As I slogged into work the morning after Memorial Day, my bleary, weekend-weary eyes alighted on a most unexpected sight. The Schnitzel & Things truck, which has eluded me for months, was parked on 46th street, right in my lunch path. I canceled my morning bagel and an oh-so-subtle spring entered my step as I mentally prepared to schnitzel it up come lunchtime.

Schnitzel, a product of Austrian cuisine, is a boneless piece of meat that’s pounded flat, breaded, deep-fried, and served with a wedge of lemon. The most famous variation, wiener schnitzel, is made out of veal, but there are other varieties. The Schnitzel & Things truck serves chicken, pork and cod versions, as well as a toothsome-looking schnitzel burger, and bratwurst. Schnitzel can be ordered in a sandwich ($8) or as a platter with two sides ($10). Sides include potato salad, cucumber salad, french fries, chickpea salad, roasted beets, and mesclun salad (sample of 4 sides is $8).

I went with the chicken schnitzel platter. The cutlet was generously-sized, perfectly crisp, yet not terribly greasy–quite possibly ideal bookends for a schnitzel double down. A squirt of lemon, and generous dipping in pesto mayo sauce enhanced the otherwise plain flavor (ginger, olive, sriracha, and tartar sauces are also available, and absolutely essential). As for the sides, I enjoyed the roasted beets–the sweetness of the beets was cut by a crumbly layer of salty, rich feta cheese. The potato salad was… well, you’ll probably never see me get worked up about potato salad, but it was sufficiently tasty when dipped in mayo. In fact, my sole criticism with my lunch was I could’ve used more sauce.

I can only think of one other critique. I’ve always assumed food truck-eating should be, above all else, wallet-friendly. Platter or no, $10 is about the maximum that I can pay for truck fare without feeling chumpish. Even though it’s probably worth it, it’s better for my waistline if I don’t eat schnitzel too often anyway. Also, judging by the crowd of people during my early lunch stop, there will be a sizeable line following this truck around. But the queue moved swiftly, and they were handing out free, deep-fried balls of prosciutto and ricotta for folks to munch on, which certainly helps pass the time.

Schnitzel & Things truck
Check Twitter for locations

You know the expression, “life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans?” I was reminded of it after eating at Kampuchea. While I don’t know much about Cambodian cuisine, I know that Cambodia is close to Vietnam, so I was planning for some bahn mi-style goodness from Kampuchea’s num pang sandwiches. But as it turned out, the highlights of the meal were not what I was expecting.

On my first visit, I sat in the dining room, a streamlined space with a view of a spotless open kitchen. On my second trip, I ate at the adjoining Norry bar, dark, cozy room with rustic tables and cushioned benches. The Norry’s ipod was cranking MC5 and De La Soul, some of the rare hip-hop I can actually stand. Overall I slightly preferred the informal atmosphere of the bar to the dining room, although the menu was the same.

grilled corn

First of all, I was pleasantly surprised by the beer list. The Norry and dining room have several mircobrews on tap like Mothers Milk from Keegan Ales, Sixpoint Sweet Action, and Blue Point Toasted Lager. There was even a Belgian on tap (St. Bernardus). On both visits I opted for a cocktail to start, and the Norry ($14), a mix of lemongrass-infused maker’s mark, fig puree, honey syrup and lemon juice, was a winner. Most of the time I find restaurant cocktails to be disappointing, but this one was well-mixed and quite soothing for a cold–if a tad overpriced. I expected little from the grilled corn on the cob ($6), but I ended up savoring the roasted kernels covered with spicy chili mayo and coconut flakes. If you’ve had the corn at Cafe Habana you know what to expect, but this is twice as good. Fried chicken with chili-spiced salt ($11) was the perfect accomplice to a pint of Sweet Action, although the chicken was more lightly-breaded than deep-fried crunchy. The crispy pork belly with honey/cider glaze, scallions, and toasted lemongrass had a satisfying crispy layer–like a crust of bacon atop succulent pork and rivulets of fat.

fried chicken

Of the num pang I tried the catfish sandwich was the best ($11). The fish was topped with cracked pepper, honey, soy sauce, carrots, cucumbers, and cilantro, and served on a crunchy baguette. It was a well-balanced sandwich, if overpriced compared to what you’d pay for bahn mi. The cured bacon, pickled chili and red onion sandwich ($10) was poorly executed; the bacon was so tough it was impossible to get a good, balanced bite. The oxtail, tamarind, and honey sandwich ($13) wasn’t bad, but wasn’t especially enjoyable. I felt as though I should be eating a pulled pork sandwich, but the pork had been replaced with something stringier and suspiciously gamier. Granted, I’m not no oxtail connoisseur, and this may be a fine example of the ingredient. The sandwiches were served with sweet potato waffle chips, which were unforgiveably uncrisp.

catfish sandwich

Dessert was notable in that it was both a near-miss and a total disaster. The fried brichoe with apple butter, pecan, and butterscotch would have been good if the apple filling inside the doughy balls was warm instead of barely unfrozen. On the other hand, the honey granite with winter citrus and thai chili was, in a word, weird. Picture a bowl of shaved ice, topped with something akin to fruit and hot sauce. I’d recommend rolling into the Norry late at night for relaxed beers and appetizers, or maybe starting off the evening with a Norry cocktail and catfish sandwich. If you want a tasty sandwiches quite similar to this but cheaper, and atmosphere is no object, it’s a no-brainer: veer south into Chinatown for bahn mi.

Kampuchea and The Norry Bar
78 Rivington St. at Allen St.
Dinner: Mon 5:30pm-11pm, Tues-Thurs 5:30-1am, Fri-Sat 5:30pm-2am, Sun 5pm-11pm
Brunch: Sat-Sun 11am-3:30pm

Looking for a decent soft pretzel in New York City is a little like being thirsty in the middle ocean. There are pretzels everywhere, sold from ubiquitous street carts, but they’re completely inedible. Occaisionally one stumbles across handmade pretzels at a German bar like Loreley or Zum Scheider, but these places lack the get-it-and-go convenience of a cart. Sigmund Pretzel Shop, which opened last month, finally gives the Bavarian snack its due. A cafe and bakery headed by a former Bouley pastry chef, Sigmund sells fresh pretzels made on-site in small batches. Flavors include jalapeño cheddar, gruyere and paprika, garlic and parsley, salt, sesame, poppy, whole wheat, caramel, and cinnamon raisin ($3.00-$3.50). A choice of dip–whipped butter, herbed goat cheese, cream cheese, whole-grain mustard, honey mustard, or horseradish mayo–is included.  Pretzel sandwiches and donuts are also available.

The jalapeno-cheddar pretzel was by far my favorite. It was doughy and still-warm, with the cheese forming slightly-crunchy crust. Its lack of spice was forgiven since the whole-grain mustard dip added the needed kick. Although best eaten warm, it also travels extremely well. The cinnamon raisin pretzel with butter walked a fine line between savory and sweet, without being overly sugary or greasy. The passionfruit coconut donut was basically a thin doughy shell surrounding an intriguingly sweet-and-tart custard, but on the whole, I found it a little too sweet for a snack.

Seating is available, and with the smell of fresh-baked bread wafting from the kitchen and a row of windows overlooking Avenue B, this is a mellow place to stop for a quick bite. Try to go earlier to grab a fresh pretzel–they start selling out near closing time.

Sigmund Pretzel Shop
29 Avenue B between 2nd and 3rd St.
Tues-Sun 10am-10pm or until sold out. Closed Mon.

I usually exit Bloomingdale’s Soho through the back door, while toying with taking drastic measures. Like leaving the city for good so I’ll stop blowing money on pretty things I don’t need. A right on Crosby street and a left on Broome puts me within reasonable distance of Chinatown, where I can atone for my purchase my finding something cheap for dinner. It’s no accident that enthusiasm for bahn mi spiked as the economy tanked–these hearty Vietnamese sandwiches are famously wallet-friendly. But you can skip the $5 versions at Baogette and Nicky’s. There’s better stuff downtown.

Bahn Mi Saigon Bakery on Mott street masquerades as a jewelry store but I have never seen anyone buy the candy-colored plastic beads in its window. A single long bench along the wall stretches toward the sandwich counter in the back, and a dry erase board hanging from the ceiling functions as the menu. The different sandwiches include  pork, chicken, sardine, pate, meat ball, and buddhist (mushrooms and tofu); there’s also papaya shrimp salad and summer rolls. Everything is four or five bucks, and the classic bahn mi, with pork, is $3.75. When asked “spicy or no spicy” I usually split the difference and request medium.

The pork bahn mi is served on a served on a crunchy baguette scraped with mayo and piled with fresh shreds of cold pickled carrots, radish, cucumber, and peppers. Topping it off are crunchy bits of sweet pork, a slice of lunchmeat-like pork roll, cilantro, and of course, hot sauce. This is a sandwich of great textures and well-married flavors, one that definitely has a smelly aura if you’re toting it around with you, but is utterly satisfying upon eating. In fact, half of this sandwich is enough for me, and a full one is a little overwhelming. Another plus, it doesn’t come doused in fish sauce, something I’ve encountered with other bahn mi shops.

For the full Saigon Bakery experience grab a bottle of the mysterious “Soy Drink” from the refrigerator. It’s actually just soy milk, but shit, it’s only 75 cents! Dinner under $5? Done.

Bahn Mi Saigon Bakery
138 Mott Street between Grand Street and Hester Street
Tue-Sun 10am-7pm. Closed Monday
Gets busy during lunch hour, go later if you don’t want to wait.

I had my first lobster roll tonight. I tried to wait until I got home to eat it, but the toasty bread was just faintly warm under the crinkled aluminum foil wrapping, and I was feeling weak. So I just had a nibble of buttery bun. Inside were big, tender pieces of fresh lobster, lightly seasoned with celery salt and pepper. Mayo made only the briefest appearance, a mere scraping. But the time I reached home my roll was all gone, and I promptly went back for another one. My snacking associate kindly placed the order, sparing me the indignity of seeming a woman obsessed. This time I had a crab roll, which was almost as delicious as the lobster roll, though not quite.

Did I mention I hardly ever eat seafood? In fact I had wondered if Luke’s Lobster was a wobbly proposition, when I spotted the Coming Soon sign, with its hand-drawn smiling lobster, tacked on a hole-in-the-wall next to Caracas Arepa Bar. After all, lobster is pretty expensive, maybe not ideal street fare from a little takeout spot. But on Thursday, as I threaded through a pack of foodies eager for Luke’s opening day, I thought there might be something to operating a lobster shack in the East Village. For one thing, although I’m hardly an expert, the tastiness of the lobster spoke for itself. For another, it cost half as much as it would elsewhere in the city. A 2oz lobster roll (maybe 4 inches) ran $8 and a 4oz roll was $14. My 2oz crab roll was only $5. Restauranteur Luke Holden ships his lobster wholesale from Maine, where his father owns a seafood plant, which may account for the low prices and freshness (according to NYmag, it takes 1.5 to 3 days for the lobsters to travel from the ocean to bun). Also, never underestimate the advantage of being open late on weekends on this stretch of East 7th street. I can easily foresee making a quick detour some evening, after a couple of drinks have loosened my hold on my wallet, and filled my head with strange ideas, and once-in-a-blue-moon cravings. Hopefully this winter has some clam chowder or lobster bisque in store.

Luke’s Lobster
93 E 7th St. between First Avenue and Avenue A
Sun-Wed 11am-12am, Thurs-Sat 11am-2am