Lunch, a la cart

For lunch downtown, some surely crave the burrata ravioli with mint pesto at No. 9 Park. Others would rather have a cheap, steaming bowl of pho in Chinatown. And some probably think: Why sit at all, when the burrito guy's cart is right around the corner?

For a solid work week, I joined that crowd, patronizing as many outdoor food carts and trucks as I could stomach. From a chicken kebab in Downtown Crossing to bahn mi in Chinatown, barbecue in Dorchester, smoothies in Harvard Square, tacos at MIT, and falafel at Longwood, I tried 27 items at 23 places.

Boston is not quite New York, where carts deal out gyros, espresso, and dosa, and it's no Los Angeles, where taco trucks are ubiquitous. But in spots that draw large numbers of hungry workers, students, or both, Boston's purveyors of meals on wheels aim to please. And on my crawl, that's what they did -- for the most part.

Anyone who derides these purveyors as ``roach coaches" should rejoice at the evidence to the contrary. Perhaps it was the preventive post-lunch cocktail s of seltzer, Gas-X, Zantac, and digestive enzymes, but after all that grub, I'm still standing. Moreover, I have a newfound appreciation for a style of dining that lets me indulge in such decent food so quickly and for such little money.

Of course, everything wasn't a gem. Here's how it all went down.

Day one: Downtown Crossing and Boston Common

Even in 100-degree weather, workers, tourists, and high school kids stream along the pedestrian concourses that bracket Macy's and the former Filene's.

On the Summer Street side, at high noon, the lines at Karo's BBQ and Boston's Best Burritos divide mostly according to gender, with women ordering kebabs and men burritos. The nearest place to sit is a table in the roped-off Au Bon Pain area, but all the ones with umbrellas are taken, so after I grab a fresh, hot chicken kebab pocket from Karo's, I park at a table in full sun, among workers reading or talking on cell phones. I return there to poke into a tasty steak burrito from Boston's Best (affiliated with the brick-and-mortar Herrera's Mexican Grill) and some decent Yankee-style chili from Home Plate, operated by the social-service agency Project Place.

On the other side of the Filene's building, dozens of people line up for the delectably famous Chilean sandwiches from Chacarero (which, unfortunately, doesn't qualify for my tour since it's not on wheels). The mustachioed guy running the Star Lemonade cart juices his lemons to order and also roasts nuts, but those are best in theory only. What about the roast coconut advertised here? ``Maybe in October," he says. ``Now it's too hot."

A nearby unnamed cart sells smoothies (dubbed Island Oasis), but they're from a mix. Instead I ask, `` What's your favorite wrap? " Grilled chicken pesto, so that's what I get. When the cook uses a big knife to cut the chicken right on the griddle, it can't get through the meat, which means either a dull blade or tough chicken. Unfortunately for me it isn't the knife.

Back on the Summer Street side, Boston Red Dogs' all-beef regular hot dog (a mere $1.75), is so plump and juicy all it needs is spicy mustard. The next cart over, you'd think the Snow Biz Treats vendor would be fending off a crowd, but no such luck. On this sweltering day, people don't linger. ``Heat is a double-edged knife," he says as he pops a disk of ice into the machine, starts it up, and guides the flakes as they fall into a cup. Topped with cherry syrup, it's the fluffiest snow cone imaginable.

Day two: MIT and Harvard Square

In the east parking lot of the university's West Campus, students and high-tech workers line up at three vendors selling pan-Asian, Middle Eastern, and Mexican food, plus good old subs and pizza. The venerable Goosebeary's is MIA. Instead, I have the tacos of my dreams (soft corn tortillas and spicy chorizo) at Jose's Mexican truck, the lamb shawarma of my nightmares (rotten lettuce) at Jerusalem Cafe, and a huge, crispy slice of pizza (one lone meatball) at Yona's Pizza and Subs, which I take to a partially shaded bench.

Afterward, inside the main entrance of Harvard Square's MBTA station next to Out of Town News, the air is downright swampy and still. Between the lower escalator and the turnstiles, a haven awaits: A cart crammed with fruit is decorated with white lights and photos of fruits and vegetables. I ask Zina Bennani about today's special. ``Mango papaya watermelon with a squeeze of lime," she says. She slices and purees, and when I take a sip, the brightness of the fruit mainlines into my system. She smiles and says, ``To your health."

Day three: Longwood and Harvard Square

Reinforcements in the form of Globe interns help me try three sandwiches from Sami's Wrap 'N Roll, in business since 1979 at the heart of the city's medical community. Unlike most of the carts, which don't slide into position until 11 or 11:30 a.m., Sami's starts up at 6 a.m. weekdays. On this noontime visit, we stand behind two women in scrubs and a paint-splattered construction worker. Hyam Saba interrupts when I rattle off the three-part order: ``Wait a minute," she says. ``I'm going to give you each a separate number." We wait four or five minutes, but it's worth every second, particularly for the crunchy-edged, soft falafel and tangy hummus wrapped in pita.

Across Longwood Avenue, the white Chinese Kitchen truck manages to be out of almost everything. Eggplant chicken? ``No eggplant." Spicy zucchini chicken? Nope. No General Kao's, no spicy peppery chicken, no vegetable lo mein. ``You should come back," advises the man behind me.

No time for that. We find items that we want and they have. One, orange chicken, should be renamed ``water chicken." We go back to Harvard Square for smoothies and juice. We've earned something refreshing.

On the walk back to the car, we stumble on Dudley al Fresco, a swanky cart operated by Harvard's dining services outside Lehman Hall. I order the ``steak sizzler" special, and the grillmaster makes it to order: a juicy piece of meat, peppery and garlicky, over baby spinach with a white bean salad on the side. A high-brow food cart!

Day four: Dorchester, Chinatown, and Boston Common

At M&M Ribs ( a.k.a. Big Moe's BBQ Ribs), in a vacant lot on Geneva Avenue in Dorchester, the smoke rises from grills behind the shiny truck, emblazoned with such slogans as ``You've tried the rest now taste the best." Leona Lambert, daughter of Maurice ``Big Moe" Hill, takes our order for a full rack plus sides. Is she Little Moe? ``That's me," she says. ``His granddaughter is Tiny Moe -- wait, no that's Baby Moe. His grandson is Tiny Moe. They all work the truck."

DISCOVER BOSTON'S FOODCARTS Check out an audio slideshow, an interactive map, and a complete list of Joe Yonan's meals on wheels at www.boston.com/ae/food.

The Moes moved operations here two years ago. Before that, the truck was parked on Columbia Road for 23 years, but developers wanted that lot. Moe himself tells us, ``When you can eat [ribs] without the sauce, that's when you can really tell the difference." I wish I could, but these ribs are swimming in sauce; they're slightly too chewy for my taste, but they're smoky-good, and I'd rather have chewy than the mush that often passes for barbecue. Even better is the moist chicken, sharp mac and cheese, peppery potatoes and onions, and perfect collard greens.

I couldn't find the fabled bahn mi cart of Chinatown on my first try, but we finally hunt it down. On the ground floor of the food court on Beach Street, just off the street, Kim Pham awaits behind the little cart labeled simply ``Saigon." I ask for a bahn mi with everything, and she pulls out a crusty baguette, slashes it open, and slathers on mayonnaise and pate, then lays on pork cold cuts, pickled carrots and onions, and cilantro sprigs. This may be the best $2.50 I've spent all week.

Next to her, an older woman sits behind a cart called ``Chor-Ling" selling what she calls Chinese pancakes made on a paddle-shaped waffle-iron-like device with round grooves. She pulls off the result, which looks like miniature monkey bread and tastes like a cross between a madeleine and a Belgian waffle: not too sweet, puffy, and warm. We trek back to the Common to try Daddy's Fried Dough. Note to self: Never again get ``Boston cream" topping, which has an off-putting chemical taste that ruins the memory of our last meal.

Day five: Harvard Square and MIT

I circle back to find two more carts. On Oxford Street at Harvard, I spot a white and blue Chinese Kitchen truck and recognize it as the same company operating on Longwood Avenue. Would this be better? They're out of Szechuan spicy crispy chicken, but I nab Yushang eggplant with beef. It has big chunks of carrot, tender sliced beef, and slimy (in a good way) eggplant, which just goes to show that a place that does one thing poorly might do another well.

Back at MIT, Goosebeary's is bustling. On this cooler day, the lawn is dotted with people. I'm looking for something on the lighter side (for a change), so I order the mango salad with chicken. They're out. ``But the tofu is good," the woman in the truck says with a smile. ``You like it." Yes, I do.

A few blocks away, I spy two more trucks on Massachusetts Avenue. One of them, Indochine, is connected to Goosebeary's, and I've heard that the woman who runs it has an adept touch with Vietnamese spring rolls. For $3.50, three perfectly delicate rolls, chock full of tofu, mushrooms, noodles, carrots, and mint, come with two containers of peanut sauce, which I spike with extra chili sauce.

There's one cart left: Chang Foods, next to Indochine. I blanch after a single bite of ginger scallion chicken, which tastes, well, off. My heart sinks. How could a tour that included such high points end on such a low? I can't let this happen. I toss the chicken, swig some water, get in the car, and aim it back toward Harvard.

The smoothie guy's there till 10, after all, and I need some juice.

Globe interns Phil Donahue and Maria Fontes contributed to this report. Joe Yonan can be reached at yonan@globe.com.