When You’re Craving One Specific Food

Just as there’s a time and a place for a diner with an eight-page menu of dishes, all executed medium-well, there’s a time and place for a spot that absolutely nails one thing. It’s one of the great pleasures of living in this town — if you’re in the market for a specific bite, there’s likely a person devoting their career to perfecting it.

It feels a bit 19th century to go to a shop(pe) for one thing (the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker) in a way that always delights. So here are a few examples of destinations for just that one thing, done perfectly.

Tofu skins stuffed to the gills

Yubu specializes in a Korean dish I haven’t seen too much of in New York: yubuchobap. They start with the yubu, fried tofu pockets, which are simmered in a sweet dashi-based broth until they’ve plumped up a bit and have a chewy-spongy bite. That pocket makes a vessel for plush, vinegared rice and a slew of toppings. Of the 14 toppings (“fillings” may seem more apt, but they’re all piled at least an inch high), I’m especially fond of the well seasoned torched salmon and the beef bulgogi, but crab people will appreciate the sweet, creamy crabmeat yubuchobap with a drizzle of mayonnaise and punchy, coral specks of pollock roe.

Yubu, multiple locations

A legendary zongzi vendor

For a few months, I sublet an apartment the size of a mousetrap with a handful of roommates, one of whom I never laid eyes on but often heard yelling on the phone through our shared wall. The highlight of those harrowing months was the commute, via the B and D trains at the Grand Street stop, which led me to an icon of Lower Manhattan: the “zongzi lady.” It’s hard to miss her siren song — you’ll hear her announcing “bak chang, bak chang,” the Hokkien term for zongzi, before you see her. For more than a decade, she’s been setting up shop next to the subway entrance after 3 p.m. with a folding chair and a tray of impeccable bamboo-wrapped zongzi. Each of these sticky rice parcels are $2 or $3, my favorites being two of the pork varieties, the simple, soy sauce-laced Shanghai style and the Taiwan style which also has dried shrimp, mushrooms and whole roasted peanuts.

Zongzi vendor, 50 Grand Street (Chrystie Street)