I was finally able to stop that guy who rides his bike around Williamsburg with the rainbow parasol, merengue music, and the shiny steel cart hitched to the back. Actually, I didn’t stop him… he was waiting at a red light at S. 4th and Driggs. It turns out he sells Dominican chicharrón for $4 — if you can ever catch him. He uses a giant cleaver to chop the fried pork and serves it on a piece of foil with cassava crackers and lime. I took it home and it was so good. There was more meat than I expected and it wasn’t so crispy that I thought I was going to chip my teeth like at Mariscos Veracruzanos. I have to admit after eating a few pieces I gave in and got out the El Yucateco hot sauce. I’m turning into my cousin, Patrick. He doesn’t eat anything without hot sauce. He actually carries a bottle of Frank’s in his glove compartment.