GASTRONORMOUS

With the Hubs working all day last Saturday, the Predicate and I decided to have a girl-only outing to Coney Island; the uncommonly good weather beckoned us out to the surf, sand, and boardwalk. Though there is much that allures at Coney Island (the beach, the skeeball, and of course Nathan’s Famous), I admit that unbeknownst to the Predicate, I went there with singular purpose: to have Italian ices at Ralph’s. My plan of action was to casually suggest we go to Ralph’s directly after disembarking the subway; and then, right before we leave, happen to stroll by again and say something along the lines of “Oh, here we are again. Whaddya know?” I had it all worked out.

On the way to the boardwalk from the subway station we came across this curious contraption outside of a Stillwell Avenue construction area. A kosher hot dog, um, vending machine. The machine is emblazoned with these words: “Kosher Cart, Hot Nosh, Hot Dogs, 24/6; grilled fresh and fast; any time, any where.” 24/6? Cute, but do they really unplug the machine on the shabbat? We sort of stood there for a while, as masses of people walked past on their way to the boardwalk, to see if anyone could resist the lure of a vending machine-produced meat snack. It turns out pretty much everyone can resist it. In fact, a kid who I estimated to be about 8 years old, stopped and looked at it for a moment and said, “Ew! Hot dogs from a vending machine??” Incredulous exclamations continued to issue from the mouth of this discerning child as his mother pulled him away by the arm down Stillwell Avenue.

Most people eat Nathan’s hot dogs, funnel cakes, and french fries when visiting Coney Island. For the more adventurous, there are many purveyors of clams and oysters–fresh, fried, however you want them. To be frank, I really try not to eat when at Coney Island (with the obvious exception of the ices), because most of the vendors there are sort of run down, and, well, I’ll just say it, dirty looking. That doesn’t stop others, obviously. I do love looking at all the shining examples of signage for these food hawkers, as it ranges from old-timey quaint to old-timey bizarre. The Astroland dog-faced hamburger guy (see thumbnail below) is a classic, but my favorite sign, hands down, is the one for a place called The Gyro Corner Clam Bar (go figure). The sign features clams dressed in tops hats and tails, similarly personified clams on the half shell, sitting down at a table for a romantic meal of cocktail sauce and lemons (see thumbnail below), and best of all, a muscle-bound, mustachioed dude grasping a beer in one hand, and coolly spinning a clam on the tip of the finger of his other hand, and exclaiming (or is he being called?), “Hey…Joey!” (which must be pronounced: “Eyh, Joe-EEE!”). Awesome. And also: huh?

After all these distractions, we finally reached Ralph’s Italian Ices, a very temporary tented stand set down on the wooden planks of the boardwalk itself. Ralph’s excels at fruit flavors. I am especially fond of the passion fruit flavor, which has just the right balance of puckery and sweet. I have never had a flavor here I didn’t like. You can’t go wrong with a fruit flavor. And the cookies and cream is truly amazing. The pistachio is great. But on this day I wanted something different. Something refreshing, something…minty. So, the mint chip it was. And boy was it delicious. Same flavors as in a great mint chip ice cream, but with a light, fluffy (yes, fluffy!), melty texture that is cold (natch!) and refreshing but doesn’t slow you down like heavy ice cream can. This was important as we were just getting going on the boardwalk. The Predicate had the spumoni ice, which was a mixture of amaretto, chocolate, and pistachio flavors. The amaretto was definitely dominant and tended to overpower the other players in the scoop. But if you like amaretto, and the Predicate does, then it is a winner.

We then went and hung out on the beach, where we had fun chatting and observing the habits of many loonies that inhabit this place. After finishing my ice, I fleetingly considered getting a heart tattoo with the name “Ralph” inscribed in it. While sunning, we were offered contraband beer (we denied), mango flowers, and churros by people doing their best to pull wheeled carts across the sand. Finally, on that increasingly windy day, we had swallowed enough sand that we decided to head back up the the boardwalk.

We walked over to the pier and watched people catching fish and sooty crabs. The creatures coming out of that New York City water looked primeval, like things that belonged in the Museum of Natural History rather than on a dinner plate. But that, apparently, was where most of these catches were destined. Shudder.

My stomach by this point was a little upset (Not from the ice! Can’t have been! Must have been the sand I ate!), so I gave up on a second round of ices, and the Predicate was none the wiser to my lofty scheme. We walked much of the length of the boardwalk to Brighton Beach, where there are some festive Russian indoor/outdoor restaurants facing the beach. I must make it back some day. But It was getting late. So sunburnt, exhausted, and filled with delicious icy memories, we decided to head home.