Getting there This is the summer of 'The Bike'. I have been venturing out weekly on big expeditions, grazing along the way. Yesterday the itinerary took us up north along Riverside Drive (did you know there is a very old, very creepy graveyard at 155th and Riverside?) to Ft. Tyron Park (where a Mister Softee awaited). On the return, we crossed the George Washington bridge over to the Ft. Lee Historic Park on the Jersey side where there is a reenactment camp of colonial soldiers. Back in Manhattan, we decided to stop and check out some of the Chimichurri trucks (at least 6) parked along Amsterdam Ave. between 175th and 165th.
The Don'tLa Vecina #1 is one of the many chimichurri trucks parked on the avenue. Like the others, it is tagged in graffiti and the menu is scratched out in places, but we could still read the offerings: Cerdo oreja, pata, corazon and every other yucky part of the pig. Also chimichurri torta, made with a wafer thin beef products (looked like a Steak'um to me). We went for one torta ($4), two limon jugos naturales ($2) and two fried beef empanadas ($1 each). Chimichurri - a type of South American sauce used for beef - in this case was Russian dressing with a few squirts of hot sauce. The limon was about four scoops of CountryTime on ice and the beef empanada? Who knows what was really inside. Anjum couldn't finish his, but I soldiered on. In the name of Belly Up.
I should mention, however, that the proprietor, who didn't speak English, was really nice and walked us through the pig parts by pointing to his ears, lips, etc..as I called them out from the menu. We had high expectations; taco trucks in the city are usually pretty decent. But this was a sore disappointment. The Vegas-like lights made these chimichurri trucks seem more enticing than the food really was. We walked a few block out of sight before dumping our too-sweet limon jugos and pedaled onwards. I patted my belly, silently apologizing that I am an 'adventure' eater and will try anything for the sake of a good blog post.
The Do
Redemption was on the horizon. We whipped down St. Nicholas Avenue, where there is a highway of a bike lane. Slowing at 135th, we noticed a large group gathered on the streets and parked on lawn chairs. What was happening? The Teddy Pendergrass Tribute concert! Luck was on our side! We parked it for a few minutes, wandered among the crowd and then slowly headed south again. Riding back through Harlem on a Saturday summer evening is tops, people were street-partying, street ball was being played, music blasting.
A strip of Senegalese restaurants on 116th street awaited. We chose Sokhna, for no other reason than it looked welcoming. The food gods were helping us redeem the chimichurri experience. Sokhna is a family restaurant, bustling with take out business, and has a television pumping out African hip hop at the back. We ordered the chicken brouchette platter ($9), a fresh, house-made bissap juice and ginger juice ($2 each). The platter can easily feed two people and the chicken was excellently tender and well-marinated. The accompanying mountain of cous cous, flecked with raisins and pinenuts, was topped with stewed onions and olives. A pile of spicy, pickled onions accompanied the brouchettes. We mopped up the salty jous with fresh white rolls. The juice was amazingly good - I was so sorry I didn't buy several to bring home. We also ordered a baobab juice. This is a specialty African fruit, when made into a juice is a thick, sweet milkshakey thing. I preferred the strong ginger juice. The grand total was $18 for the feast, without a doubt one of the best food deals I have encountered in the city.
Where: Sokhna, 225 West 116th Street, 212-864-0081
