On Patrick's one day off this week, we decided to forego laundry and take an excursion to Queens, the most ethnically diverse county in the world. We traveled on the 7 train, also known as the 'international express'. An hour and a half train ride each way to get to a location less than ten miles away, but, hey, that's life in New York.

First stop was almost all the way out (the train goes as far as Flushing) at Corona Plaza. Via googling, Patrick had found out there is a sizeable Mexican population. We were looking for a market he'd read about, but in its place we found a local lunch place, sort of what I consider the Mexican equivalent of a diner (tortas, tacos, quesadillas, very low key family atmosphere). Thank goodness for nice New Yorkers, like the guy who took pity on Patrick and my lack of knowledge of Spanish (he's going to take lessons, but currently we both have kind of Sesame Street vocabulary) and informed us that the woman behind the counter was asking if he wanted his Torta al Bisteck for here or to go. I'll have to let him review the meal, but the homemade tortillas I was watching them make looked awesome.

After that, we wondered around the neighborhood looking for something for me to eat (the place we visited sadly did not have my favorite mushroom tacos) and looking for our long sought after prepared masa (makes tamales more moist). I ended up getting a really yummy coconut roll at a bakery we smelled before we saw it. We didn't find the masa, but we did pick up some strange herbal tea (Flor de Jamaica), some beans that looked like giant, purple lima beans, and this:


It's a molcajete, a lava rock mortar and pestle used to make salsa. And I love the traditional piggy face paint job.

We closed out Corona with Patrick getting some awesome tamales from a woman selling them on the street by the train station. This time the minimal Spanish worked better and he successfully ordered a Salsa Roja tamale and a Mole tamale.

After that it was off to Jackson Heights, where there is not only a Hispanic population but also lots of people from India and South Asia, which meant I could finally get a good vegetarian lunch.

We walked down Roosevelt Ave to Broadway, where we hung a right and were in curry house heaven. After perusing the buffets in the window, I settled on Taj Indian (apparently they have another location on Bleeker). It was awesome. Fresh naan delivered to the table. Amazing pakoras, chana dal, saag with veg, alu gobi. All delicious.

Patrick was full, so he saved what was remaining of his appetite for some sweets from the shop down the street. We shared two delicious pieces of milk fudge (I honestly don't know the names of Indian confections, but they're all very sweet, delicately spicy, and delicious).

We finished our Queens adventure with a stop in Patel Brothers. Imagine your local supermarket, but instead of standard American fare it is an enourmous Indian grocer. So many prepared foods, tons of spices, produce we'd never heard of (jackfruit, a small, oblong variety of coconut, some little green, cyllindrical spiky green vegetable), and a million types of flours specific to Indian breads. We picked up some paratha, cardamom seeds, and some insence apparently indended to be burned "while worshipping God".

Full and sleepy, we wandered off to the F train for our long ride home.

Bonus photo - Mom wanted to see my hair color/cut. A little distorted by the flash, but here you go:
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