This was a good week for flacks with Upper West Side food emporiums to sell. Zabar’s got both the broadsheet and the tab (maybe more?) to take the same bait. (Q&A ruled.) And the propaganda catapulter for the book coming soon from my favorite grocer gets mega-points for deftest dodging in describing Bedlam on Broadway. “Memorable” and “incredibly unique experience” would certainly apply to my last expedition — within three minutes of walking in, I had steered an older man in a suit with a shopping list in his hand and wife-fear on his face first to the romaine, then to the arugula, and then I was muscling my way to the portobellos when I heard “move your fucking cart!” and turned to see a Sydney Pollack look-alike in ridiculous shorts waving his fist at a black church lady slowly picking through the onions. Her howling response: “You son of a bitch!” Yep, like no other market.