Rafael Blunt Walk

Right at the cusp of spring, the city goes through a weird phase of jumping from hot to cold and back again. As the trees are just getting ready to bloom, people are eager to come outside for a quarantine-less spring and to get themselves warmed up for a hot summer. For myself, this time of year is what I would call my own personal March madness, where I go on the hunt for the best new (to me) restaurants and little food spots around the city. And fresh off a bout of good weather, I thought it would be perfect to venture off into Brooklyn, where every neighborhood has a different vibe and along with it, comes new cultures and cuisines. To get myself prepared for the munch-athon that was about to go down, I rolled myself 3 blunts to hold me over for the pre, during, and post-feast.

After about 3 transfers and an hour of riding the train, I ended up In one of my favorite neighborhoods, Prospect Park. It’s one of my favorites because of the variety of food within walking distance of each other and for its massive beautiful park, which was my first stop before my food tour. I walked up to the entrance of the park and some Citibikes caught my eye, so I hopped on one. I sparked my first blunt right before I set off on the bike trail and as soon as I inhaled I could already feel my hunger brewing. I put my foot to the pedal and made my way around the park puffing like a steam engine, I got a couple of weird looks from other bikers but I was too in my own world to notice. Along the trail, there were a few landmarks here and there that peaked my interest but were busy with people so I clipped the blunt to go check them out. I did this until I found myself under a mini gazebo next to this calm pond somewhere in the center of the park all by myself. It was the perfect place to sit in tranquility as I watched ducklings learn to fly as I finished my blunt. I want to say I sat there long after the blunt because it was so peaceful. I got to thinking about what kind of food I was craving and what Brooklyn had to offer.

Prospect Park has many staples in its food scene, and the first that came to my mind was Italian food. If you come to BK and you get bad Italian food you must have gotten lost and found yourself in queens somewhere. I hit up a quick google search of the area for the best Italian food and I found a spot not too far called Giovanni’s Brooklyn Eats, so I got back to pedaling. I parked my Citibike around the corner and I pulled up to this red awning with this classy old New York feel. The restaurant wasn’t too busy but then again it was a weekday afternoon during COVID so 3 groups of 4 meant this place was popping. I ordered a penne a la vodka with grilled chicken to go because ain’t no stopping this food train. And as I wait for my pasta, I hit Yelp to find the next best thing in the neighborhood. A couple of spots came up and it seemed that there was a large Mexican and Vietnamese community in the area so I chose the top-rated place from each and plotted them on my map. As I was doing that, one of Giovanni’s waiters presented me with a warm tray of glossy pasta and two mountains of Parmesan cheese. I must have taken two steps away from the place before I was fork deep in silky smooth vodka sauce tightly hugging every nook and cranny of the penne pasta. The chicken was so tender and absorbed the flavor of the sauce so well, I almost found myself eating it all as if I didn’t have more food coming my way. I got a third way through it and I packed it away for a dreamy reunion at a later time.

I found myself a taco spot a couple of blocks further into Brooklyn, and for those that don’t know, tacos are one of my favorite foods so I had high expectations, so I sprinted to the next spot. As I pull up to the place, Fatty Daddy Tacos, it seems quiet. I enter and I get the same feeling as I did outside, as I see the owner doing expense sheets at the front and behind her, the kitchen staff was just hanging out on break. I was worried but now I was committed to the spot. The owner took my order of one steak taco With a surprised look. She asked me “just one?” And I just nodded. Within seconds of giving her the cash, I see the kitchen staff jump into action, one guy setting up the to-go tray and another guy filling the tortilla. It was like an efficient assembly line and at the receiving end was I, with a grin that probably extended out of my mask. I stepped right out front to dive into this delicious looking taco. As soon as I took my first bite all my worries were gone. The steak melted in my mouth as it and the salsa verde both did a dance over my tastebuds. The onions added a crisp crunch that gave a great contrast to every soft bite into the doubled up flour tortillas. Seconds later I found myself biting into my fingers wondering where my taco went, cause it was gone. I did a quick about-face back into Fatty Daddy’s and I was greeted with a look of “I told you so” as I ordered 2 more steak tacos to go. I packed them away in the vault with the rest of the penne and I made my way back onto the streets.

Now, semi-full from my last stop I had to build up some more hunger for my last destination. So I got out my shorter blunt just to make the walk a productive one. As I smoked, I walked down a strip of thrift stores and small trinket shops, there were even a couple of artisan shops selling bread and a butcher or two. I decide to turn off the main streets because schools were letting out and I did not want to piss off any local parents with my smoking. The neighborhood was built purely of brownstones and the occasional apartment building, it felt like such a warm and comfortable place to live. It has a hipstery New York grittiness to it but you can tell it’s a quiet neighborhood for the most part. I took it all in as I looked up at the trees lining the blocks that were just on the edge of blooming. That’s when the thought crossed my mind “maybe I’m too high.” just as quickly as that idea came, it was gone in a puff of smoke, as the last of the blunt burned out and I was a block away from the Vietnamese place. Now when I think of Vietnamese food it’s usually Pho, which is an amazing brothy soup that’s similar to ramen but with completely different flavor profiles. But this time around I had to get what is called a Banh Mi, which is a baguette sandwich that has some French influence but the filling is solely Vietnamese deliciousness. The best rated spot by a mile was simply called Henry’s, which specialized in Banh Mis. As I pull up there is a large crowd outside all holding receipts, which to me is a good sign of great food. As I go in to order my sandwich, I can smell the chicken and pork grilling in the back, along with the stewing of veggies for some orders of pho. A guy takes my order and asks me to join the crowd outside. I want to say I was waiting for like 8-10 minutes, all the while, I see people coming in and

out with these beautiful looking teas with the little bubbles of tapioca at the bottom. It made me regret not getting one myself but I wasn’t going to wait another 10 minutes. As my order was called, I was presented with a warm sub sandwich with carrots and pork peeking out of its parchment paper bag, I had to take out one half and I inspected the beautiful cross section. My mouth watered as I see the pork being embraced by a bed of carrots and cucumbers all smothered in a spicy mayo. As I take a bite, I dissolve into the warm baguette as the rush of perfectly seasoned pork and spice floor my taste buds. The crunch of the carrots blew away the taco from earlier. This had to be the best thing I have eaten all day. I must have looked horrifying to onlookers because I threw modesty straight out the window for this sandwich. I thought I was done after I devoured the first half and I started heading back to the train, but the other half of that Bahn mi was weighing heavy on my mind. Let’s just say by the time I got to the train station the only thing that remained was the parchment bag. After all that food the last thing on my mind was dessert but I always had room for a blunt.

By this point, I wasn’t too mobile so I parked my ass right in front of the legendary Nitehawk theatre and lit up. No one really paid me any mind so I sat there listening to music and contemplating the food coma I was going to fall into on my ride back on the train. I also looked down at the food I had remaining and I thought to myself I might have overdone it but then again how often do you get to go out and about nowadays. Once the blunt was done I rolled myself to the nearest train and rode back to the city in the heaviest of sleep from the itis.