Eating In Translation

Roberta's

The only b.s. was in shorthand, on the order slip.

Goat Town

(This venue is closed.) For a scoop of salted caramel pretzel (outdoor market price, $3), I reconsidered my anti-add-ins policy, a safeguard against second-rate ice cream oversugared by third-rate candy. The pretzels, which are folded in on the spot, add a salty exclamation point that seems to draw out even more flavor from the caramel. As long as we're customizing, next time I'll take mine extra-crumbly, please.

Goat Town
511 East 5th St. (Aves. A-B), Manhattan
212-687-3641

Home on 8th

Best use of a dollar while deciding on dinner at the monthlong outdoor Mad Sq. Eats market: housemade shrimp chips. The colors, of course, are just colors; it's all prawn.

Home on 8th
391 Eighth Ave. (29th-30th Sts.), Manhattan
212-947-1420
Also, as the "Hong Kong Street Cart," at Mad Sq. Eats, Worth Sq., near Fifth Ave. and 24th St., daily through June 9

Chock full o' Nuts

Assembled in advance, and stowed in the refrigerated display case — that's cold.

RedFarm Stand

(This venue is closed.) I'm told it stays crisp even after a spell in the fridge.

Hill Country Chicken

No puttin' on airs.

Eataly

This Ligurian frutti di mare pie ($20.00), a September special from Eataly's wood-burning oven, arrived littered with mussels, clams, squid, and shrimp. It was only a minute's work to liberate bivalve meats from shells; the shrimp, in an unaccustomed contrarian role, required no such attention.

Even without the dead weight, the Neapolitan-style "soft and elastic heart" isn't a load-bearing crust, and small slices still required two hands (no knife and fork for me). The firmness of the crust, however, was much less an issue than the flavor: Despite the puffiness of the cornicione, the "fat lip" that's also traditional to Neapolitan pies, the crust as a whole lacked any noticeable yeasty tang.

Eataly
200 Fifth Ave. (23rd-24th Sts.)
646-298-5100
www.NewYork.Eataly.it

Daniele's Piadina

(This venue is closed.) The unleavened, griddled flatbread that folds over Daniele's fillings looks more like a large, crispy tortilla than what I'd generally call a sandwich. Though piadinas hail from Emilia-Romagna, in Northern Italy, I opted for the Napoli version: prosciutto di Parma, mozzarella di bufala, and arugula ($6.75). Moist, dense, ample-enough fillings made do for a light lunch.

Daniele's Piadina
64 West 22nd St. (Fifth-Sixth Aves.)
212-989-1307