Chinantla Deli is a real gem. As one of the first places I went when working in this neighborhood, it was the deli-front that drew me in. Takis, among other strange Mexican snacks, are a guilty pleasure. But there was no way I could ignore the food smells coming from the back of the place, nor the fact that I was one of very few non-Mexicans in the place.

So I came back for the next two weeks, eating through a slew of papalo-laced cemitas, taco trios, and hella-spicy-tangy-crunchy Takis. And I was DEEPLY impressed. Everything I ate popped, sang, and crackled all the way down.

As a deli, the selection of Mexican goods is very impressive, even beyond the snacks. They’ve got multiple mole options, weirdo hot sauces and powders, and plenty of beans and mayonnaise and pickled chiles – la Morena and La Costena offerings galore.

They even have some decent grocery options. There’s cecina and fresh beef options in the deli case, as well as some white, firm cheeses. On the side, below a number of Mexican drinks, are vegetable staples: spring onions, nopales, cilantro, watercress, jalapenos, and poblanos as a sampling.

AND they have an absolute treat that I have yet to see anywhere else in New York – EL MILAGRO! Based out of Chicago, these rough corn tortillas are the tastiest, freshest, reheatin’est I’ve ever had from a package; and worth every penny.

All in all it’s one of my favorite delis. Bangin’ food, hella snacks, helpful staff. Even in these times it make sense they’re busy.

• Bodega Cat: No
• Dustiest Item: Dona Maria Mole
• Best Deal: Cemita, $9.00, two meals – TWO MEALS!
• Most Expired Beer:
• Chateau Diana: No
• Imports Ratio: 1:2::American:Foreign (Mexican)
• ATM Fee: N/A, Screen Malfunction
• Juul Pods/Price: No
• 24 Hour: No
• Bag Waste Reduction Law: Non-compliant
• Medicine Cabinet: XL-3 Cold Medicine, La Rapidita the Hangover Helper, Rancho Escondido Tequila Anejo
• Credit Minimum: $10
• Music Overheard: None
• Building Owner: Guadalupe Ramos
• Last Transaction: March 9, 2005 for $390,000

Broadway Mini Market Deli is a go-to for 8AM deli breakfast. It bumps and shimmies and moves a foyer’s worth of people quickly out the door.

The rest of the shop is only two aisles deep and clearly isn’t interested in you going too far back – unopened boxes stand in front of unstocked shelves of dry goods. This heavily reinforces the vibe that the hot-food line is the showcase.

This feeling is solidified by the eclectic mix of items. They seem to have started with deli basics: milk, eggs, adobo seasoning, tomato paste, Loacker wafers. But somewhere along the restock line someone felt that certain niches were under-served: cans of nice tomatoes, Great Northern Beans, Kratom, small-batch hot sauces.

Not to mention they had more flavors of Zapp’s potato chips than I’ve ever seen, including Spicy Crawdad, Evil Eye, and my favorite Voodoo. But like the seven different flavors of Four Loko, many of these products simply didn’t exist. They seemed instead to exist to fill the shelves, to give the rest of the store an eye-glossing legitimacy.

It would seem to work. It very much would have worked if I were only visiting the shop for a sausage-egg-and-cheese on a roll. Worth the $3.50, it was the prototypical breakfast; soft roll, gooey cheese, tasty pork disc.

• Bodega Cat: No
• Dustiest Item: Pomodoro Tomatoes, Whole Peeled
• Best Deal: Four Loko Sour Razz, $3.50
• Most Expired Beer: Brooklyn Pilsner, Born 09/19
• Chateau Diana: No
• Imports Ratio: 10:1::American:Foreign
• ATM Fee: $1.95
• Juul Pods/Price: $20
• 24 Hour: Yes
• Bag Waste Reduction Law: Non-compliant
• Medicine Cabinet: Broncochem Expectorant Syrup, Rompe Pecho DM Cough, Wintergreen-Flavored Isopropyl Alcohol, Kratom
• Credit Minimum: $10
• Music Overheard: N/A
• Building Owner: NSSN LLC
• Last Transaction: Nov. 20th, 2009 for $1.1 million

Cabin Delicatessen doesn’t have a GoogleMaps entry or any shelves over three feet tall. However it DOES have Goobers, active dry yeast, and those beautiful butter cookies that come in the blue tins.

Which is to say the variety of goods at the Cabin is wide. And without clear theme. The majority of the selection sits firmly in the American, snack/microwave meal category with a couple weird standouts.

The entrance smells as though smoking within the singular triangular room is discouraged, while smoking just outside the door is heavily encouraged. The floor tiles are clean and still nice. The tops of many products are not.

The egg sandwich is good, even if I was charged three dollars; not the two marked on the sandwich board. They’ll do most anything to those well-seasoned yolks, so long as what you have in mind involves a form of pork and american cheese.

But the place got business. Plenty of people within and passing through – and yet I couldn’t figure out what exactly they were doing. Socializing? Getting the corner news? It’s entirely possible I have stumbled into one node among many in a spy network many delis long.

Yeah that must be it.

• Bodega Cat: No
• Dustiest Item: Krasdale Honey, 6oz
• Best Deal: Egg and Cheese Sando, $3.00
• Most Expired Beer: N/A
• Chateau Diana: No
• Imports Ratio: 10:1::American:Foreign
• ATM Fee: $1.75
• Juul Pods/Price: N/A
• 24 Hour: Posted, Unconfirmed
• Bag Waste Reduction Law: Non-Compliant
• Credit Minimum: None
• Medicine Cabinet: Theraflu, Advil, Massengill Tropical Breeze Douche
• Music Overheard: N/A
• Building Owner: 895 BROADWAY OWNER LLC (http://lookup.heatseek.org/taxlot/1008480015)
• Last Transaction: July 2015

Broadway Bagel and More is a recent addition to the neighborhood, opening October of last year. It’s still very clean and has yet to acquire a flavor of any kind from the neighborhood.

I spoke with AJ, the tired but pleasant manager at the Bagel shop. In his words, business is alright but it could be better – the neighborhood is still getting used to them being there. “They all say they never even knew we were here!”, he says, gesturing down Park toward the hospital and ensuing rows of housing buildings.

I arrived at an inconsiderate 5:55PM (they close at 6PM) and they had all but closed. Luckily, AJ was alright with making a bagel, telling me that soon they’re looking to be open until 9PM. While unclear on what business they’d attract, my understand was that they’d start to gain traction if they were open longer.

Still, it can be a bit expensive for the neighborhood. They’re selling the usual bougie-drink selection (MASH soda, three kinds of kombucha, Naked juices), the cooler taking up the entire back wall of the ordering area. They offer a six-dollar fresh juice special, various upscale treats, and three special breakfast platters.

The sandwiches, hot and cold of considerable variety, run from three-dollars for eggs on a biscuit to ten for the larger heroes. Better for certain, but I haven’t see all the sizes of sandwich. A failure on my part for sure, but I’m too much of a sucker for an everything bagel with cream cheese.

Which was alright. It came with more cream cheese than a bagel should – just fine by me. They’re a little flat compared to others in the area, but I’d wager they have more life in them closer to opening.

• Bodega Cat: No
• Dustiest Item: N/A – too young
• Best Deal: $5.00 hash browns, eggs, and toast
• Most Expired Beer: N/A
• Chateau Diana: No
• Imports Ratio: N/A – All American
• ATM Fee: $1.75
• Juul Pods/Price: N/A
• 24 Hour: No
• Bag Waste Reduction Law: Non-Compliant
• Credit Minimum: None
• Music Overheard: Yom El Wedaa – Georges Wassouf
• Managers Met: AJ
• Building Owner:839 LG LLC (from Pluto)
• Last Transaction: July 2019

Mr. Kiwi’s is a brightly-lit staple, a reliable lamppost for the many years I’ve walked Broadway down into Bushwick. Half-upscale-grocery, half bargain-vegetable-treasure, it’s a well-lighted bastion of sanity off the Myrtle-Wyckoff J/M/Z train.

For the longest time I knew Mr. Kiwi’s as “the place with the hella cheap vegetables still in the case with the colorful signs”. They’ve maintained this vital piece of their business model – and I have come to find it’s only so unique. They have a brother deli called Mr. Piña just off the Marcy J/M/Z stop whose similarities cannot be denied. It’s the same vegetable specials, the same overly-expensive bottled juices, box sushi, and preciously branded maracons. Strangely I’ve always been ok with what Mr. Piña charges for beer; it’s as cheap at Mr. Kiwi.

If cheap produce is one half of their business model, Grab-and Go is the other. The majority of their dry goods are of a snacky nature, be it morning or evening appetites they’re appealing to. This is where things get expensive: four-dollar chip bags, seven-dollar salsa, five-dollar noodles salads. These are all items designed to be eaten with other foods. It’s rare that you’d ever walk out of Mr. Kiwi with a hot meal for under six bucks.

In part, yes, this is because they don’t do hot food. No deli counter, no sliced meats; they’re a low maintenance operation outside the vegetable turnover. They do have a minimal selection of raw meats, but chicken at five-dollars-per-pound is strictly not affordable. That said, they have an unofficial collaboration with a taco truck who operates on the curb outside during nights.

It’s a different feeling however at 5:45PM, seeing two very distinct crowds arrive for their nightly rituals. You have the more affluent mini-cheesecake-and-a-six-pack crowd who bring their own bags and don’t blink at the fact that this is their 40th dollar spent just today at Mr. Kiwi, the morning’s allotment frittered away on Green Juice and a vegan noodle salad for a cool 13-dollars. Then, you have the mothers and grandmothers and cane-wielding gentlemen who spend the majority of their hour-long visit shuffling over the same three bins of vegetal jewels buried beneath the justifying chaff, making sure their seven-dollar choice is as righteous as possible.

And yet they’ve still got that moment we can all come together and enjoy: Sangria de Chateau Diana. Truly the best of both worlds.

• Bodega Cat: Previously Seen, Currently Absent
• Dustiest Item: Green Mountain Gringo Salsas
• Best Deal: $1.00/bunch Asparagus
• Most Expired Beer: N/A
• Chateau Diana: Yes, and Sangria!
• Imports Ratio: 10:1::American:Foreign
• ATM Fee: $0.99
• Juul Pods/Price: N/A
• 24 Hour: Yes
• Credit Minimum: $10 Stated, not enforced at $9.82
• Bag Waste Reduction Law: Compliant
• Music Overheard: Radioactive – Imagine Dragons
• Proper Name: Mr. Kiwi’s
• Building Owner: 957 SANG CORP
• Last Transacted: 1992, in satisfaction of a Mortgage

Out of my lengthy hiatus I’ve extended my search for cheap food worth eating to Bushwick’s tightest neighbor BedStuy! Originally a home for Trinidadian roti and Haitian cuisine and Southern Fried Chicken, BedStuy now has a breadth of variety such as one expects across the rest of New York.

Whatever, I’m not here to talk about the shit making the lists over at Eater or Thrillist or The Infatuation. I want to look at the humble Deli, the bragless Bodega. These little recession-proof comida stations are your happiness at lunch. Ignore the swaths of predictable potato chips and the omni-present Boar’s Head sandwich station: it’s the small differences that set apart these home-grown luncheon stations.

You walk to the back. You look at that hot bar. You get some fuckin’ 5 dollar lunch.

I’ll say it again. 5-dollar. Soft rice. Succulent beans. Perfectly stewed or roasted meat. For 7 bucks, you can DOUBLE your portion and eat TWICE. And this is just the BASE layer. Yanno what else they sell at your local deli?

Hot sauce. Eight brands. Spicy Corn snacks. Lime wedges. Cilantro. Cotija. Break these down per meal and you’ve got a literal tongue carnival for at MOST an extra dollar a day.

Stop eating at SweetGreen. Burn down your local DIG. Come back to your Puerto Rican brethren and get a real hearty meal. We can go vegan next year.

191 Knickerbocker is a chummy place. It has that new-restaurant feel, with an open floor-plan typical of many Bushwick places. The paint is primary, bold colors, and the bar hasn’t been around long enough to accumulate an eclectic amount of ornamental knickknacks.

The family five we were sat against the far wall, taking in a healthy view of the bar and an oversized bold gold painting of a face. It was easily my favorite wall decoration, head-and-tails above the quirky puzzles and garage sale finds that adorned the walls. We’d been out for a long night so we were in a perfectly brunch mood.

The menu at a first glance is as stereotypical as you can get. Chicken and waffles. Eggs benedict. Pancakes. French toast. Top to bottom the whole thing had me on edge, worried that I was about to jump knee-deep in a mediocre pile of starches. Nothing seemed to stand out so I went with the chicken and waffles, hoping that a little savory with my sweet would keep my interest. Brunch cocktails were ordered. I stuck with black coffee.

The first indication of excellence was the hot sauce on all the tables. Habanero flavored and home-made (by the owner’s mother no less) it certainly got my attention. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad. The cocktails too, while not original, were well executed.

The chicken arrived atop bacon-waffles, a detail that only made me skeptical when ordering. More than a simple gimmick the bacon really made that waffle happen as it was blended perfectly with the batter and in just the right ratio. On top, the chicken was amazingly crispy and juicy throughout, as good as that served by the Crown Fried Chicken joint two blocks from my house. Drowned in genuine maple syrup and the house hot sauce, it made my day.

The chicken and waffles may have been the highlight of the meal but the rest of our table weren’t let downs. The burger was monstrous and well-executed, topped with all the works and on exactly the right kaiser roll. The macaroni and cheese was laden with sharp cheddar, gooey and crispy at once. The eggs benedict, available three-ways, were on-par brunch offerings. Each of these also benefited enormously from the gallon of hot-sauce I consumed alongside.

I’d go back, eventually. Their cocktail menu is interesting enough and with how well executed our meal was, I’d be hard pressed to imagine having a bad experience. My biggest hesitation is with the style of what they’re doing. At its essence it is bar-food. No matter how well that is executed, that style will always have me thinking not about the food in front of me, but instead about the next beer I’m going to drink.

Ecuadorian food is not my speciality. Frankly, Latin food isn’t my specialty, especially once we get outside the very broad “Mexican” denomination. I hold myself only partially to blame as much of Latin food looks very similar from the outside; same ten ingredients cooked up into hundreds of shapes and styles. The larger difference for me is less about nationality and more about individual expression; this is how my family did it and how I ate it and now you pay for it. Tropical is this, baby.

An empty dining room does little to engender positive feelings of any kind and the bright lighting didn’t help. It felt like they had closed half an hour before we had arrived. The server was kind enough but slow to acknowledge us and she gave us water bottles instead of New York City’s finest tap. The most welcoming gesture bestowed to us was a full jar of nuclear-waste-green salsa verde.

We ordered a tamale and ceviche to open the meal. Where the tamale was dry and porky, the ceviche was swimming and fishy. These would have been excellent complements to one another had they been served at the same time. The incredible excess of leche-de-tigre-lite with which we were blessed would have well washed our tamale parched throats. Instead, we used water. Both dishes were only worth a mention in the pursuit of word count.

Our main course was a large plate of fried plantains, pork, and hotdogs. While I want to say it was called something like patacones y puerco I’m pretty sure its name should be vehículo para salsa verde. By the end of the meal I had polished off almost half a cup of salsa verde perched upon crispy plantains, browned hotdog pieces, and mounds of fried, dry pork. It’d be unfair to ignore the four very nicely fried pieces of pork. However this meal’s glaring chewy reality was that it was in desperate need of being thickly coated in bright-green limey-delicious.

All said and done it was an expensive way to slurp down an absurd amount of salsa verde. The prices at Tropical don’t compare to trendy Manhattan Latino facades but they still were high for what was provided. Other places in the neighborhood deliver a better product at the same or lower prices. But maybe that’s the style: make an amazing salsa and don’t worry too much about how it gets into the mouth. Then again, not everyone’s home cooking belongs in a restaurant.