Of all of the qualities that make New York the world’s greatest city, my favorite is its sheer profusion.  There may be a few cities that are more ethnically diverse (though I’m hard-pressed to think of one) and certainly a few, like Hong Kong or Tokyo, that are even more crowded.

But none possess the overwhelming and intensely satisfying variety that characterizes New York.  And that sense of sensory overload is never more apparent than in its food.  Here, a couple of days after returning from a week on business there, are some thoughts about the state of New York cuisine.  First, the good news:

1.  Those mobile carts selling awful rubbery hot dogs in a slimy stew of slithery onions and tomato sauce seem to be disappearing from New York’s streets, replaced by larger carts selling fresh-looking halal meats with lots of vegetables. 

2.  Hill Country, on West 26^th street, serves barbecue that’s not only authentic, it’s better than the Texas original (better, at least, than any I ever had there, although I lived in East Texas, near the Louisiana border, so I might not be the best judge of the matter.)  I’ve often read about barbecue that was so flavorful it didn’t need any sauce at all, and I never believed it — until I tasted Hill Country’s brisket and pork ribs.

3.  The Grand Central Oyster Bar, one of America’s great cultural institutions, is as good and as crowded as ever, with a menu listing 31 varieties of fresh fish and 36 different types of raw oyster, including the gargantuan Hama-Hama from Washington State, so big that you need a knife and fork to eat it.

4.   New York is one of the few places in America where you can get Japanese robata cooking, a kind of charcoal-grilled cuisine that’s much tastier than the better-known yakitori, and is perfectly suited to the American palate.  In fact, it could become more popular than sushi if any savvy restaurateur ever figured out how to market it to the heartland.

5.  The touristy Little Italy is still hanging in there, and a walk through the adjacent Chinatown, the largest in America, is an incredible experience, unless you’re a duck.

6.  For years, I’ve been mentally collecting the funny signs I see on New York restaurants.  My favorite:  “Hair & Nail Deli Salad,” which sounds like a dish Marcel Duchamp might concoct.

7.  Most of the old-line delis selling enormous slab-like corned beef and hot pastrami sandwiches have been replaced, especially in the Times Square area, by restaurants serving salads and other healthy fare.

Now, the bad news:

1.  Most of the old-line delis selling enormous slab-like corned beef and hot pastrami sandwiches have been replaced, especially in the Times Square area, by restaurants serving salads and other healthy fare.

2.  The spread of the bagel through America’s heartland in the past decade or two not only transformed it into a gummy simulacrum of its former self, it eventually compromised the original article.  I saw signs on a couple of delis proclaiming that they sell real boiled bagels, a distinction that years ago was unnecessary to make.

3.  One of the things that once made a stroll through New York in the autumn so enjoyable was the hot roasted chestnuts the sidewalk vendors used to sell.  They’re still available here and there, but much less common than before.

4.  Out of some misplaced sense of cultural chauvinism, many of the vendors that once sold those horrible hot dogs have failed to replace them with the infinitely better-tasting Chicago-style dog.  This is almost as bad as the cultural chauvinism that prevents Chicago pizza joints from replacing their doughy deep-dish gut bombs with the infinitely better-tasting New York-style slice.

5.  Many years ago, a friend and I were in a taxicab stuck in traffic on the way to La Guardia.  Both of us happened to glance at a souvlaki vendor, then at each other, and a second later we dashed across the street, purchased two gyros with extra sauce, two orders of fries, and two Cokes, which we inhaled as the taxicab raced through the Holland Tunnel.  This is something I’ll never be able to do again — though not, come to think of it, because of any shortage of gyro vendors, but rather because in those days I was unacquainted with my cholesterol level, and had never heard of heartburn.    

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