“Glorified Popeye’s,” he muttered. “No it’s more special than that,” I said. We both fell to the task of devouring fried chicken down to the bone. Maybe I thought it was special because of the setting—a summer night with a hint of fall, after the most photogenic sunset the city had seen in months; the JMZ train rumbling not-unpleasantly overhead, a beer cooling in my hands. But on second thought, maybe it really was the chicken.

My chicken box ($11), which was served on a plate, came with three pieces of brined, deep-fried chicken. Lightly crisp, golden crust (not too greasy), a bitable prison for tender, juicy meat. Umami-receptors-screaming-hell-yes, belt-loosened-to-first-notch, satisfaction. Pies n’ Thighs also has a pulled pork box, fried catfish box, chicken brisket sandwich box, and burger, but I can vouch for none of these. Just get the fried chicken!

The chicken box also came with a choice of side and a biscuit. Since they were out of hush puppies, I chose grits, and my associate chose collard greens. What passed next can only be described a mutual flicker of disapproval for the other’s taste in Southern side dishes. The grits were fine–a creamy baseline for fried chicken savoriness–at least around the edges. I did not appreciate the squirt of hot sauce soaking in the middle. It’s like putting hot sauce on mashed potatoes; sure, you can do that, but should you? The collard greens were allright, if you like greens seasoned with plenty of salt and pork. The biscuit tasted like it had been baked much earlier that day and had been patiently waiting my arrival. But since it was otherwise a fine specimen, I liked it well enough. I didn’t expect much from a side of peaches and cilantro ($4), and it pretty much met my expectations. Maybe this combination works in a salsa, but I thought that the perfectly lovely peach wedges would have been better off left unadulterated by cilantro. Still, none of the sides were bad, and I came dangerously close to not having room for pie.

I ordered a slice of key lime and my associate ordered banana cream ($4.50/each). When our slices arrived the waitress switched them so the banana cream settled in front of me. When my associate promptly pulled it back across the table, and sent the key lime sliding my way, I realized that perhaps I should have ordered differently. But since I’ve been forged by the fire of many years of snacking, I tucked away my pie without complaint. The key lime filling was suitably tart and creamy, but the pie would have been 100% better had the graham cracker crust not been soggy.  The banana cream slice was far better. I did sense something in the banana filling that tasted suspiciously instant-puddingy, but I merely noted it and moved on to enjoyment.

I have a feeling I’ll be back. Pies n Thighs is not a fried chicken “event” like the $100 Momofuku chicken dinner, or trek-worthy, like a soul food meal in Harlem. But it’s pretty likely I’ll be in Williamsburg some evening, wandering from one place to the next, and it will strike me that what I really want right now is some plain, unpretentious, and tasty fried chicken. Without setting foot in a Popeye’s. And this time I will order the banana cream pie.

Pies n Thighs
166 S. 4th St. at Driggs St.
Mon-Fri breakfast: 8-11, lunch: 11-4, dinner: 5-12
Sat-Sun brunch: 10-4, dinner: 5-12

Rice to Riches sells rice pudding. Really, that’s it. But wait! This isn’t like other rice pudding you’ve had; this rice pudding is FUN! At least, everything about this shop pleads for you to think so–from the pod-like front doors, to the overly-designed packaging, which consists of indestructible orange plastic UFO-shaped dishes and odd curving implements from a future where spoons are obsolete. Not to mention the girth-obsessed signage everywhere,  proclaiming “big is beautiful” and “no skinny bitches.” Located smack in shopping-obsessed Soho, it’s no surprise this place is a draw for out-of-towners. But if there are two things that can do battle with “touristy” and “kitschy,” they are “creamy” and “delicious.”

I admit it, this probably the best rice pudding I’ve ever had; and some of the best pudding I’ve had, period. If I’m ever packed off to a retirement home where I’m forced to make do with watery instant rice pudding, you can bet I’ll be mail ordering this stuff by the tub. The rice is cooked to ideal tenderness, and compliments a deliriously creamy texture that can only be faulted for being too rich. Half a serving of their smallest size, the “solo” ($6) is usually enough to send “full now please stop” signals ricocheting from my brain. Flavors have been composed to mimic their real-world counterparts with satisfying accuracy: coast to coast cheesecake, fluent in french toast, and take me to tiramisu being among my favorites. I’d advise avoiding citrus-based flavors like surrender to mango, which is completely overpowering. My all-time favorites are the relatively-plain category 5 caramel and understanding vanilla, with a topping like crumbled graham crackers or caramel sauce ($1 each). Luckily, free samples of puddings are available and limited only by how much you wish to irritate the counter person helping you.

The only thing that really nags me is the packaging. Once you get past the initial novelty, it seems a bit of a waste. Sure the tupperware-grade bowls are reusable, but I don’t need more plastic dishes. Throw my pudding in a paper cup so I at least feel like I’m not poisoning planet earth, why don’t you? Help a skinny bitch out here.

Rice to Riches
37 Spring St. between Mulberry St. and Mott St.
Sun-Thu 11am-11pm, Fri-Sat 11am-1am.

Papabubble, a downtown candy lab specializing in flavorful hand-made hard candies, smells like the inside of a sugar bowl. Jars of crayon-colored treats line the walls, alongside oversized spiralling lollipops and jewel-hued ring pops. There’s usually a couple of candymakers at work behind the counter, in what amounts to a free show. Today they’re busy chopping up long glossy sticks of spun sugar into bite-sized discs. “Is that a ghost?” I ask, pointing to the tiny freakish face imprinted on each one, and I’m told it’s actually a special Hannibal Lecter Halloween candy. I’m handed a sample, which dissolves into bright mango on my tongue.

Watching candy being made is a strangely mesmerizing experience (see ropes of candy being pulled by hand in this CoolHunting video) and since Papabubble makes custom candies and sugar sculptures on request, there’s usually some new part of the process to watch, or a different flavor to sample, each time you visit. The prices for pre-packaged candies are not cheap–2oz bags run $5, 7oz small jars are $14.50, and a one-of-a-kind ring pop is $20—but the candies come in beautiful bespoke designs each one packs a lot of flavor.

Varieties include pink grapefruit, raspberry, anise, bergamot, pear, fizzy cola, red chili, ginger lemon, and several others. My favorite so far is watermelon with salt and chili (spicy, sweet, salty–just like the watermelon sugar cocktail from Mayahuel in candy form). This time around I did not spot the watermelon candies but I was sorely tempted by the black and white “Halloween mix” and ended up purchasing a big cherry-flavored black heart lollipop ($7). Highly recommended stop for sampling, browsing, or picking out a cute gift.

Papabubble
380 Broome St. between Mott St. and Mulberry St.
Tue.-Sat. 12pm-9pm, Sun 12pm-6pm
Other locations in Amersterdam, Barcelona, and Tokyo

Think Coffee serves a mean cappuccino any day, but their iced cappuccino is My Drink for the summer. This beverage consists of 3 shots of espresso mixed with a little cold milk (to avoid plastic cup meltage), a bunch of ice, and lots of fluffy foamed milk spooned over top. The fusion of warm foam settling over ice cubes is not to be missed, so be sure to grab yours off the counter as soon as it’s ready. While it’s not technically on the menu—the chalkboard lists an “iced latte” which contains more milk and less foam—it has quite a few fans. “This is my favorite drink to make,” said the barista during my last visit.

There are other coffeeshops that I like, such as Abraco and Ninth Street Espresso, but I generally don’t linger there. At Think, however, sometimes I’ll settle in and do some reading. If you can tolerate the top 40 they play on weekends, it’s the kind of roomy, laid-back corner locale that seems to invite hanging out in blast of the A/C, or grabbing a chair outside to muse over the yuppified shell of CBGBs. Often enough, there’s someone with a lot of bags who seems to have set up a temporary office/rsidence, although there’s no free wifi at the Bowery location. You have to head over to the Mercer Street locale, deep in NYU country, to have webernets with your Think Coffee.

As for the menu, the coffee is organic and fair trade, and the bagels are the first thing they run out of (around 10:30am). Later in the day Think servers tolerable pre-made sandwiches (about $7), including mozzarella and tomato, hummus and vegetables, and swiss and prosciutto, or toasted cheese made-to-order. A number of diet-busting treats, like rugelah, brownies, and pecan pie, are in regular supply. In the evening they server beer and wine, with $3 pints during happy hour from 7-8. Recently, the listed beer was the mighty tasty Sixpoint Sweet Action.

Think Coffee
1 Bleecker St. (corner of Bowery & Bleecker)
Also: 248 Mercer St. (between 3rd St. & 4th St.)
Mon-Fri 7am-11:30pm Sat & Sun: 8am-11:30pm

An all-vegan ice cream parlor that looks like an old-time sweet shop, Lula’s might be the lacktard’s jackpot. Now instead of envying the cone-lapping trances shuffling down the sidewalk, gastronomically-challenged folks and their omnivore buddies can bond over frozen treats here. The menu includes a couple of soy milk-based ice creams, including a convincing cake batter flavor, and about ten nut milk-based ice creams, many of them gluten-free. My favorite of the nut-based flavors is cinnamon, but other notables include orange creamsicle, cookies and cream, and mango coconut. Sampling is not only permitted, but encouraged, and I didn’t get any “omfg she’s asking for a fourth sample” attitude.

(There seems to be some variation in scoop sizing. On my second trip I got a much larger scoop)

As for taste, this is a pretty good dairy substitute, with no weird soy flavor and spot-on creamy texture. There’s a telling lack of buttery richness, but I can eat about half a dish ($3.75) before I even register it. Vegan treats like white-”chocolate” covered pretzels and pectin gummi bears are also for sale, not to mention egg creams ($3.75). An egg cream is a classic NYC beverage (Lou Reed even wrote a song about it) that usually consists of chocolate syrup, seltzer and milk mixed to form a fizzy head. Lula’s non-dairy version was a fair approximation of the classic egg cream I’d had at Gem Spa, although in both cases I got the sense that I was drinking a poor man’s ice cream float.

Lula’s Sweet Apothecary
516 East 6th Street between Avenue A and Avenue B
Wed 3pm-10pm Thu 3pm-12am Fri-Sat 3pm-1am