Finger Foodies

Bring lots of dollar bills! The most expensive item is $4, and it's all doggy bag?size." So instructed New York Press beer columnist Joshua M. Bernstein. He'd proposed "a crazy vegetarian lunch crawl" along Nostrand Avenue, in the borderland between Prospect Heights and Crown Heights, and I'd eagerly accepted.

So on an early October day that recalled the depths of August, I took the 3 Train to Eastern Parkway and met Josh and his roommate Cory, a server at the East Village vegetarian restaurant Counter, at their nearby home. On exiting the train, the Brooklyn Museum looms, and its fountain kicks feathery plumes of spray high into the air; they peak, plunge back to their pool and start the cycle anew. The Botanic Gardens are a mere block further. It's not a short train ride from Manhattan, but it certainly isn't so far to excuse my not having explored these parts in at least 24 months. Then again, I didn't realize that a world of alluring hot comestibles was only a few blocks away.

The vegetarian options along the Nostrand Avenue corridor stretch farther than the eye can see. Every other awning, it seems, is emblazoned with the word "vegetarian," marking spaces that range from six-foot-wide holes-in-the-wall to sit-down lunch spots. (Come early; this kingdom of veg is decidedly lunch-oriented.) Most every variety of Caribbean cuisine is represented-good news for vegans, as dairy rarely makes an appearance. As we stand on a corner and peer down the street, cruise director Bernstein lays out the agenda: doubles, roti, tofu patties and maybe an aloo pie.

Our first stop is Natural Mystic (740 Nostrand Ave. at Park Pl., 718-953-4560), where an assortment of patties beckons, hot and fresh, from a case near the window. "What are the patties today?" Josh asks the man behind the counter. Out of fish or soy, we choose the latter, and $2 or so later we're back on the street, passing around a savory turnover: a crisp shell encasing steaming a thick, mild stew that's probably based in TVP (textured vegetable protein). Next on the list is Trinidad Golden Palace (788 Nostrand at St. Johns, 718-735-7065). It's a bright storefront with a bakery case bursting with scones and golden loaves of bread. Bernstein procures a double for us, and we head back outside.

This was new to me. Hot flatbread slathered with chickpea stew, a double is rolled into a drippy, delightful wrap. As Cory passes the bundle to me, the bottom starts to fall out, so I take matters into my mouth-and realize that I've also swallowed the bulk of the hot sauce. In the moments before my tender flesh erupts into flame, I enthuse over the melding of my favorite bean and its spongy envelope (a bread not unlike Ethiopian teff).

The day is fast becoming a blur. We score another soy patty from Original Vegetarian (752 Nostrand Ave., 718-788-6660). This one's golden shell showers our hands and shoes with pastry flakes; it's chewy, crusty, perfect. As we continue down Nostrand, Josh points out another hallmark of the avenue: its murals. There's the series from "Mom's Basement," which explores destructive black male archetypes from multiple nations. A sign implores viewers not to judge what they see before viewing the other murals in Mom's Basement, but Josh says it's never open. Another mural, doubling as an advertisement for a local dentist, booms, "We cater to cowards!"

We decide to sit when we reach Imhotep (743 Nostrand Ave., 718-493-2395), where the famed hot deli is tucked in the back of a pristine, well-stocked health food store. My feet are tired, but the decision to stay has more to do with the madness that would result if we attempted a communal sidewalk nosh of the giant roti. We choose soy ribs and a pumpkin stew to fill the roti; I find the bread itself to have a slight fridge taste, but the fillings are phenomenal. So much looks good-the okra, tofu sheets, collards, and layer cake doused in coconut-but we have one more stop.

Inside the Royal Bakery & Roti House (618 Nostrand Ave. betw. Pacific & Dean, 718-604-0200), a sign promises, "Trinidadian Chinese and hot roti, all in one place." Josh takes care of ordering an aloo pie and a peanut shake, while I size up the baked goods, eventually deciding on a slice of currant roll, a pleasing flaky pastry that resembles strudel. The pie is a variation on the day's theme of hot, saucy vegetables in a savory shell. As for the peanut shake, it's addictively sweet-and unfortunately not vegan.

Then comes the breaking point. The three of us look at each other, and we look at the last hunk of veggie pie. Bernstein asks me, "Can you finish it?" I shake my head regretfully. He turns to Cory: "Can you?" He shudders. "Dude, I'm done." So I take the logical next step and raise the remaining brown bag. "Who wants dessert?"