…particular family brunch nearly a decade ago at a swanky new eatery on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. After menus were passed around the dining table, one of my cousins from Brownsville — the most impoverished and crime-infested section of Brooklyn — leaned into me and asked, “What are the numbers next to the food? Initially, I thought they were joking. Then it hit me like a Nate Robinson opponent. They couldn’t recognize the prices because the numbers were void of dollar signs. I then flashed back to how their entire house ate since we were babies. They rarely, if ever, ate o…