Do not be fooled by the pastel, easter egg decor, the bars in the windows nor the initial 3 rows of vices: beer, cigarettes and wine coolers. Behind these, past the bums that wandered from the methadone clinic, is everything a neighborhood could need. A dazzling array of dirt cheap bulk spices, every pantry supply you could ever run out of and row after row of culinary oddity you never knew you needed. Hot mango pickle? Check. Fufu flour for Ghanaian food? Check. Mustard Oil (carefully marked "not for human consumption and yet sold on a food shelf and used in every household in Bangledesh). Check. The owners are the sweetest people, even their son who seems unhappy to have to work, will go out of their way to make sure you find everything you need.