The vendors make up a de facto Latin American food court, with each stand offering some kind of handmade regional specialty. The Colombian stall offers dense, cheesy arepas, corn pancakes as pleasurably stultifying as opium; the El Salvadoran stand, rich and spicy papusas, meat-stuffed turnovers inside flaky dough. There are two Mexican stalls, one offering pork quesadillas and bottled sangria, and another barbacoa (spiced braised lamb or goat) — or, if you’re not up to that, cold boxes of fresh-cut tropical fruit.
The only barrier, really, is your appetite — nothing costs more than $5, and everyone is friendly enough to accommodate you if you don’t happen to speak Spanish. But it takes more than a few trips to sample everything. (Next week we plan on having some irresistibly brittle and salty Honduran chicharonnes, or fried pork skins.)
Related: The Red Hook Diet