Sampling the LES

The Lower East Side (LES) brims with culinary culture, old and new. Though it's gentrified around the edges, the core still harbors old-world heritage, reflecting the various ethnic groups that migrated here during the last couple of centuries to cultivate a new life. Traditional food of the Jewish and Chinese populations, for example, continue to loom large, despite the glossy modern bars and restaurants barging in to take up space and woo the gastronomes of Gotham City. Another side of the LES is fairly prominent - specialized shops and eateries that proudly boast their artisanal quality and know how. They're the type of culinary therapy geared toward food aficionados who squirm with delight over crinkly vintage wrapping or a $20 pound of ooh la-la cheese. Matt and I embarked on a culinary tour of the LES led by the Sidewalks of New York, taking in bites of the two faces of this gritty neighborhood while learning historical tidbits. It's a comprehensive excursion requiring walking shoes and an outpouring of energy. Seasoned New Yorkers and wide-eyed newbies will love learning from this educational tour, but gluttons must take note...the samples equal...well, the size of samples. Don't expect heavy hors d'oeuvres that can rival the size of a normal lunch (and I do realize my concept of "normal" is grossly abnormal for others). For a robust meal, you'll have to venture out on your own for top-to-bottom chomps of Prosperity Dumpling or Goodfella's Pizza. Here's where we visited and what we nibbled on:

Yonah Schimmel Knishery
"Those flat, Hot-Pocket style of knishes you get are not the real thing," our tour guide sternly barked. An LES favorite since 1910, the Yonah Schimmel Knishery on Houston Street dusted off their shelves to serve us wedges cut from plump, dome-shaped knishes, house made on the premises, of course. The authentic filling of mashed potato and a velvety, flour shell made up for the proprietor's lack of warmth. (My flashy smile was met with a growl from the curmudgeon standing stiffly behind the counter.) Add a dollop of spicy brown musard to your knish for a pungent kick. The place is dank and somber-looking but photos from yesteryear and a book of scrawled musings from customers give the joint some character.

Katz's Deli
We mozied East along Houston Street and dropped in on Katz's, home of velvety pastrami and site of a certain infamous scene from Where Harry Met Sally. Since its inception in the late 1800s, Katz's has been a worldwide favorite, even still rallying for parents to "send a salami to your boy in the Army," as they did during World War II. Busboys today still buzz away across the floor, collecting the empty trays of famished tourists who swallow their stacks of deli sandwiches and gulp down their bowls of Matzo ball soup. Our gang of 20 parked ourveles in a private section carved in the back of the cafeteria-style space. Since I've locked lips with Katz's pastrami already, I let first timer Matt fork into most of the pink slices of meat. The slices of vinegar-soaked beef trimmed with pepper and jiggling with unctuous fat evaporated in my mouth just like the first time.

Goodfella's
On the outside, Goodfella's looks like a generic Italian spot peddling mediocre Italian food of the spaghetti and meatball variety. In truth, the newcomer is the LES edition of this popular NYC pizza chain, lauded for its thin crust pizza, piping hot from the blazing confines of a brick oven. We munched away on a slice of cheese pizza, casual street style right in the midst of Orchard Street, careful not to let the olive oil trickle down to our shirts. The crust was crispy but still flopped about, drenched with a zesty tomato sauce and covered with a tarp of gooey mozzarella cheese.

Economy Candy
Sugar break! The sweet spot named Economy Candy is a toothsome wonderland sure to put Willy Wonka to shame and make your family dentist blush. This kingdom of sugar has been selling a balanced inventory of nostalgic goods and modern treats since the 1930s, even weaving in Middle Eastern pistachios and dried fruit by the pound. Check out the brief sweep above of Economy Candy's colorful bins and barrels.

Essex Street Market
The neighborhood indoor market whittles away space for vendors to hawk their fruits, vegetables, breads and gourmet goods. We swiped by Saxelby to window shop upon unusual cheese made locally and beyond, and peeked quickly into the rough-and-tumble world of Shopsin's, home to a multi-storied menu and a cantankerous chef. On a good day, step outside to witness brawny NYPD lapping haphazardly around in their cars cradling delicate banh mi sandwiches in their hands. 

Prosperity Dumpling House
Dumpling houses in Chinatown are just as plentiful as trinket shops selling mandarin-collar blouses and wind-up dragons. I've been to many a dumpling abode (Vanessa's on Eldridge Street and a no name dollar joint in an alley off of Mott Street, for instance), but Properity was a first. Like other dumpling dens, Prosperity is a tiny slot, providing only a couple of standing-room-only counters for dining-in customers. Our massive crew took matters outside to enjoy these parcels of savory goodies in excess elbow room. Perhaps I've eaten too many dumplings in my life that I couldn't quite distinguish the taste of this one from ones found at other competitors, but nevertheless, I loved the crisp half moon skin hugging the succulent interior of ground pork and chives.

History Lesson
This slender structure once housed the offices for the Forward, a Jewish-American newspaper that began publication in New York in 1897. The Yiddish-language daily was loosely affiliated with the Socialist Party of America, thereby achieving a widespread circulation and political gain during the first three decades of the 20th century.Today, the Forward exists as a weekly publication printed in Yiddish and English.

 

The Pickle Guys
The briny aroma wafting along Essex Street comes from the handiwork of the Pickle Guys. Head pickler Alan Kaufman scoffs at the jarred pickles of today to opt for the traditional method of long ago: bulbous barrels brine pickles, turnips, watermelon and peppers in garlic and spices with not an inkling of preservatives. The cramped space is permeated with tart and savory scents. Visible barrels with their floating contents give the place an old-fashioned look. A classic pickle of behemoth girth yields a snappy crunch and tastes subtle in its briny coverage.

Doughnut Plant
We capped off our afternoon with a sugar rush at Doughnut Plant, where owner Mark Israel handcrafts his collection of eggless doughnuts based on his grandfather's heirloom recipe. Flavors come in an array of offbeat flavors including green tea, ginger, coconut and pumpkin.  On hand for sampling was milky tres leches and chocolate blackout - essentially death by chocolate capsulized in a doughnut. Unlike most doughnuts, the ones at this bespoke factory melt in your mouth thanks to their cushiony texture. Others tend to hold a stiffer bite and dry feel.