It’s fairly rare, in this day and age, and on the continental landmass of the Americas, to be present at the official End Of An Era: the death of an ex-tyrant. Especially when, as was the case with former Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet Ugarte, that death occurs at 2:15 PM on a sweltering, feet-dragging dog day Sunday afternoon, only hours after the ex-despot’s crack medical team assured the public that the invalid would be going home within the next five or six days. They were right, in their way.

As anyone who lives in New York and keeps abreast of food fads knows, the intersection of Clinton and Bay by the Red Hook soccer fields is the place to be if you’re a street grub aficionado, and are from Ecuador, Mexico, or 145 Street, or if you pretend ...