Really? A free gift certificate?

(Caveat: This is a cheap shot, but I've been broke and not eating out so I'm digging back into the archives for a classic. And it's a chain.)

Break yourselves fools.

I used to think that Pizzeria Uno was the bomb.com. That is, to say, until one fateful Sunday in 1996.

It all began with a one-knee back in Uptown Minneapolis. Whilst the former old lady was not into smoking she was into buttery crusts. Now, I probably just used to have more of a base palate back in the day but I swear, before they were huge, that Pizzeria Uno used to be grubtastic I can hear the eyeballs collectively rolling around every one's heads here in NY but there you have it, I said it, I used to mack on Uno's. That is to say, until one fateful Sunday in 1997.

I had gone with my favorite, the Spinoccoli, a toothsome combination of spinach, broccoli, and feta, and old old lady was having the sausage. They were the personal pan numbers so they came out hot and fresh, right in the pans. We had each had a piece and were going for a second slice when it happened.

Old old lady was bringing the fateful slice to her plate when she lost control and dropped the slice. It flipped, doing a 180 and landed with a splat on the table. And lo, what should be winking back up at us but a plastic landing strip in the form of a band-aid.

A dirty motherfucking band-aid.

Needless to say it got all Fear Factor at the table toot sweet. I recoiled and spit out my pizza on the plate, took a huge sip off of my Coke, and then gave the cup the stink eye; who's to say there wasn't a damn clot or some shit all jammed in the corner?

Old old lady, immediately started scanning the room for our server. Having detected her a scant 20 yards away, started summoning her. "Miss? Miss? Excuse-me?" The waitress replied that she would be right over, in a semi (understandably) -rude manner. And that's when old old broke her off with the winning hand of all statements whilst in a tete-a-tete with a server, aloud, to the whole room.

"THERE'S A USED (no doubt, I swear she included that crucial bit of gore) BAND-AID STUCK TO THE BOTTOM OF MY PIZZA!"

A collective gasp escaped from the room, straight hoover. The server came over and it was a big freak out. From there on out it was S.O.P. backpedaling. They ended up giving us a bunch of gift certificates. Yeah, thanks for all of that free band-aid flavored pizza.

To this day I can't look at the south street seaport Uno's and not throw up in my mouth. Just a little.

Bubbie's Sauerkr-OW!-t; So Good (for you) It Hurts

It began with a trip to The Queens Health Emporium, a humble place I love because it is a cage-free, organically-raised middle finger to Whole Foods, which only serves the rich jerkbags of Manhattan, who I hate.

My partner, a hippie-dippy love-monger who drives a crystal-laden 30-yr-old van (Om my God, like for real?) buys some all-natural Bubbies Sauerkraut. It's fermented, he says, so much better for you than the kind that is made in vinegar. Let's have some with every meal.

Do you see where this is going? Down my throat, through my stomach, and into my intestines, where the Bubbie burst and unleashed its fury. Pain, endless, searing, gut-wrenching pain. Terrible healthy bacteria, destroyer of duodenum, incinerator of ileum, something negative that begins with J of the jejunum!

Suffice to say, like the Buddha, I will still tell the hot dog cart man to "Make me one with everything." Only now, I will add, "Just hold the Kraut."

Man-Doo's and Don'ts

o Mandoo Bar, you've been on 32nd street for so long, and somehow manage to survive serving thick-skinned dumplings like you would order from the local chinese chicken wing palace. thank goodness we got the joll-myun (another korean cold noodle preparation that tastes like bean sprouts mixed with cabbage, cucumber and go-chu-jang, the bean sprouts being an especially starchy and al dente clear noodle and the whole thing topped with half a hard-boiled egg. not bad) otherwise it would just be dumplings prepared 4 ways; 4 ways badly.

so on the list of Don'ts:

+ don't serve the mandoo soup; looked like a pack of ramen seasoning (the kind that comes with dried egg and seaweed) with 8 thick-skinned dumplings, nothing like a chinese won-ton. my friend ate the meatballs (pork and chive) and left a big pile o' skin on her plate.

+ don't serve the seafood dumplings unless you put actual seafood in. the ones we had (orange thick skin) were filled with a combination of fake crab meat, minced baby shrimp and maybe fishcake. not a go.

+ don't parboil all your dumplings; piled up in tupperware by the window so they develop a nice thick skin, these should be boiled to order and not left to dry.

+ don't charge $8.99 for 10 dumplings when the boiled dumplings at super taste are infinitesimally better, at $3 for a dozen. yes, that is almost 4 times more expensive for a dumplings that has skin which is at least 4 times thicker... wait, so maybe it is a good deal!

+ don't bother coming here for dumplings; if you want good mandoo, just go to the korean-chinese joint 3 blocks north, Hyo Dong Gak. Both their fried and boiled dumplings are amazing; not your typical chinese guo-tie dumplings, but big fat purses of delicious meat, wrapped almost like overstuffed tortellini.

+ don't believe the stagecraft at the front; just because they have a bunch of old korean ladies making them in the window doesn't mean the dumplings are any good. I've had Mrs. T pierogies with a finer skin than these warhorses.

so anyway, that's it; all Don'ts. granted, every culture has their dough-wrapped meat, but if korean mandoo continues to be represented by this place, then ya'll need another representative. otherwise, the samosas and empanadas of the world, the pelmini and the samsa, the gyoza and guo-tie, even the ravioli or agnoletti will kick its ass.