I absolutely love my new digs. (And as a small white girl who has lived in Union Square for the past 3 years, I most certainly have not acquired the street cred to use the term “digs”.) Sure, the old neck of the urban woods was uber-convenient — mass transit, Trader Joe’s, and Trader Joe’s Wines within a 2 cm radius of my dorm — but the combination of perpetual crowds and enormous, nationally-recognized stores have branded the Square as impersonal and commercial.

The Lower East Side, on the other hand, is a much friendlier neighborhood. Mothers, not hired mammies and live-in nannies, walk their children to school, and shop owners greet me as I trudge past their windows, groceries spilling from my scrawny arms. The warmth of the air on this side of Houston St. could melt the frigid 14th st. Con Ed building (as well as the watery fro-yo at the Tasti D-Lite around the corner.) I’m here to stay. That is, until I graduate this spring and my housing payment is no longer an obligation to my parents.

As a foodie, I’ve been weighed down by a hefty burden which implores me to sample every new restaurant I see, blog about it, and stake out my favorite neighborhood outposts. Unfortunately, organizing my apartment is an obstacle which has hindered my eating and writing productivity. Slowly but surely, I’m getting my groove back (just like Stella.)

Desperate for food after a grueling bus ride from Boston this past Sunday, I stumbled upon Tiny’s Giant Sandwich Shop on Rivington St. I’d previously read about their three-cheese grilled cheese sandwich and have since been licking my chops in anticipation. The all-black walls and couches with frayed cushions pay no homage to the delicious sandwich I am about to recall. The two waitresses could have been poster children for the LES — hipsterettes with blunt bangs, lopsided headbands, and consignment shop frocks.

The grilled cheese, however, was phe-no-me-nal. I ordered the sandwich to-go and peeled away layer-after-layer of grease-drenched paper to finally reveal my fatty culprit. Cheddar, provolone, and mozzarella bubbled between two pressed slices of 7-grain bread. The cheddar added saltiness, the provolone packed sharpness, and the mozzarella brought a chewy, silly putty-like consistency to the mix. Fresh juices from the perfectly-ripened tomato slices oozed from the sides of the sandwich (and made me feel like I was ingesting some nutritional value.) And for only $4.60? New York Magazine Cheap Eats: I urge you to come hither.

For tonight’s rushed dinner quest, I confined myself to a comfort food parameter. I wanted something hot, noodley, stewy, or soupy. I walked in the direction of Whole Foods on Houston and Bowery, and if all else failed, I would be in hormone-free Shangri-la. I decided to try Open the Sesame, a Thai restaurant I had been eyeing these past few days. Like its title, this Orchard St. hole-in-the-wall somewhat missed the mark. I’m always skeptical toward restaurants that desperately whore out their business. “Wi-Fi”, “Happy Hour ALL DAY”, and “FREE Sangria” were written emphatically across an outside chalkboard. Equally ominous was the lack of customers. The largest party there consisted entirely of the workers who were eating together at a back table. Open the Sesame attempted to purport a trendy vibe with a pink chandelier and thumping techno music, yet the seemingly dull crowd did not quite compliment this delusion.

The food was more appealing than the atmosphere, although better Thai could be found for the price. I ordered the Pad See Hew ($10 and change). The noodles were doughy yet resilient, the broccoli crunchy, and the chicken plump and generous. I cared less for the sauce, whose grainy film of cinnamon sweetened and overpowered the entree. The color and consistency reminded me of the liquid that flavors my mother’s tsimmes, a Jewish dish of sweet carrots stewed in cinnamon, brown sugar, and orange juice. The spice factor (which I liked) packed an unexpected punch and sent me in search of a glass of water. For two to three bucks cheaper, this dish would definitely be more of a steal.

So far, that is all I have to show for my new neighborhood. Stay tuned for more postings as I tackle the LES at full force, armed with the latest edition of New York Magazine’s Cheap Eats (aka the Bible Fat Testament) and my awesome photography skillz.

Tiny’s Giant Sandwich Shop
129 Rivington St.
New York, NY 10002
212.982.1690

Price Rating: $

Open the Sesame
198A Orchard St.
New York, NY 10002
212.777.7009

Price Rating: $-$$

In this week’s $25 and under section of the New York Times, Julia Moskin designates the “thrill of the chase” as the basis of New York’s dessert truck craze. For me, it’s the childhood memories that are revived by these mobile food vendors. My brothers and I would run barefoot through our neighborhood in pursuit of a refreshing Screwball or a sugary pack of bubblegum from the Good Humor ice cream truck.

New York’s dessert trucks are more sophisticated than the vehicles that circle suburban neighborhoods each summer. While the whereabouts of the Good Humor trucks were always revealed by the upbeat “Entertainer” song, New York’s dessert trucks post weekly schedules on their websites. In addition, a morbidly obese man in gigantic denim overalls would serve treats to a line of children who desperately coveted his job (I know I did). In the Treats Truck and the Dessert Truck, the overweight man with ice cream perpetually stuck to his lips is replaced by young, enthusiastic workers.

I visited the Treats Truck on my lunch hour this past week. The silver car is like a mini-bakery on wheels. This particular truck serves freshly baked goods, like cookies and brownies which cost between $.050 and $3.00. I picked a chocolate chip cookie ($1.00) and a pecan butterscotch bar ($2.75) and was taken aback when the woman asked me if I preferred a bar from the middle or corner of the pan. After all, I had grown quite accustomed to the ice cream man’s menacing grunt.

The cookie was crisp around the edges and doughy in the middle, its chocolate chips melted by the summer heat. The sweet treat was a nice midday pick-me-up and a vast improvement from the bland cookies sold by nearby delis and cafes.

I was more impressed by the pecan butterscotch bar. Its slightly undercooked center was thick and gooey. As I broke the bar in two, sticky strings of dough struggled to hold the pieces together. The golden-hued bar tasted buttery rather than saccharine. It could only be perfected with more pecans (there were only a few garnishing the top).

The Treats Truck also rewards its customers with a punch card which promises a free dessert on the tenth visit. I quickly slipped the card into my purse, saving it as a justification for returning nine more times.

Treats Truck
Treats Truck website for schedule
212.691.5226

Price Rating: $