The best cheap eats in the East Village

Early hype has led to long lines at this East Village pizzeria named after its specialty, a slice covered in a creamy artichoke-and-spinach spread.

Blue Smoke alum Amanda Beame dishes out at Southern classics updated with sustainable ingredients at this homestyle eatery. On the menu: fried free-range chicken, Hudson Valley collard greens and pimento cheese sandwiches. The simple 17-seat space features an L-shaped reclaimed-wood bar and exposed brick.

Surely, there’s no more cultured a substitute for a grilled cheese sandwich than a piping-hot arepa filled with juayanes, a handmade cheese. This endearing spot, with flower-patterned, vinyl-covered tables, zaps you straight to Caracas. The secret is in the arepas themselves: Each patty is made from scratch daily. The pitalike pockets are stuffed
with a choice of 18 fillings, like chicken and avocado or mushrooms with tofu. Top off your snack with a cocada, a thick and creamy milk shake made with freshly grated coconut and cinnamon.

Relive your high-school stoner days, when you were broke and bored and nothing could satisfy those wicked 2am munchies like a hot dog wrapped in bacon and topped with cheese and a fried egg. Crif’s snappy deep-fried or grilled dogs have a cult following among tube-steak aficionados who swarm the joint at all hours for combos like the Spicy Redneck (bacon-wrapped and covered in chili, coleslaw and jalapeños) and the Chihuahua (bacon-wrapped with sour cream and avocado). You’ll also get gooey waffle fries and excellent root-beer floats, and for girls there are Crif-Dog souvenir thong panties, with a giant hot dog on the front that reads “Eat Me.”

If you want to know how good hummus should taste, check out this slender East Village restaurant (there are two more locations, one in the West Village and one on the Upper West Side). We’re particularly fond of the supersmooth traditional hummus. It’s rich enough to be called “vegetarian chopped liver” and comes with a smart selection of condiments including pickles, olives, raw onion and chewy, bubbly pita for scooping.

The sandwich shop has never had it quite so good in New York. The field is crowded with purists and renegades, with star chefs and career-changing amateurs, all devoting themselves to making food fast, cheap and, most importantly, portable—so many new hoagies, cheese steaks, tortas, banh mi and stuffed Chinese buns. Mile End Sandwich, which opened recently near the Bowery on Bond Street, follows the same lofty path paved by ’wichcraft, Saltie and No. 7 Sub, to name just a few of its epicurean forebears. The neon-bright quick-serve operation expands a sandwich program that’s already among the city’s most cultish, building on the opening menu from the first Mile End, across the river on Hoyt Street. The place launched in 2009 as a Montreal-style deli serving smoked-meat sandwiches and Canadian bagels, before adding more ambitious haute juif cuisine. At their new sandwich-centric spin-off, Noah Bernamoff and wife-partner Rae Cohen offer the classics still served at the original restaurant—the same succulent hand-cut Montreal smoked meat on Orwasher’s rye, the same malty bagels (once trucked in from up north, now baked in-house) piled high with glistening lox. But that’s just where it starts. The repertoire here, not constrained by geographic allegiance, looks way past Quebec. There’s a fine turkey sandwich—the Grandpa—featuring French and Yiddish accents, with turkey rillettes, smoked white meat, brown mustard and rye. A Middle Eastern number combines fried eggplant, grilled hal