every time I get off the A train at 190th Street and cross Broadway. What more do I need to know? It’s my local Chinese/Mexican restaurant.
You don’t want to eat-in unless you enjoy chipped formica booths, bad fluorescent lighting and a constant stream of delivery guys and neighborhood folks stopping in for carry-out. If Edward Hopper had painted Nighthawks today, he’d have set it in a Chinese/Mexican restaurant, not the least of why because there aren’t many/any genuine diners left in New York City. I tried a black bean burrito, which had a lightly toasted (fried?) flour tortilla, and, on the Chinese side, some tofu and steamed vegetables. Cheap, basic, hearty: the perfect delivery-food/carry-out.
Tags: 52 Meals Project (2007) | Comments have been closed.