The seam of rare edibles doesn't end there, though. Just a few sewing-machine outlets away from the Antique Cafe is the wonderfully inauspicious Milanes (162 West 25th Street; 243-9797). Dwarfed by towering commercial lofts, hidden from view by double-parked trucks, fogged in by the condensation that perpetually mists up its two windowpanes, this Dominican-run coffeehouse-diner will be missed by all -- the Underground Gourmet modestly observes -- save the most inquisitive or discerning.

With just eight tables and a dozen or so counter seats, Milanes has the magical atmosphere of an unself-conscious success. A terrifically friendly, chattering all-woman team (managed by Grecia Milanes) serves up the food with gusto and smarts, and the décor (pink leatherette and metal chairs; a bouquet of red and pink silk roses on each table) has a distinctively feminine prettiness. Which goes a long way toward civilizing the hulking males who largely make up the clientele: cable guys, Spanish-speaking cops, construction workers covered in dust, the odd FIT student, solitary Latino businessmen. All feed in an appreciative silence that contrasts with the hustle and bustle behind the counter. What brings them here is, in the main, dishes of extreme carnivorousness: tripe soup ($2), goat meat (with French fries or Spanish rice and beans, $5), oxtail (ditto), and meat balls (ditto). The tripe soup (mondongo) is perhaps the most challenging of these offerings: a murky, slightly whiffy red pool stocked with vegetables and floating chunks of cow stomach. These chewy strips of fat -- which in texture and appearance are perhaps not entirely dissimilar to strips torn from an old carpet -- give the soup an oiliness that, depending on your taste and constitution, is either an unsavory no-no or an unbeatable stiffener against a cold winter's day.

My boiled goat meat (chivo), served with rice and beans and fried plantain, was properly flaky and entirely satisfactory (leave the cheerless potato-and-avocado salad you may be offered with it). My trio of meatballs were juicy and of a very good consistency, coalescing neatly around vegetable fragments and breaking, when pressurized by a fork, into bite-size pieces: What more could you ask for? Milanes is, in every sense, a real find.

Milanes is open Monday through Saturday 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. Cash only.

There is one spot situated between Milanes and the Antique Cafe so small and secretive it makes these two look like monuments of self-advertisement. Johny's (124 West 25th Street; 243-6230) is a galley diner operated by John Pilapos -- a human whirlwind at the grill -- and his proud father, Larry, who rustles up the specials in the kitchen. Larry ran a restaurant at the Milanes site for 22 years before moving into this crevice, and his know-how shines through in the pizza pitas ($2.95 to $4.25, depending on the topping), which come with a terrific homemade tomato sauce seasoned with garlic, basil, onions, lemon juice, and a touch of tomato paste. Also try the daily specials, which include baked chicken and chicken marsala (with bread; beans; rice, mash, or fries; and vegetable or salad; $5.50). This son-and-father joint is the mother of all holes in the wall.

Johny's serves breakfast and lunch Monday through Friday 7 a.m. to 3 p.m., Saturday 8:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. Cash only.

Related:

• Archive: “The Underground Gourmet”
• Articles by Joseph O'neill
• Table of Contents: January 25, 1999 issue of New York | Subscribe!