It’s the wee hours on a Saturday, and in just a little while farmers will be driving in from upstate and tents and tables will be set up and piled with fruit, vegetables, flowers, herbs, breads, meats, jams and cheese. Everyone, from professional chefs to budding cooks, shops at the Greenmarket year-round, but if you ask me, August is the best time to go.

Why? Well I’m all for supporting local farms and eating fresh, organic produce, but to be honest, I enjoy the little dose of sensory overload I get here. The variety of produce at this time of year is stunning: exquisitely sweet yellow peaches (watch for bees), a couple dozen strains of heirloom tomatoes (check NYmag for suggestions), sweet corn, watermelon, sunflowers, bunches of fragrant basil, plump blackberries, as well as perennial staples (garlic, shallots, kale).

The prices aren’t always cheap, but the quality is usually great–one of the aforementioned heirloom tomatoes will make that vine-ripened Jersey-grown cluster from Whole Foods taste like a shadow of a tomato.

While looking for one thing, I usually spot it in a form that I’ve never tried before. While looking for salad greens, I picked up some purslane; while shopping for mushrooms, I decided to try oyster mushrooms. I once asked a man selling jam what the difference was between the raspberry and black raspberry jam and he was flummoxed. “That’s like asking the difference between steak and lobster,” he said. I went with the lobster.

The reason for all this Greenmarket love is that I’ve been cooking at home for the first time in forever. Yes, I’m a rarefied beast who largely subsists on takeout, leftovers, supermarket buffets, and beer. That is, until lately. Stay tuned for more on this story.

Greenmarket
Union Square West, between 14th St. and 17th St.
Mon, Wed, Fri, Sat 8am-6pm
A guide to what’s in season

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 can eat poutine any time of year, but this Quebecoise treat tastes best when it’s really, really cold outside. I’m talking Montreal in January cold, the kind of frigidness that invades unusual places like your eyeballs and your teeth. Now that I don’t drive a car anymore, I don’t mind winter. I enjoy having an excuse to stay home, drinking dark beer and swaddling myself in layers of wool–the better to hide the gut I’m packing from savoring my favorite foods. Poutine is actually very simple–it’s just french fries and cheese curds, melted into savory gobs under a layer of steaming gravy. But it is somewhat tricky to execute. Proper curds are not easy to find, the fries should be fresh, the gravy ratio MUST be perfect, and a snowstorm backdrop doesn’t hurt either. Unlike your typical diner cheese fries, which fill you with self-loathing and regret, poutine, when it’s done right, warms your cockles, which I believe are located somewhere somewhere between your gullet and your spleen.

Poutine is pretty rare in the States but there are a few places in New York City that serve it. On Saturday, I checked out TPoutine on Ludlow Street, a relatively-new burgers-and-fries shop advantageously located in the booze-soaked Lower East Side. A classic poutine ran a steep $7.25, and came served in an appealing iron skillet, the curds just beginning to melt in their gravy bath. The cheese curds tasted authentic, and were generously-sized, although this possibly prevented them from completely melting. The fries, to their credit, maintained a fair amount of crispness, but the gravy didn’t taste much more than hot. A friend’s plate arrived with entirely too much gravy, which soon made the fries soggy, so it may be to your advantage to tell them to go light. All-in-all, this did a fair job satiating my poutine craving, but I’m told it’s not as tasty as the stuff you’d find in Montreal. TPoutine is open til 5am on weekends, so I could foresee a making late-night pit stop, but I’d probably keep looking for the really good stuff–my next destinations will likely be Mile End or Sheep Station in Brooklyn. There’s also decent and cheaper version available at Pommes Frites in the East Village.

TPoutine
168 Ludlow St between Stanton St & Houston St.
Tue-Wed 12pm-2am, Thu-Sat 12pm-5am, Sun 12pm-2am

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.