Side Street Delight
Resurfacing from the depths of the 7 train into the heart of Flushing’s Chinatown, one could be forgiven for believing they were somehow transported to Hong Kong. Flashing signs and lights assault the potential customers below with anime dolls and cute oversized lettering, and none of it is in English. The majority of pedestrians will be Asian, and a larger than life bowl of ramen is balanced precariously upon a restaurant’s rooftop. It isn’t the easiest to get to, but it has become one of New York’s most fascinating neighborhoods. Because Flushing is directly adjacent to (but not in) the city, it has developed a unique ability to become a densely populated and thriving neighborhood without turning into a tourist trap. It has become the second most heavily populated Chinatown, and because of that there is a clear need to serve a large variety of customers. Walking down Main Street, if one continues on towards a side street right past the old subway tracks overhead, there will be a large window in a brick wall, behind which several Asian men and women will be bustling to serve up delicious and bizarre treats at ridiculous prices. This place is literally a hole in the wall- the store is nameless and comes out of the back of a convenience store, and there is not a single word written in English. The menu has minimal variety and is sloppily written on a large poster board nailed to the wall beside the window. Hygiene is clearly not a number one priority and “healthy food” is a phrase that is lost on this particular station, even if you were able to say it in Chinese. Regardless, it would be difficult for someone to get food there without having to wait in line. Not that eating healthy has ever been much of a stipulation for most Americans, but that isn’t why this nameless shop of delights has gained modest success. Walking up to the window and having to point and gesture at what I wanted, a friendly man grabbed some dough, glazed it over, coated the glaze with honey (yes, two layers of glaze), added some nuts and wrapped all of that pretzel-style around a hot dog. He then repeated the procedure with a new hot dog and enveloped both of them in a plastic sheet, all for $1. The treat was a cacophony of ingredients, as were many of the items I spotted being made, but that didn’t keep it from being delicious. Perhaps it was not the most balanced meal I had all day, but at one measly dollar, how do you resist temptation? That is the reason this food shack has been able to run the way it has, and why it is such a strong representation of what Flushing’s Chinatown is about. Heading back to Main Street, one doesn’t need to walk very far before they find a variation on Pier One Imports, where one can’t buy chopsticks (I kid you not) without spending upwards of a hundred dollars. This is the diversity of Flushing at work. Here, a store that sells hundred dollar chopsticks and 1500 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets can thrive alongside a hole-in-the-wall eatery that sells dumpster sludge, albeit mouth-watering dumpster sludge, for no more than 3 dollars. Further down there is an open market with fruit going for a quarter, and beside that is a Chase bank. Nowhere else can you find such disharmony working together so fluidly. Maybe this is just my personal opinion, but in a time when shrewd advertising rather than quality of product is what cultivates success, it is a quiet relief to know that around the corner there is a small food stand doing what it does best with minimal fuss at minimum prices… even if it is dumpster sludge.
Alex Linde
