The Butcher Block: Not Just for Meatheads

I have lived in the vicinity of my current apartment for nearly a decade, but like any neighborhood in New York City, I find myself constantly discovering new utopias almost weekly, with some literally around the corner. Back in 2003 there was a large fire in the neighborhood that burned down several storefronts and left the skies thick with black smoke. One of the places that burned was the famed "Butcher Block" Irish grocery store and Delicatessen that I had heard about for years, but never ventured into. Jokes abounded that the Butcher Block would be selling well done steaks on special for weeks to come, but being the righteous vegetarian I occasionally am, I thought "one less place selling dead animals, whew." Who knew I would be so wrong.

The Butcher Block reopened soon after at a larger location a block or so away and until two weeks ago I still had not ventured inside. Any place with a large wooden cartoon cut out of a man with a pig in a headlock outside does not necessarily signal "vegetarians welcome." However in an attempt to find some new obscure cheeses in our neighborhood, I suggested to Paul we check the place out to see what they had.

When we walked through the door, I needed to look behind me to double check that I hadn't just stepped off a Tarmac from an Aer Lingus flight. As far as I could tell, we had left Sunnyside and entered Ireland. The entrance of the store is filled with Irish/European candy and chips. I immediately scanned the shelf of Cadbury looking for something I devour in bulk every time I go to Europe, the elusive Bourneville bar.

Only distributed in Europe, this is the ultimate bar of dark chocolate one could ask for, and let me just say I've sampled a few. Cadbury has a "Royal Dark" bar they sell in America, but if you look at the back you will see it is made by Hershey and tastes like a watered down, sugared up, larger version of the real thing. In the past I have relied on European friends and a distributor Paul found online to occasionally get these treats. As Paul can testify, the minute we get off the plane in Europe I head to a drug store to buy some of these bars that literally leave me speechless.

I scan to the left, nothing. To the right, nothing. Then I look straight ahead and see an entire box of them just sitting there, European wrapper and all. Dramatic music cued up and credits rolled as The Bourneville Supremecy started up featuring me as the leading lady. I turned to Paul, and like Dorothy learning that all she had to do was click her heels to get what she want at the end of the Wizard of Oz, I said "I've had the power all along!" They were RIGHT HERE!!!

Paul wasn't listening to me though, as he too had discovered a plethora of his European dream foods, chewy candy without gelatin in them (gelatin's a vegetarian, no no) and enough different flavored chips to sink the island of Manhattan. While my weakness is chocolate, Paul is a big chip fan, and if you ever want experience a wide variety of chips lets just say the English and Irish have cornered the market.

There were bags of crisps in every style and taste imaginable. I look in Paul's arms and said, "Ummm are you buying Barbequed Chicken flavored potato chips?" He said, "Yeah, look at the bag it says suitable for vegetarians!" I looked and saw that these chicken chips were made with the use of "Flavourings" so how one attains chicken flavour without actually involving a chicken, is kinda beyond me, but he was enamored. They had steak chips, vinegar, salt, literally things you would never actually consider putting in a potato chip are available at this store. After trying the chicken chips, Paul does report that one shouldn't, perhaps, try to make potatoes taste like poultry as they were less than stellar.

We continued to roam finding all the products we adored while in Ireland. I think one of the most interesting things to do in another country is simply roam around the supermarket and look at all the cool packaging and options available elsewhere. The ability to do this in my very own neighborhood was something I was kicking myself for not discovering earlier.

Now I don't want to give the impression that the Butcher Block is some sort of vegetarian paradise. There is indeed more meat there than one can fathom, but my mind was so ecstatic about the Bourneville finding that I completely ignored that. We left the store and it's Irish accents behind and like I always do when getting my first Bourneville in Europe I rip open the package and pull out a little square like a heroine addict getting a fix. Paul asked, his mouth full of chewy gelatin-free candy, "Is it good?" and I raised my arm to tell him to stop speaking, this chocolate is so good it leaves me SPEECHLESS.

I still can't believe it has taken me this long to discover the magic of The Butcher Block, but since it did burn down once before I am savoring the Bourneville bars as if they are a secret stash smuggled directly from Ireland. I may be able to now get my supply without a passport, but I'm not taking any chances!