I really wasn’t sure what neighborhood lay at the end of the L line, but I figured that everyone would know about it soon enough. After all, the L is like the frontier train of creative cool—Williamsburg became the new Lower East Side, and then Bushwick became the new Williamsburg, so I was off to see what was probably already on it’s way to becoming the new Bushwick.

When I got off at the Canarsie stop and walked a few blocks down Rockaway Parkway, the busiest restaurant I saw was McDonald’s. My Woodlawn odyssey had given me new faith in my orienteering skills, though, so I decided to just wander around for a bit. I kept my eyes peeled for signs of trendiness. Art galleries? Expensive bars? Strange mustaches? Hasids? I saw none of these things.

All playground, all the time.

Jesus est bon, oui?

Here are some of the things I did see: The mammoth Breukelen Houses projects, the offices of congressman Edolphus “Ed” Towns, a sort of elepahant’s graveyard for MTA paraphernalia, the 100% Playground, a place selling “human hair and African movies” and a Jehovah’s Witnesses Kingdom Hall for Francophones.

Almost every restaurant I saw was a chain fast food place, but then I spied Tastee Pattees and realized that maybe it was time to introduce our readership to the phenomenon of the Jamaican patty shop. I’ll be frank: I was a little nervous. I had had only one prior experience with the savory and flaky stuffed pastries, back when I found a shop near our apartment that sold ones full of fake meat. At first I had been delighted with the idea, mostly because it looked like a giant Cheezit. And the first bite had been delicious. The second and third, however, had started to stick in my throat, and by the fourth I had begun to wonder why I was eating something that looked like it was stuffed with cat puke.

So imagine my relief when I walked into Tastee Pattees and realized that they sold much more than just the titular treat. There were lots of sweet things in a bakery case (cassava pudding, carrot cake, coconut rolls, something that looked like slabs of spice cake with big wedges of American cheese on top) and intriguingly-named packaged candies in jars (tamarind balls, gizzada, paradise plums, jackass corn). But most people were ordering Jamaican food from the steam bar, so I decided to follow suit. While I waited in line, I had a nice discussion with the man in front of me about the hominy porridge on offer. I’ve only cooked hominy as a savory addition to scrambled eggs, but my new friend said that this like was cooked with milk and sugar, like oatmeal. It wasn’t bad here, but his own, he assured me, was much better.

I got a big container of tofu and cabbage served on a bed of beans and rice. The sauce was a little sweet for my taste, but the combination of textures made it very satisfying. An elderly woman in line told me it looked healthy and said she would order it next time. Then she gave me a thumbs up.

Okay, so maybe East New York won’t become a dining destination anytime soon. But haters of gentrification should be encouraged that the L train still reaches beyond the “new” Brooklyn. As for me, my faith was renewed that no matter the train stop, a decent meal is never too far away.

Tastee Pattee Bakery and Grill. 1431 Rockaway Parkway, Brooklyn, NY 11236. 718-257-5400.

Want me to take you to lunch? Send your End of the Line suggestions to Submissions@Pitchknives.com.