“Lower East Side food tour!” a man with a yellow umbrella called out, practically shoving a pamphlet into my face as I stumbled out of the subway at Houston Street on 2nd Avenue. The summer air was thick and humid. Crowds spilled out of bars and cafes, and the scents of pastrami, shawarma carts, and – oddly enough – charcoal wafted through the streets. It was my first evening in New York City after a turbulent eight-hour flight from London that had worsened both an emerging headache and hunger pangs, and I was ready to eat my body weight in anything within arm’s reach.
Most visitors to New York City think they know its food scene from films and television, and will find themselves grabbing questionable street cart hot dogs or one of the many dollar pizza slices scattered across the city.
