Hell's Kitchen: Where the Catcalls are Fresh and Fruitful

Sometimes during the day, since it is summer, I indulge in my lunch break. Sometimes I'll grab a whole wheat sandwich with pepper turkey and avocado and sit in the courtyard of The Plaza across from Central Park. Sometimes my friend and office neighbor, Sarah and I will grab coffee or take a walk over to Whole Foods. Sometimes I grab a slice of pizza and take it, and my ipod to the middle of Columbus Circle and people watch.

All, I consider lovely ways to spend my time out of the office. But the loveliest of all is when I head west, to the old country, Hell's Kitchen, the place where I used to lay my head and fill my mouth. Back in those days I was waitressing, getting out at 3 in the afternoon. My time was plentiful, my wallet full of singles and my coffee table piled with my mother's old Cooking Light magazines and a subscription to Gourmet my friends sent to my apartment for Christmas. Most importantly, the Frutti Vendolo (what I dubbed HK's local green grocer before realizing the term green grocer existed) was just 4 blocks away.

I would scout the freshest items by day, scour the mags while that evening's meal was baking, boiling, marinating or grilling, only to assess and enjoy it that evening with company, or not company, and the cycle would begin again at 3 the next day if I didn't have an audition or rehearsal.

Many things changed in my life when I moved uptown. Now I go to Fairway, mostly after 10pm and much less frequently, for my mangos, watermelon and arugula in the summer, butternut squash and apples in the fall and (cross your fingers) ramps and cardoons in the spring (BTW- I didn't forget it- fuck winter, I'm ordering in!).

Nothing compares though. And so last night I predicted an errand run in the old neighb. during my break that would make a Frutti V. run possible. I grabbed my recipes and typed them into my Palm (Oh wait, Fairway and Palm? Maybe I have gotten fancier!?)

I walked in- I sifted through the jalepenos, found three perfect cucumbers, squeezed some mangos and ... wait... lifted up the cilantro with a face of obvious discontent.-Wilted. IMMEDIATELY from the back room:

"Hey hey miss," a young Spanish boy called out to me, "you want my fresh cilantro?"

"Oooo yeah!!!" I snuck into the room, all immature jumps to sexual innuendoes escaping me, replaced by the excitement fresh herbs give me. He looked for the perfect bunch and handed it over, "thanks!"

He went back to his watermelon cutting duties, but not before, "How 'bout a piece of watermelon? Fresh?"

"How could I say no!?"

And so, $6.83 later I had done a weeks worth of fruit, veggie and (especially fresh) herb shopping and indulged in my favorite summer treat!

Mario Batali always says to make friends with your fish monger to ensure the freshest fish. I say flirt with the young Spanish boys at the Frutti Vendolo to ensure a pleasant and fruitful shopping experience.