Two possible interpretations for this one.
1) (Summer Version) The mammoth sandwiches clash together, bodies piled on bodies, sweaty, hulking warriors dreaming of a refreshing Valhalla, a land of ice and refreshment. The victors clamber atop the corpses of the fallen, striving to reach the frosty promise of this celestial cooler. Which will you choose to pair with your drink, and grant it eternal glory? 2) (Winter Version). From the firmament descends a creeping glacier, its progress impelled by the frozen will of the Arctic Beverage Gods, pressing down upon this motley crew of refugees, huddling together desperately for warmth. Only the fittest of sandwiches will be save from certain icy doom (or the saddest; that beef patty on the upper left looks like it’s in really bad shape). A bodega for all seasons! Not quite a deli landscape, but this simple mural, spotted in the Bronx, achieves a sort of heavenly luster unmatched by most hectic sandwich collages. Elevated against a beautiful sky blue background, the plated behemoth here floats dream-like atop its bone-white host, its impossibly green lettuce as lush and welcoming as a summer garden. Lotto streamers hint at an even greater transcendence just beyond our grasp, while a bevy of grey stars, squiggles and wind wisps push back against the gray cloud (or unpainted section?) hovering above. As for that tube of sausage, looming in the upper left corner, I am totally stumped.
I do not eat much frozen yogurt, and while I do cohabitate with someone who consumes a fairly reasonable quantity of the stuff, I don’t foresee Fro Yo Landscapes becoming a recurring feature. As a whole, these dispensers of suspiciously low-calorie treats seem to lack the right mixture of flashy personal branding, outsized ambition, and blatant disregard for spatial coherence that marks this city’s best deli tableaux. Consider, then, this to be a seasonal treat. This particular YoGo truck is regularly parked in front of the Brooklyn Museum, and while its pink-hued exterior might paint it as friendlier than the average Mr. Softee, that innocuousness hides a heart as cold as any other frozen-goods purveyor. See also, for more illumination on the dangers of ice cream purchasing, this seven-year-old post from a since-abandoned blog project.
That said, this particular truck has done nothing wrong, aside from a few inspired design flaws. First off, a half-hearted attempt has been made to give the flavors an NYC theme, which range from the reasonable (The SoHo, Brooklyn Bridge) to the puzzling (perhaps unwise to create a flavor association with the fume-choked tube of the Midtown Tunnel), and the irritatingly ingratiating (‘Freedom Tower,’ which is not the official name of One World Trade Center and needs to vamoose before it sticks). None of this really matters, however, since like the specter of eternal winter that awaits dwellers of both Earth and Westeros, a giant, sprinkle-spattered cone looms, already having swallowed the entire leftward section of the truck. Most bodega signs are cluttered, confusing, clashingly coded pieces of art, defined by a helter-skelter approach to food presentation. This, however, is a work of art, presenting a beautifully united front and getting the message with total directness. Layered neatly beneath a clear horizon line, this smorgasbord of sandwiches stands like a gang of beefy-armed bodyguards, ready to back up the bold 'Best Food in the Neighborhood' claim. One sandwich flows into another, avoiding overlap and crowding. The colors are even matched, the stock food images looking genuinely edible. Bonus points for the stacked layout of chips on the shelves inside, furthering the impression of order while subliminally suggesting a partner for all these hefty sandwiches.
A celestial lineup of dancing beverages oversees the wild fray below, a jungle of lunch options with a notable focus on greens. Who is the star here? Where is the primary focal point of this delicious collage? Equivalently focused on its wraps, wings and salad alike, this populist-minded deli refuses to make these choices for you.
The heat is on at Diamond Star Deli on Flatbush Avenue, with this beautiful wraparound sign advertising a fiery grill that I'm reasonably sure does not exist on the premises. More interestingly, the mixture of flames and the surrounding sky-blue background, with a well-done burger-and-coke combo neighbored by a stack of ethereal pancakes, creates a nice heaven and hell dynamic.
Underhill Avenue, Prospect Heights, Brooklyn: A vertically-stretched tableau of fancy foods decorates the exterior of this organic-food-themed deli, ghostly snack apparitions layered over the landscape of an old neighborhood.
|
The coded language of snacks, sandwiches and seasonings, in NYC and beyond.
Archives
February 2022
Categories
All
|