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A cross section of New Yorkers—Latinos, blue-collar workers, club kids, St. Vincent’s nurses—crowds the lunch counter, ordering items like mondongo (tripe stew), pasteles (banana-and-meat tamales), pig’s feet, goat stew, roasted pork and white beans with chunks of calabaza squash. Servers shout in Spanish, chiding regulars and keeping the busy, down-at-the-heels atmosphere upbeat. Food arrives fast, but you won’t be rushed out.