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With its pea-green walls and scuffed tile floors, this modest Polish nook has all the ambience of a mini junior-high-school cafeteria. The service isn’t anything to write home about, either; you’ll likely wait ten minutes before your blonde, heavily accented waitress even brings you a menu. Luckily, there are plenty of visual distractions: Front tables look out over the art-hipster parade of First Avenue, while rear-facing patrons can watch the amusingly heated banter between the short-order cooks and the crew of crotchety, Eastern-Bloc regulars (mostly older men) seated at the back counter. When your food finally arrives, you may quickly forgive Polonia’s other shortcomings—especially if you have a hangover. The clear, broth-like borscht is served hot here, and bobbing with chunks of spicy kielbasa or uszka—small, steamed pork dumplings. Saucer-sized potato pancakes are light and crisp, with just a hint of oniony flavor (you’ll be asked if you want sour cream or applesauce to accompany them; the correct response is both). Best of all are the pan-fried blintzes, whose slightly chewy wrappers and sweet-farmer-cheese filling make them equally suitable for dinner or dessert. — Sarah Gold