Jackson Heights!

While Jackson Heights is not in Manhattan (It's a neighborhood in Queens.) and thus isn't part of my Walk the City project, I'd wanted to visit it for a long time. Friends had praised its delicious (and cheap) food, and I'd heard that it supposedly had the most languages spoken per zip code (odd way to count) in the country.

So, when I ran across this plan for a Jackson Heights $1 Food Walk, I couldn't resist. I called my friend Paige, and we jumped on the train uptown on the Fourth of July. What better way to be American than celebrating the immigration culture that has made her great?

When we exited the subway in a slower, shorter, and much grubbier New York than I had yet experienced, I laughed. In being excited to explore a neighborhood that houses immigrants from many different countries, I'd forgotten that the days of mass Scottish / Irish / Estonian immigration were over. Diverse as Jackson Heights was, I seemed to be the only blonde on the street, and a rather conspicuous blonde, at that. Fortunately, the street was full of families with young children and felt quite safe, so I didn't worry much.
Clutching our small bills, Paige and I entered Rainbow Bakery, the first stop on our tour. The prices were as low as we'd anticipated, with all sorts of sweet and savory Chinese buns for less than a dollar.




I ordered a ginger pork bun, and Paige played it safe with a plain donut. Praying against food poisoning, we started our food journey.

Mine was frighteningly lukewarm, but I reminded myself that I have an iron stomach and soldiered through. The ginger could counteract an upset stomach, right? Of course right.

Our next stop? Mira Cali II Panaderia Y Pasteleria for Colombian food. Paige and I felt very, very, very white. We had no idea what we were ordering, and we didn't speak Spanish. Everything seemed to have some sort of cheese, and that seemed safe. We ordered. We sat at the counter facing the street (The wall shook and rattled whenever anyone outside leaned their bikes against it. It seemed like a very temporary wall.) and ate our plantains stuffed with cheese. We decided that we didn't like Colombian food.

Now feeling rather ill, we decided it was mind over matter and moved on. Fortunately, we couldn't find the taco truck, and we couldn't bring ourselves to buy tamales from the tamale cart (This cart turned out to be just that--a shopping cart with a cooler in it.).

We did, however, eat at a little hole-in-the-wall taco place. Paige decided not to join me in ordering a beef taco, but it was her biggest mistake of the day. The big guy who took my order translated it to the cook and added in English, "Make it extra good." I don't know if he did anything different, but, boy was it good. By far the best food of the day, perhaps because of the cilantro?

Looping back to the train station, we passed these old art deco houses. I loved the crazy fences and the throwback feel of the tiny houses. Their 1950s white middle-class feel contrasted sharply with the neighborhood that has grown up around them.

Final stop? Maharaja Sweets and Snacks for an Indian dessert. We don't know what we got, only that it was very sweet. (At this point I kind of felt foolish because I had so little idea of what was eating everywhere.) Thoroughly stuffed and sickened, perhaps more by the idea of all the food than by the food itself, Paige and I headed back. The trip was successful--we experienced new cultures, tried new food, and didn't get mugged--but I hope to go back again when it's less hot and I am more educated on what I am eating.