The opening weekend of "Smorgasburg" in Prospect Park lived up to its New York Times' description as "the Woodstock of eating" if by "Woodstock" you mean "muddy mob scene." As we ascended Breeze Hill, we passed about 70 people waiting on line for some kind of cult French fries. "There's no French fry in the world worth waiting for," groused one passer-by, in a minority opinion.
The "Raindrop Cake" was one of this season's novelties. I have no idea what it is, but it's "Instagram-ready."
My only purchase was a nice little cherry pie from Noble Pies of Warwick, N.Y. and a smooth, intense iced coffee from "Ministry of Kaapi," made from beans from southern India in a novel little filter system.
The lines were so long at almost every stand that you couldn't tell who was waiting for a ramen-burger versus a "calamari cone."
Prickly-pear lemonade was a gorgeous color, but we ditched the whole thing and got some pleasant, if less exotic, fare--and a seat, with little waiting--at the park's own nearby Bluestone Café.
Nearby, ice skaters sailed around the Lakeside rink in the spring sunshine. Other activities underway: hula-hooping; hip-hop/capoeira fusion dancing; drumming; skateboarding; paddleboating; pot-smoking; and somewhere, to judge from the smell of charcoal starter, some early-season grilling.
And just hanging out on the shore, far from the madding crowd.