The signs proclaim: “tastier than filet mignon!” Tasty maybe, but since when can cow lips and ears taste better than a choice cut of meat? The signs also don’t tell you about the 880 preservatives it takes to turn those beef renderings into a hot dog, do they? There must be something to the place, though, as patrons seem perfectly content to stand there eating their hot dogs over fly infested trash cans and piles of dirty napkins. If this survey gave scores for decor, Papaya King would score a -1,976. Seriously. Many surveyors were also glad that there is, in fact, only one food item on the menu, as the men who serve the hot dogs have the verbal skills of a retarded orangutan with an arrow through its head. [MF]
179 E 86th St.