Eating In Translation

Future Food Salon: Cricket Anyone?

Food-grade cricket protein doesn't always appear in six-legged form.

"Say Pepsi, please"

Largely effaced signage outside Sanaa Deli Grocery, 26 Macombs Pl. (at West 150th St.), Manhattan

Gourmet Sweets

"Pakistani pizza," said the fellow in charge, describing this chewy, very dense flatbread. At the outside serving table, another server called it by a more formal name, but above the clamor of the Pakistan Independence Day Mela, I didn't catch it. Fortunately, an EIT reader (thanks, @lobothecat!) quickly recognized it as katlama.

Also known as kutlama and qatlama, the oversized flatbread is decked out with a pasty masala that typically includes red chilies, coriander, and cumin, then deep-fried. This rendition (half, $5) also featured black peppercorns that became increasingly evident with every mouthful. Sad to say, at Gourmet Sweets katlama was prepared only for the mela; it's not on the everyday menu.

Previously: a moist trio of halwas, in orange, green, and tan (carrot, squash, and apple, at the time, $2.50 total).

Gourmet Sweets
1107 Coney Island Ave. (Glenwood Rd.-Ave. H), Ditmas Park, Brooklyn
718-421-4100

Saigon Vietnamese Sandwich

Basil-seed drinks at Vietnamese shops usually hook you up with something extra. The brownish substance, which up close resembles crumbled seaweed, comes from the fleshy part of poontalai seeds, also known as malva nuts, that have been soaked in water, then stripped of their exocarp and kernel. (Basil seeds must be soaked, too, before they take on that "frog's eggs" appearance.) Neither type of seed offers much flavor, but their textures, I've found, induce sipping and stimulate the salivary glands. The other ingredients in this not-too-well-labeled beverage ($2.50) seem to be water, sugar, and more sugar.

Previously: Of the dozen-plus banh mi on offer, the easy way to go is "number one, spicy." Even sauced up, the house special (lately $4.50) — grilled pork, Vietnamese salami, and sliced pork roll with the customary carrot, daikon, and cilantro — won't set your mouth aflame. You'll need another excuse if you want to reach for a drink.

Saigon Vietnamese Sandwich
(formerly Viet-Nam Banh Mi So 1)
369 Broome St. (Mott-Elizabeth Sts.), Manhattan
212-219-8341
www.Vietnamese-Sandwich.com

Conway BBQ

Soft-serve taro yogurt with passion fruit, lychee, and strawberry boba (39 cents per oz.). Tapioca pearls aren't really to my taste — this was a shared dessert — but the sourness of the yogurt was very appealing.

Conway BBQ
New World Mall Food Court, stall 22
136-20 Roosevelt Ave. (Main-Union Sts.), Flushing, Queens

Mulberries

Often you'll lay eyes a mulberry-littered New York sidewalk before you'll notice the tree itself. (The same is true of Miami date palms.) Birds shun the fallen fruit; if you nibble, your berries should come fresh from the tree, too.

Mulberries
West 133rd St. (Eleventh-Twelfth Aves.), Manhattan

Fette Sau

Food waste: bad. Sweeping the residual meat choppings from customer orders into the adjoining tray of burnt end baked beans (large, $8): good.

Fette Sau
354 Metropolitan Ave. (Roebling-Havemeyer Sts.), Williamsburg, Brooklyn
718-93-3404
www.FetteSauBBQ.com

Tamarind sweets vendor

At Asian markets, tamarind sweets are typically irregular lumps the size of marbles, rattling in hard plastic boxes. Their commercially-bagged cousins from Mexico and the Caribbean are often big around as golf balls; some are stiff, some, softer, but none are as fresh as these.

The Spanish-speaking gentleman who attended this solitary basket didn't expand on the provenance of his dulces de tamarindo, but judging by the gooey texture — they cling to the wrapper rather than retain their shape — it was clear that these sweets had been made locally, and recently. (Confirmed, on a return visit.) Available in four varieties ($1 each): discs are salty, balls are sweet, red is hot, brown, not. Whichever you favor, mind the seeds.

Tamarind sweets vendor
Near the southwest corner of Fifth Ave. and 49th St. (or thereabouts), Sunset Park, Brooklyn

Malay Restaurant

From out front, it doesn't look like much. Faded letters on the awning still read "New Restorant Malaysia," one of multiple previous incarnations. Larry Reutens, chef of the now-shuttered Masak, called it "dive-y in a good way; he was reminded of home.

Malay Restaurant is my kind of dive, too. I followed the lead of the fellow at the next table and ordered clams chow kuey teow ($7.95), which evinced a respectable amount of wok hei, the fragrance and texture coaxed out by an attentive cook working with high heat. What's more, in response to my request the kuey teow was spicy as served; all too many restaurants will only prepare such dishes mild, at least for obvious non-Malaysians like me, and insist that the customer add hot sauce himself rather than risk that an order might be sent back to the kitchen. True, the deep red paste in that tiny dish did offer additional chile heat, but its primary contribution was fermented-shrimp funk.

Another welcome sign: Malay Restaurant didn't simply trot out a slice or two of orange, or a wrapped mint, after the meal. In late spring, according to the restaurant's Facebook page, oranges gave way to honeydew melons in the spirit of the season. At the time of my meal, in midsummer, honeydew had been supplanted by watermelon; after a spicy meal, it was as sweet as can be.

Previously, from years back: Here and at Curry Leaves down the block, the counters by the register are obscured by containers of kueh, little bites that are eaten throughout the day in Malaysia and Singapore. The item shown at bottom (five for $5) I figured for a pastry topped with some sort of orange icing, but no: That's cheese.

Malay Restaurant
135-17 40th Rd. (Prince-Main Sts.), Flushing, Queens
718-353-2901
www.MalayRestaurantFlushing.com

Mataheko

Garifoto ($10) consists of cassava farina stir-fried with vegetables (here, onions and bell peppers), eggs, and for my order chunks of goat. This rendition didn't rival the attieke at Maima's — another dish based on granulated cassava, albeit fermented — but even so Mataheko deserves further visits, perhaps at a different hour. In early afternoon, I was the sole sitdown customer, and the television in the dining room was cranked up loud enough that Bravo could be heard from the kitchen, where the countergal spent much of her time with the chef. Maybe it's jealousy, but I'd rather focus on my meal, or my book, than on Million Dollar Listing.

Mataheko
144-07 Jamaica Ave. (144th-145th Sts.), Jamaica, Queens
718-739-3980
www.Facebook.com/MatahekoNYC