I want to begin with the assertion that, as violently as it tries to make me despise it, Ma-N-Pop Soul Food has a mysterious grip on me. I've just left what was my fourth visit - each time increasingly more bizarre & absurd than the preceding. M-N-P SF finds itself as the product of a David Lynch movie and MTV's "Boiling Points", ultimately feeling like a very intense drug you've never experienced.
The first visit happened simply as a stumble in. I ate burgers with my man H. and found the place wonderfully endearing - the red & white table cloths, Sam Cooke on the radio, the whole 9. I strangely even delighted in the waitress asking us to come retrieve our food from the counter. It was immediately clear that M-N-P SF catered supremely to my frugal-bordering-on cheap lifestyle, the importance of which probably shouldn't be taken for granted while reading this account.
A few weeks later, I returned with two friends L. & A. from out of town. When we left the consensus was unanimous that we'd never had a stranger waiter; a lanky guy who seemingly had never been to a restaurant before. The food took forever, he often came up to the table asking bizarre questions, or refilling only one of our waters. But the fries were dynamite. Unreal.
Yet, the strange potion that it is, M-N-P SF pulled me back. My friend N. and I went for breakfast and the service was relatively expedient and the food was fine. This waitress, on the other hand, was thoroughly creepy. The other 2 tables were empty at a certain point and she took this time to gaze at us from the counter and ask, "So how did you two meet?". We evaded. When we left, though, she looked at me and winked. What?!
I returned today. Today was next level. I had raved to N. about the fries so we went. There were two other tables occupied, and after sitting there for 10 minutes, the waiter looked at us and said, "you've ordered, right?". To reiterate, there are three tables in this place. He then proceeded to ask the same of the other parties, one of whom had already been served and who were already eating their food... We ordered two cheeseburgers, a piece of cornbread and 2 coffees. The coffees took 15 minutes, the burgers 45. Inexplicably, other people entered, were served, payed and left before we got our food. When the burgers did arrive, they were charred and distinctly bent downward. The cornbread was never served; water never refilled. When I raised my water glass and coffee glass concurrently to signal for more of both, the waiter looked at me and asked, "More milk?". He was also perpetually disappearing, with the incredibly well-meaning but hopelessly inept woman from the kitchen filling in in his stead. We witnessed the adjacent table's entire order go wrong - scrambled for sunny side up, pancakes for waffles, 3 bottles of water brought when they asked for refills of the glasses they were drinking. We didn't tip, and the WMBHI woman (above) hovered over us as we signed the cheque; her prescience seemingly anticipating this end.
Strikes me that my initial assertion needs to be revised: as violently as it tried to make me despise it, Ma-N-Pop Soul Food once had a mysterious grip on me. Its genuinely absurd nature finally was too much to bear. I will never return, scorned lover that I am.
That being said, 7.50 for two cheeseburgers with fries in NYC is nothing to thumb your nose at. read more