America is about diversity and Queens is the most culturally diverse place on the planet. Therefore, it is not surprising that in the midst of Flushing, about the most populous Asian community in this country, you can get a great Italian sausage hero from a Jewish-Irish-French-Greek-Italian.
Matty Rosenzweig (“Just call me American,” he says) took over 14 years ago from his brother, George Athanasopoulos - of course, who manned their spot at the corner of Main Street and 38th Avenue for 10 years before him. Athanasopoulos moved on to operate a diner in Nassau County - another example of the American Dream.
Now Rosenzweig has the “family business,” where he stands from 10:30 a.m. to 8 p.m. every day except Tuesday, dishing delights in his signature blue rubber gloves and dressed in his trademark t-shirt and shin-length shorts in all but the coldest weather.
Okay, it is not exactly a truck, and he serves knishes, hot dogs, and chicken and lamb shish kebab. Nevertheless, being next to a cemetery is the location of choice for the sausage wagons of Queens and just behind an adjacent stone wall is the yard of historic St. George's Episcopal Church, which has been there for 260 years. Sure enough, people are buried there, so we cut Rosenzweig some slack. After all, what is important is the sausage.
Here the sausage is a generous portion, savory with a hint of fennel (very Italian) and a mere $4 - one of the best deals in town. “I'll fill you up for four bucks,” Rosenzweig says, and he is right. He keeps them on the griddle, caressed by the fragrant mound of onions and peppers, and finishes them on the charcoal grill.
There is always a crowd around his wagon, for the food as well as the steady stream of Rosenzweig's gruff good humor. He can banter in several languages, including Chinese, and he can even sign a little.
Rosenzweig has a large cadre of “regulars.” Stop by and order the same thing enough times, and you are one. Nod as you approach and by the time you get within arm's length, it seems like he is handing you “the usual.” Matt resumes running discussions without hesitation, as it also seems like he knows everybody.
The elite regulars get a knuckle-touch for a handshake, because if his palms touch anything but food or utensils (his change-making hand holds the foil or paper, not the product) he changes gloves. Rosenzwieg can go through a score of pairs daily, tossing them at a nearby barrel, which he often misses.
“This way everyone can tell I really change them,” he confides, retrieving two pair off the sidewalk and dropping them in the barrel, before removing the ones he has on, and missing the barrel yet again.
Fill your belly for four bucks - a good deal.
Got a favorite sausage spot? Let me know. I'll be hungry again, eventually.
Even without the truck - great sausage
By Victor G. Mimoni
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