Cassava leaf stew and prayer rugs off the Cross Bronx. Get closer to your gypsy cabbie.
Blaze a trail through the last frontier—the South Bronx.
Quirky Latin-style steakcasa. More cow-feet soup, please.
Soul staples fried chicken, collards, cornbread get love here. Cursing does not.
Mofongo mega church, order it your way, from pig to crustacean.
Escape summertime haze of complex body odor for fried fishes and pre-noon brews by the City Island sea.
Whole-hog lovers break out their PR-flag bikini tops. Viva!
Exotic Honduran specialties, from pupusa to baleada. Real $2 price points.
Top Pick!
City Island B&B resto. Bathing suits, apparently, inappropriate attire.
Haute beach bum veteran caters to the whole family. King legs for Big Daddy, baby tails for Lil’ Junior.
A different kind of flesh for sale in Hunts Point. BBQ smoked in a trailer in an auto shop’s parking lot. Don’t be scared.
Taco fiends bumrush the spot for hand-pressed tortillas, hangover soup. Hardcore users only.
Tito Puente’s gets a Puritan makeover.
City Islander serving up Shamu-sized surf and turf reminiscent of the landlocked states.
Cozy seafood shack serving all stripes of fried crustacean.
City Island delight offers live tree, fabric tablecloths, delicate Northern Italian via Belmont via Yugoslavia. Don’t ask, just eat.
Boogie’s only coal oven pizza. Also brunch, sushi, and belly-dancing classes with comp apple hookahs. Lordy.
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