You easterners have this apprehension about eating anything called a wrap. You think it’ll make you soft, faggy and somehow align you with California-like forces. It somehow has the wheat germ, oxygen bar connotation that just scares you to death. Well, as a native westerner, I have no fear of the wrap, and have, in fact, been known to go out of my way to find one. This is the motivation behind entering this little hole-in-the-wall joint on 8th Avenue with the ultimate punny name. I ended up ordering some sort of Thai chicken wrap that had parmesan chips in it, and some spicy peanut sauce. It was actually pretty tasty, had a great crunchy texture, and came with free cookies. The place also serves Belgian fries with a bunch of different dipping sauces. They looked and smelled great, but at my age one cone of fries may cost me an angioplasty and at the very least more air in my spare tire. [MF]

692 8th Ave.