Ethinic diversity of South Jersey means plenty of exotic imports...

May 2007

Several months back, I wrote about the multicultural changes suddenly taking place in our once-stodgy region.

Nowhere is this process more evident than on one of Atlantic County’s premier thoroughfares, Ventnor Avenue, traveling north toward Atlantic City.

And what better place to start than with my old friend, talented chef Angel Soto, of Hannah G’s, located just across the Margate line at 7310 Ventnor.

Soto, a native of the world’s largest, and possibly most dangerous metropolis, Mexico City, originally came to this country in the 1980’s as a talented amateur boxer.

In need of a less dangerous vocation, he began his culinary career - still utilizing those athletically gifted hands - at the Brigantine Diner almost twenty years ago.

Since then, he’s turned Hannah’s into one of the best breakfast and lunch spots on Absecon Island.

(We’d recommend you try the sweet potato pancakes, one of Soto’s signature items.)

All while still working nights in some of the best kitchens, including that of Jim Huntzinger, now an Exec Chef with the Trump organization.

Along the way, this Horatio Albert story gets even better. Investing money he earned toiling sweaty double-shifts, Soto has brought a number of his siblings to this country, starting them on the road to a better life as well. For supplies from his homeland, and elsewhere throughout Latin/Central America, one needs only to visit The International Supermarket, a few blocks up the road at 6407 Ventnor.

If you’re a chef, food connoisseur or just plain interested in learning about our southern neighbor’s culture and eating habits, this place is a treasure trove. Rows and rows of fascinating ingredients like Nopal, fresh cut cactus leaves, or one of the many oddshaped tuber/root type products with names like Colombian Nana, Malanga Coco, Batata, and Casaba Yuca.

I spent the better part of a dreary, rainy Tuesday morning wandering their aisles, feeling very much like the late, great Joe Strummer of seminal rock band, The Clash, all lost in the supermarket.

What intrigued us even more are the bags of unusual herbs and spices found on a wall near the back of the store. These obscure plastic packages, which look like something that might well get one detained by a Customs Officer, include Hoya Santa (Saint Leaf), Hierba Bueno (Good Leaf), Epazote, and Halbacar. Chili heads will find an exquisite, exotic collection of oddities.

Peruvian sauces derived from unusual sources like Aji Panco, Rocoto and Aji Amarillo peppers. I even found a tiny, strange jar labeled “Huacatay” or ‘black mint paste,’ for which not even the store’s owner could provide me a culinary application.

Plus, the place offers a real old-fashioned butcher’s shop where individual meats - not prepacked supermarket portions - are sold out of a long, admirably clean glass case. Here you’ll also find unexpected cuts like pork belly and fresh oxtail so desired by country grandmothers and gourmet chefs alike.

Up the street a bit further, at 6412 Ventnor, is Sabor Paisa, a tiny traditional Colombian restaurant and bakery. Meaning “our country’s flavor,” this charming little nook serves up warm, fresh puffy pastries with names like Bunuelos, Pastel de Gloria and Chicharron de Guayava. That last one is most memorable, a big bagel-like pastry filled with a sinful, gooey mix of guava fruit and caramel.

Returning to my car after purchasing a bag full of goodies, their sultry, sweet, scent had permeated the interior of my entire vehicle. Now that’s my idea of New Car Smell.

Sabor Paisa also serves a fullservice Latin American menu, with dishes represented from Cuba, Mexico, Chile, and throughout Central America. As one moves toward Atlantic City, the tone shifts from Latino to Asian, much of those arrivals from Muslim nations like Pakistan. We’re still waiting for a great Afghani restaurant to open here, like Ariana, which we discovered in Philadelphia’s Olde City three or so years ago.

Another Spanish pastry provider, Osirio’s, sits in the shadow of the Atlantic City monument, at 4006 Ventnor. Here, we sampled a marvelous creation the proprietor enthused to us about, which he called “fruit raviolis.”

Filled with strawberry or mango, these hand-size sugary delights are actually closer to calzones in shape and size. With a crisp, textured exterior, and thick, juicy fruit exploding in each bite, we fully appreciate his sense of pride.

Within Atlantic City itself, one is presented with a dizzying plethora of ethnic influences; Vietnamese, Dominican, Puerto Rican, and West African, to mention only a few.

Welcome to the 21st century, Southern New Jersey.

******

The horrific near-fatal Garden State Parkway crash of New Jersey Governor John Corzine rei forces something I wrote in this very publication, over a year ago. That column, distilled down to its essence, could well be summed up as “Speed Kills.”

A former prosecutor, with whom I was once quite well acquainted, informed me that seventy percent of all motor vehicle accidents have a common root cause.

That would be speeding, which reduces reaction time, and forces other drivers to make decisions, possibly life-or-death decisions, in the blink of an eye.

We now are aware that Corzine’s black State Police vehicle was traveling over ninety miles an hour on a busy section of the Parkway, near Galloway Township. For starters, there’s a certain amount of arrogance implicit here.

No one, repeat, no one is so important they have the right to operate a motor vehicle at that high rate of speed. Particularly not in an area typically crowded with motorists.

What was Corzine in such a rush for? Official sources indicate he was hurrying to get to a meeting between now-deposed radio stooge Don Imus and the Rutgers University Women’s Basketball team the former radio personality so cavalierly slurred.

Hardly a serious matter of state.

Worse yet, it was later reported that Corzine rarely wears a seat belt. Guess being a billionaire Governor makes one feel truly indestructible? Imagine the poor sap initially alleged as being “responsible” for Corzine’s accident? All this other driver did was try to get out of the way of the huge black Ford Expedition hurtling down the road like a hellish runaway train in his direction.

And if, God forbid, Corzine had succumbed to his lifethreatening injuries, would the real story behind this ever have been told? Or would that young driver be forever vilified?

This also echoes similar criticisms labeled at another local Governor, Ed Rendell, whose State Police chauffeured-vehicles have been clocked at well over one hundred miles per hour on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, widely reported in Philadelphia newspapers.

For a super achieving Golden Boy like Corzine, this should serve as a sort of wake-up call. We genuinely like the Governor, and think he might be the only Democrat still breathing capable of rescuing New Jersey from it’s current economic calamities. (Excepting the harebrained, short-term notion of selling off public highways and lands, with well deserved tip of cap to fellow Insider columnist Seth Grossman.)

No amount of worldly wealth nor accomplishment nor power will help you when you’ve put yourself in the compromising position of flying down the road at nearly twice the speed limit, without even mentioning the seat belt issue.

Think about this folks, the next time you’re driving, and please, just slow down.

Frank Gabriel may be reached at Thaibasil@AOL.com