Our biggest faux-pas in dealing with this financial pickle is this idea that we need to bail ourselves out. Since when are we not relying on other countries to save our collective asses? We're already like two trillion dollars in debt to China, and it looks like this credit crunch isn't hurting them all that much, so why not ask them for help? It's not like we haven't done it before. If our government is too stubborn to ask the People's Republic, it doesn't mean you can't go to them for relief. New York's Chinatown is home to some of the cheapest eats in New York, and luckily not that far from Wall Street, so goodbye Harry's and hello to that fried food cart on Canal Street.

Okay, so maybe getting lunch from a food cart is a tad too extreme. The economy's not that bad yet (and with winter coming, you'll want to sit inside). But speaking of warming up, you'll want some soup. No doubt your socks have holes, and you clearly can't pay the heating bill. Red broth can only mean hotness (gazpacho being the exception), and they don't come more crimson than the beef stew with ho fun at New Chao Chow. In a couple weeks, when pockets are almost bare, expect the line outside Food Sing 88 Corp. to recall the famous breadlines of Depression days. Hand-pulled noodles are chewy, long, and thick, and the beef noodle soup is large and only $5. Good or bad (don't worry, it's good), you're in no position to be picky. East Corner Wonton has soup so cheap (less than $5 a bowl), that two months ago, it would have been considered social suicide. Now, not eating there is financial suicide.

Depending on your situation -- and I imagine it's dire -- Chinatown has a bunch of trinket-sized treats for a dollar or less that can be surprisingly filling when combined in pairs or triplets. Nice One Bakery has hot dogs in buns for under a dollar, and the well-hidden Ah Wong bakery has more of the same. And while food is all hot and delicious, it isn't necessary in times of crisis. I've seen girls go weeks without eating. What you really need is a bargain massage in a shabby basement. Parlors in Chinatown are known to charge $1 per minute (foot, back, or head), but there are some who stray. The best place for this is Wu-Lim Services, where you'll be sharing a room with other destitute moneymen (and women) dropping just 70 cents per minute.

Finally, I've saved the best of China for last. Possibly the greatest thing they've done for this country -- other than make Infernal Affairs, thus leading to the US remake known as The Departed -- is give us the owners of New Green Bo, where the Shanghai dumplings are so oozey-good with salty, pork-infused juices that you won't even mind when the tiny bill comes.