Write in Delis in Philly and Jersey
Monday, April 7th, 2008I realized this week that it was just over a year ago when I finished my deli journey around the United States. In two months, and over 10,000 miles, I drove from Toronto to Los Angeles, over to Miami, and back home, hitting as many delis as I could along the way. I probably went to over 200 delis, though I’ve yet to formally count them all. I had very little free time, drove like mad, and ate like a fiend. But even then, I missed quite a lot. Geography deprived me of delis in Minnesota and the Pacific Northwest. And in the end, with Passover approaching, I had to cut the trip short and head back home straight from DC. So I missed out on several key deli markets, including Baltimore, Philadelphia, New Jersey and Boston. (more…)
Save the Deli Seattle correspondent report: I Love New York Deli
Tuesday, January 22nd, 2008
I wish I could get to every single deli in the world, I truly do, but geography, time, and sweet moolah prevent me from doing so. Yet, in the past year, since launching Save the Deli, I’ve heard from hundreds of deli fans around the world, who share with me their recommendations, tips, images, and stories (plus the occasional kvetch), about the deli world. I have to say that without your help, I’d know a hell of a lot less.
And so it was with David Cowles, a Washington state deli fan who has an obvious passion for this food, but for years has been bemoaning the lack of true deli in the Pacific Northwest. After all, the wet, cool climate is salmon country, and is almost as far from LA as it is from Chicago. It’s the last deli frontier in America, and the last place many would go looking for anything on rye…let alone rye!
(more…)
London: On Her Majesty’s Salt Beef Service
Sunday, November 18th, 2007
B&K Salt Beef Bar, London, England, Great Britain
‘Allo ‘allo then! What ‘ave we ‘ere? A lovely bit of salt beef guvnah? Smashing.
Yes, my Britishisms are awful when written down, but you should hear my faux Cockney accent these days. Straight out of Dickens, or some Michael Caine flick.
That’s right my lovelies, I’ve finally returned from London, the seat of HRH’s empire, where salt beef rules the waves, hand carved in several select locations around town.
First, you should all know what salt beef is. Salt beef is corned beef. The same thing…different name. In fact, the corn in corned beef refers to “corns” or kernels of salt, and the only corn that comes near salt beef in the United States, it that which is force fed to the cattle in feedlots. British salt beef, by comparison, comes from grass fed cattle, who roam the lush pastures of the British Isles munching away happily.
Now, while the UK has a dubious reputation as a place to eat…the land of grey, lifeless, spiceless dishes…I’m happy to report that the delicatessen is excellent. The salt beef is almost always barrel cured, sometimes for as long as three weeks, and has a mild, brackish flavor that tastes of the sea. The tongue, sliced from the Ox, is the best I have had anywhere, thick, hand carved luxurious rounds of fatty meat that is absolutely decadent and incredible. There’s fantastic chopped liver (served with chopped egg and onion), killer matzo ball and kreplach soups, and squares of splendid lokshen pudding. The mustard is all hot, as in fiery Dijon type spice, and when you slather it on as I do, you’re in for a wasabi style sinus clearing.
Now, I could go on about the deli men I met, or the differences in the evolution of the deli in London. I could rip into the rye bread, which is beyond terrible, and lacks any rye qualities whatsoever, but I won’t. It’s Sunday, I’ve been working for the whole afternoon, and I have a movie to catch. So I’ll just present this little film below and leave you all to hit play. Check out the photos of the foods, see the addresses below, and buy a cheap ticket over the pond to visit Ole Blighty. There’s some quality deli waiting for you.
Cheerio!
The delis
(International calls are +44)
Britain’s First and Best Beigel Shop
155 Brick Lane, Spitalfields
London, E1 6SB
020 7729 0826
Brick Lane Beigel Bake
159 Brick Lane, Tower Hamlets
London, E1 6SB
020 7729 0616
*Both of these are 24 hr places in the old Jewish section of town, now a mix between Bangledeshi gangland and hipster heaven. Not kosher, or even remotely kosher style, but you can get a salt beef sandwich or on a beigel for cheaper than a pint…after a few pints. So go on, get mashed up like Amy Winehouse and soak it up with some meat.
B & K Salt Beef Bar Map
11 Hanson House Whitchurch Lane
London, HA8 6NL
020 8952 8204
*John Georgiou is the meanest, leanest deli man in London. He’s the son of a great deli man, and now raises younger deli men. He carves like a surgeon, and his salt beef is absolutely the most gorgeous stuff you can pay for.
Bloom’s Restaurant
130 Golders Green Road
London NW11 8HB
020 8455 1338
New! 313 Hale Lane,
Edgware, Middx HA8 7AX
020 8958 2229
*For years, Bloom’s was the top kosher deli in the old East End. The original closed a decade back, but the second location, in the heavily Jewish Golder’s Green, is still kicking and tastes even better after a recent renovation.
The Brass Rail Salt Beef Bar
400 Oxford Street
London, W1A 1AB, UK
+44 800 123400
*The Brass Rail is an institution, located in the food hall of Selfridge’s, the second ritziest department store in London. You can have a lovely salt beef or tongue, then go off and buy a $500 truffle or a $12,000 Gucci bag. Only for discerning tastes.
Reuben’s
79 Baker Street, W1U 6RG
Marylebone
020 7486 0035
*Once upon a time, Reuben’s was part of the Reuben’s chain from Montreal and Toronto, but it has been kosher, and wonderfully run by the Hassan family for many years now. The son, Tam Hassan is a fantastic chef, and has elevated kosher deli to new heights. The chicken soup is so yellow and schmaltzy, you could be eating butter.
Harry Morgan
29-31 St Johns Wood High Street
London NW8
Tel: 020 7722 1869
Plus several other locations
*Harry Morgan’s, or “Harry’s”, is the deli where high end London and working Jewish London meet. On a given Saturday, when the lunch line can erupt into fistfights, you could find old pensioners sitting next to George Michael or Roman Abramovich. Everything is top quality and made fresh, including stellar tongue, fantastic chicken soup, and even p’tcha, the calf’s food jelly I’ve only seen in France. Plus, you can buy the cool dishes with the words of Jewish food written on them.
Also, those wishing to see Jewish London’s past should book a tour with Clive Bettington, of the Jewish East End Celebration Society.
Check them out at www.jeecs.org.uk
Krakow’s edible revival
Thursday, November 8th, 2007
Dzien Dobry!
That’s hello in Polish for those of you who don’t know, like me, until sometime this afternoon.
I’ve been in Krakow since yesterday, and suffice to say that it is quite the experience for anyone remotely interested in Jewish identity and culture. Once a thriving community of 65,000 Jews, 90% were killed in the early years of the Holocaust, with only a few hundred remaining in the city today. Communism drove the community underground, with many Krakow Jews losing their identity through intermarriage or simply a self-imposed denial. Food, once the bedrock of the Jewish world here in the land known as Galicia, dissapeared from the Jewish plate, as communism’s restrictions and the lack of kosher supplies rendered the dishes of eight centuries a mystery.
Such has been the story all over Eastern Europe: Hungary, Romania, Ukraine, Lithuania, Russia, in the lands where the shtetl was once vibrant, and the Ashkenazi cuisine formed the bedrock of what we eat each time we visit the delicatessen. In these places, all that remains of Jewish identity are the skeletons of synagogues and cemetaries. But Krakow was different. As the intellectual hub of Poland, the tail end of communism sparked an interest in Jewish culture and history…from gentile Poles. Since the Holocaust the Jewish past was buried, and they decided to bring it alive, celebrating the Jewish contribution to Polish history and culture as an expression of their own individuality.
What started as a small film festival in 1988, blossomed into a Jewish cultural festival, with concerts, lectures, and art exhibitions. Art galleries and small restaurants emerged, serving the foods that the Jewish community once ate (the recipes were provided by the few surviving members and old cookbooks). When Steven Spielburg filmed Schindler’s List here in 1993, it set off a tourist bonanza, that has brought millions to the Jewish quarter here, known as Kazimierz. Money from the visits, and international donations have funded the cultural festival, the restoration of several synagogues, and museums.
But this is a blog about food, so I’ll jump to that. When the area was rebuilt, preserving and expanding on the Jewish heritage, several restaurants emerged that served Jewish food. Most were owned and operated by Christian Poles (as are most of the Jewish museums and institutions here), with foods that were typical of Galician Jewish cooking. What’s amazing is that these are foods that provided the basis for the Jewish American Delicatessen, yet would never be found in any deli on that continent. It is historic cooking, and short of picking up a cookbook, the best way to experience deli’s roots.
The first place I visited was called Ariel, though it must be said that all of these restaurants have similar menus. This was the first of the Jewish restaurants, but it is also the most tourist oriented and extremely tacky…to the point of being offensive. There’s live klezmer every night (as in all these restaurants), but Ariel also sells Jewish trinkets, including little figures of Hassic Jews holding bags of money. Supposedly Poles find them to be good luck. It’s straight out of Borat.
At Ariel I had two things:
Berdytchov soup: This is a local soup from a nearby town, which is basically a honey and cinnamon beef based borscht, minus the beets. Imagine sweet and sour cabbage soup, with cubed potatoes and carrots, little bits of brisket (very little), and a taste that mixes tomatoes and baked apples. Sweet is an understatement, although the Polish Jewish taste always had a proclivity toward sweet.
Stuffed pipkes: Once upon a time, goose and duck were the protein of the Jewish diet. Chicken was leaner, and less desired, and beef was very rare in the shtetl. But oh, the joys of a fatty goose. Pipkes are a classic dish, which involve stuffing the skin of a goose neck with a mixture of chopped chicken liver and little tiny bits of dough. The neck is then closed, and the whole thing is fried, emerging as a crisp, golden, shell of fat with warm, oozing chopped liver on the inside. Light it ain’t. I never imagined something that could make chopped liver seem like diet food, but this is so rich in fat, it’s like the poutine of Jewish food. Still, when fried perfectly (one was overdone and gamey), it is a blessing…imagine crisp chicken skin wrapping sumptuous, creamy chopped liver with little buds of dough. It reminded me of fried haggis…but that’s not a comparison many of you will know.
Today I had a whirlwind of eats.
Started off by bumping into a baigel vendor on the street. No, it’s not spelled wrong. They call them baigels here. Your morning nosh was invented in Krakow, possibly 400 years ago, by Jewish bakers. And though Jews don’t bake them, the round bread has found its way into Polish cuisine, so that it’s sold on every street corner by little women in carts. They’re more like pretzels here, thinner, and with a bigger hole, but as one Jewish survivor told me, the Jewish versions were actually even more thin. How did it taste? Like a bagel. The crust was super crisp, and it was twisted (like those of Montreal), but the inside was light, sweet, and dense, like those in New York. Best of all, you could get salt, poppy seed, or sesame seed flavored.
In fact, there’s a New York bagel place here called Bagelmama, which was opened by an American a few years back. His bagels are more the shape one finds back home (smaller hole, more surface, less crunch), and he does them up with cream cheese and all the trimmings. I have to say, his are better than most of the bagels I’ve had in LA, or Chicago, or other areas of the hinterlands.
For lunch I hit up Alef, which recently moved from the Jewish area, close by to a new hotel. Rather than play up the whole shtetl kitch angle, the new dining room is surprisingly refined and tasteful. So too is the food.
The kreplach soup I had was possibly the best ever. The chicken broth was dark and heavily flavored with onion, while the meat inside the perfecly pinched little pockets of dough, was garlicky and extremely tender.
What really won me over at Alef was the pate of goose liver, which was basically a terrine of cooked goose liver (not fattened like foie gras), that reminded me of a gamier meat loaf. It was surprisingly light and soft, and it came with the most amazing horseradish chrein sauce that was creamy, sweet, and fiery (in that succession). Rather than play up on the Jewish imagery, they focused on the food and elevated it to a higher place.
Belly bursting, I’ve now just arrived from dinner at Klezmer Hois, the largest of the Jewish themed restaurants here in Krakow. Housed in an old mikvah, it is definitely a nostalgic place, though the focus is on the music and creating that bohemian atmosphere. A very good band played classic Jewish and klezmer songs with mixed enthusiasm.
I tried two absolute classic Galician dishes:
-Carp Jewish Style: this is cold, cooked carp buried in a thick, sweet jelly with slivered almonds. It is actually eaten by Poles every Christmas and very typical to the area. All I can say is…interesting. Acquired taste for sure. More like fish jello. Probably a good reason so few delicatessens carry this.
-Cholent: the traditional sabbath stew that slow cooks overnight. A mixture of meat, beans, vegetables and potatoes. It’s meant to be eaten and then slept upon, to fully enjoy the sabbath rest. Imagine the thickest beef stew you’ve ever encountered, then add in tons of starch and protein and cook until it’s a paste. The flavor is mild, and rather appealing, but it now lives in my gut for a good few years.
Anyway, the cholent is begging me to sleep, and I have a big day tomorrow…Auschwitz and then off to London. So I’ll leave it here. But I will say the following…
Most Jews think of Poland as the place where Jews died. But for 800 years it was a place where they lived, loved, worked, thought, studied, prayed, and ate. The foods we love at the deli came from here, with much influence from Polish life. Don’t judge Poland on what the Nazis did. Yes, there exists some anti-Semitism, but the renaissance of Jewish culture here, brought to life by non-Jews, is astounding and must be seen to be believed. Open your heart as they opened theirs.
Links:
Montreal: May the Schwartz be With You (guest appearance by Alan Dershowitz)
Friday, June 22nd, 2007
In the past year, as you can all see, I’ve visited hundreds of Jewish delis. I’ve been to massive places in suburban Detroit, classic diners in Beverly Hills, family favorites in Florida, and kosher classics in New York. I’ve eaten at Katz’s, Carnegie, Stage and Langer’s, Zingerman’s, Manny’s, Canter’s, and the Rascal House. I have had amazing sandwiches and been awed by the atmosphere, but I can not and will not compare these places to Schwartz’s.
It would simply be unfair.
Montreal’s Suburban Trio: Chenoy’s, Abie’s, Deli St. Laurent
Wednesday, June 13th, 2007Laziness and a sense of artistic creativity have compelled me to compile three delis that I saw in one day into this little video clip. It’s pretty self-explanatory, though I really do reccomend all these places. Each had something to surprise me, like the crisp, airy latkes at Chenoy’s, the succulent smoked meat and Romanian karnatzel (which tastes of spongy garlic infused charcoal kissed beef) from Abie’s, and the club roll at Deli St. Laurent, a new discovery and timeless gem.
Coordinates:
Chenoy’s Delicatessen
3616 ST JEAN BD, DOLLARD-DES-ORMEAUX, QC
(514) 620-2584
Abie’s Smoked Meat
3980, St. Jean Boulevard, Dollard Des Ormeaux, Quebec
(514) 626-ABIE (2243)
www.abiesmokedmeat.com
Restaurant St. Laurent Deli
2073 St. Louis, Ville St. Laurent, Quebec
(514) 744-4113
Bridging the Toronto-Montreal divide: Snowdon Deli and Centre St. Deli
Tuesday, June 12th, 2007Today is my father’s 60th birthday, and last night we feasted on the deli that I brought back from Montreal. Part of the care package included a box of poppy seed mohn cookies from Snowdon Deli (or Deli Snowdon as the language police call it). A year ago I was in Montreal and my father sent me a text message:
“David- pck up mohn cookies from snowdon they are thinner than centre st. xoxo Dad”
Allow me to explain. Montreal’s Snowdon Deli and Toronto’s Centre Street Deli are family. A bit of history:
Snowdon deli began in 1946 by brothers Abe and Joe Morantz, in the middle class Jewish neighborhood of Snowdon in Montreal. Over the years, Snowdon grew into one of the most beloved delis in the city. In a town where most delis offered the choice of either smoked meat or steak, Snowdon featured an expansive menu that ran the gamut from hot and cold deli sandwiches to excellent baked goods to appetizing and party sandwiches. It was blocks away from my grandparent’s apartment, and was a frequent fixture on all my childhood visits to Montreal. Abe’s son Ian Morantz now owns the place along with longtime counterman John Agelopoulos.
Ian Morantz, with brisket, at Snowdon Deli, in Montreal
Centre Street Deli was what happened when Cheryl Morantz, the daughter of Joe, moved to Toronto in the early 1980’s and noticed the need for a great Montreal style deli. Hundreds of thousands of Montrealers had moved to the city since the late 1960’s, fleeing economic uncertainty and political instability. Their craving for a smoked meat sandwich remained strong, and Cheryl saw the chance to do something. Her father sent out his top counterman, Sam Agelopoulos, John’s brother, to run the place with her…putting a Morantz and Agelopoulos at the helm in each city.
Sam and Cheryl at Centre Street Deli, in Toronto
Go into Centre Street deli on a Sunday and see the Montreal diaspora in action, pigging out on their hometown favorites like old fashioned, hand cut smoked meat (the best outside of Montreal), thin karnatzel salamis, mohn cookies (slightly thicker than those in Montreal), and cheese bageleh. The fries are made Montreal style as well, blanched first and then fried again, to achieve a crisp, airy brown texture. Pure heaven. So many places throughout Canada claim to be reputable Montreal style delis, but Centre Street is the only one that does it successfully. Their hand cut smoked meat is as good as the stuff five hours east. Mom never ate smoked meat, even though she grew up blocks away from Snowdon Deli. It was only when I began this blog in February that she took a trip to Centre Street with my brother and caved in. Better late than never.
Here’s a wonderful cup of matzo ball soup, slightly smaller than its Montreal cousin (below), but every bit as rich and soul stirring.
Watch as Dad demonstrates how to properly eat karnatzel, and then dives into his favorite combo: Stuffed Chicken (read about it below) and Smoked Meat (old fashioned-medium fat)
Over the years, Centre Street Deli has expanded and moved locations to accomodate demand. It is big, bright, and evocative of New York style delis, with its bright lights, checkered tiles, and funny murals on the wall.
Snowdon Deli has remained largely unchanged. It rests on the same block, atop a narrow sidewalk, next to a traffic choked road, by a sunken expressway. The Jewish shops along the street have gone, including the bakery, but the place is a temple. It is quiet and dim, the perfect ambiance for slurping back a wonderful bowl of bright matzo ball soup on a cold winter night. The long deli counter is a place to chat and joke with Ian, John and Jimmy, as well as Ian’s daughter Tobi, who has been working there full time.
The food is the draw, and Snowdon excells in every single area. In her book “Tender at the Bone”, former New York Times critic and Gourmet magazine editor Ruth Reichel recalled her experience at Snowdon Deli, when she was a young girl banished by her parents to a French boarding school blocks away. One day she snuck away from school and found herself at the deli, where she walked up to the counterman and inquired about the glistening pink meat she saw. Here’s her description:
“He set it on a wooden counter and began to carve, letting the rosy slices fall away from his knife in ribbons. he scooped them onto a piece of rye bread, slapped a mustard-slatered slice on top, and handed the sandwich accross the counter. The sweet, salty pile of meat was the best thing I had ever eaten.”
That’s right…the greatest food writer in America today owes it all to a smoked meat sandwich from Snowdon deli. When I interviewed Ruth Reichel in New York last fall, she still remembers it fondly, and went back to Montreal a few years back to revisit the deli.
My favorites at Deli Snowdon are the following…influenced largely by my parents.
Varenikas: think knish without the baking…a soft dough dumpling filled with mashed potato, often fried or just as easily steamed, it should always be served by a minor mountain of fried onions.
Cheese Bageleh: very Montreal and truly Snowdon. Small sweet pastries filled with a firm cheese…like a blintz meets a knish, but small enough to pop in your mouth for a few hot, heavenly bites. Best with sour cream, apple sauce, or cherry sauce.
Matzo Ball Soup: as great a deli town as Montreal is, there is a serious lack of matzo ball soup. When the mercury literally freezes, and you get back from a cold day skiing in Tremblant, it’s nice to know that is is waiting.
Stuffed chicken: I’ve never seen this anywhere but Montreal, except Centre Street. Ian Morantz said it was once minced chicken stuffed into a sewn up chicken skin. Now the casing is collagen, but it is essentially chicken balogna and is a cool, savory alternative to often blander turkey. With a ton of mustard, how can you go wrong?
Danish: need I write anything? truly? I think not.
Mohn Cookies: mohn is yiddish for poppy seeds, and these wafer thin little numbers are best accompanied by a pot of Earl Grey tea, a good friend, and lots of kibbitz. Dunk to your heart’s content, there is no finer, and yes Dad, they are thinner in Montreal.
Two cities, two delis, two families, both filled with love. Visit them both. Often.
Centre Street Deli
1136 Centre St.
Thornhill, Ontario (30 mins north of Toronto)
905-731-8037
www.centrestreetdeli.com
Snowdon Deli (aka Deli Snowdon)
5265 Decarie Blvd
Montreal, Quebec
514-488-9129
www.snowdondeli.ca
Montreal Jour 3: Smoked Meat Pete
Friday, June 8th, 2007One place in Montreal that I’ve heard much about and yet had never previously visited was Smoked Meat Pete’s. I’d heard the name, I’d heard it was far from the center of Montreal, I’d heard the food was supposedly outstanding. I’d even heard the tasty and tasteless motto: “You can’t beat Pete’s meat”
We’ll leave that up to Pete.
Anyway, yesterday night I tossed my buddy Ben Leszcz in the car and we headed off the western tip of the island of Montreal onto Ile Perrot, some 20 plus kilometers out of town. There, behind a vintage Dairy Queen, sat Smoked Meat Pete, the unlikliest place to encounter great deli.
Inside a blues band was plucking away, singing about heart attacks (from women and chopped liver) and heartbreak. The air hung thick with BBQ smoke, and the wagon wheels and worn wooden benches made it feel like a rib joint, which it partly is. After ordering and paying at the cash, we waited for the meat to come and listened to the tunes.
The place had serious promise, likely because Peter Varvaro Jr. is the son of Peter Varvaro, the owner of the Main Deli, directly accross from Schwartz’s on St. Laurent (aka the Main blvd). With decades in the smoked meat business, the younger Pete decided to set off on his own a decade ago, and the result has been tremendous.
The waitress brought out a trio of treats.
First to dissapear was the ultimate Quebec treat: Smoked Meat Poutine.
For those who don’t know, poutine is the ultimate heart attack food, a French Canadian concoction of golden french fries, cheese curds, and a thick beef gravy. It tastes of heaven and slows the body, but the idea of mixing in chopped smoked meat seemed risky and somewhat goyish. The result however was heaven, shrouded in layer upon layer of decadent sin. Salty, meaty, beefy, cheesy, starchy, and just plain old fat. When I get to death row, that’s what I’ll be eating before I go. Watch Ben go to town:
Next was a nice scoop of beef chopped liver, dark and sweet, pasty and flecked with bits of chopped egg. The kicker, and truly the best part was the little mound of crisp fried onion strips, almost hairlike in size, that were infused with gallons of delicious oil which made the perfect topping for the liver atop rye. Chopped liver without fried onions is like a night without stars.
And finally, the piece de resistance: Le smoked meat. Pete’s is dry cured like many of Montreal’s finest, which means that the briskets are rubbed with spices, left to marinate for a week or more, then smoked (usually baked) and finally steamed. There’s no preservatives, no pumping or injecting, just a natural slow cure, some cooking, and lots o’ love. Pete’s famous meat is rightly so; it crumbled nicely upon biting in, was tender, and extremely moist (to the point of being succulent). It came with a beautiful dark carmel crust, which lent a hint of sweetness to the peppery spice, a lot more pronounced than others in town.
Best of all, Smoked Meat Pete is right on the way into or out of Montreal if you’re coming from (or going to) Toronto. It’s about ten minutes from the airport, so really there’s no excuse not to go.
*also, Peter Sr. is having a bit of maintenance this coming week, so send your wishes and prayers to one of Montreal’s first families of smoked meat
Smoked Meat Pete
283 1 AV
ÎLE-PERROT,QC
(514) 425-6068
Montreal Day 2: The wrecking ball waits for Ben’s
Thursday, June 7th, 2007I’m going to let you all know off the bat that I’m going to make you wait for the Schwartz’s post till the very end, but be prepared for some serious smoked meat shots, videos, and a guest appearance by someone flown in just for the occasion. Big time.
I was walking in downtown Montreal yesterday afternoon, passing by some of the once hallowed and now less cherished delis, like Dunn’s Smoked Meat and Reuben’s (whose turkey sandwich was always a favorite of mine back in the day).
I decided to pass by the site of Ben’s Deli and Restaurant, a 100 year institution that closed down last December after a slow and bitter death. At one point Ben’s was the place to go in Montreal for smoked meat, packing in hundreds like Katz’s, and making Schwartz’s, Lester’s, and others play second fiddle. The walls were lined with the photos of stars who passed through town, to the point that both Mel Brooks and Freddie Roman remember it fondly. But time did not play kindly to Ben’s and the owners let it slide well past the point of repair until it was a sad albatross of a deli. It all ended in a labour dispute that had the workers locked out, striking for such arcane things as tomatos and air conditioning. No way to go. There’s a short film coming out soon about the strike at the end. Tim Rideout made it, and you can see the short preview on his website here.
Now the building, which is an art deco classic, is slated for demolition, and the Art Deco Society of Montreal is trying to save it. It’s a worthy cause, and they will be holding a protest on June 14th at 12:00 pm, in front of Ben’s, at the corner of Metcalfe and de Maisonneuve blvd.
Photos like this is why we have to save delis. Soon the images will be all that’s left of one of the world’s most revered delis. Sad
Montreal Day 1
Tuesday, June 5th, 2007“When Dave Sax arrived at my Montreal apartment to research his book, I was pleased for two reasons. First, I knew I would have the opportunity to spend 3 or 4 days with my good friend David — always a delight. Second, I knew that I would be eating some delicious smoked meat. Though I’ve only lived in Montreal for 3 weeks, I feel that my connection to smoked meat is deep, and intense; a cow’s blood running through my veins. And in this twisted, meaty bloodline, Dave Sax is my brother.”
-Benjamin Leszcz
Thank you Ben. If it weren’t for the hospitality and floors of friends like you, this deli odyssey would go no further than my own home. A zei gezunt.
24 hrs in Montreal and already I question why I ever moved away, why my parents moved away, indeed why so many Jewish deli lovers moved away. In my opinion, Montreal is a deli town in a league of its own. It has some of the oldest, smallest, and most distinctive — and delicious — delicatessens in this world, based on its almost-mythological smoked meat. This is a product not unlike pastrami, though different in so many delicious ways. I’m not nearly done investigating, though I will say that the principal difference is that pastrami is most often made with the navel cut (a flatter, often tougher cut), while smoked meat is made with the brisket. Spicing is different, though I’ve yet to fully figure it out. Lord knows, I might never. Then there is the ubiquitous hand cutting, and the black cherry, and of course the jolie twist of la belle langue de les Quebecois.
Montreal’s deli scene is old school in the greatest sense, and I was lucky to have visited two of the great classics today: Lester’s and Wilensky’s.
Lester’s Delicatessen
My father grew up near Lester’s, in the leafy neighborhood of Outremont. He always raved about their smoked turkey, though I’m ashamed to say that I hadn’t eaten there since I was a child. I’ve tragically missed out.
The smoked meat at Lester’s ranks amongst the tops in the city. When hand-sliced by the expert cutter, the paper thin slices peel away from the meat like petals from a rose. Propped atop a small disc of rye (Montreal’s sandwiches tend to be smaller than other cities, but cost far less), slathered with mustard, the sandwich dissapears in several crucial bites.
Lester’s owner Billy Berenholc says that the steam opens the pores of the meat, letting the flavour aerate and intensify. All I knew was that it was beautiful, and my lunch companion — Montreal’s preserver of history — Mr. Eiran Harris.
On a warm summer day, the patio at Lester’s mixes the best of European cafe lifestyle, with the tastiest Eastern European meats. Heaven.
One Montreal food item that falls like heaven upon my tongue is karnatzel, a dried, narrow salami that reeks of garlic and is the perfect entry to a deli meal. The Montreal way to eat it is wrapped in a mustard-painted slice of rye. Others call it a pepperoni stick, but I think karnatzel has more flavor and less of that Slim Jim peppery junk than others. I could eat it in my sleep.
Lester’s also has excellent fries, frosted Muggs of root beer, a sweet coleslaw, and the smoked turkey my dad loves. Best of all, Lester’s delivers pre-cut, ready to eat packages of their smoked meat and stellar brisket all over North America. All you have to do is boil the package, cut it open, place it on the bread et voila! As you read this, whether in Miami or Vancouver, know that you are one click away from a delicious smoked meat sandwich splattering your keyboard with delicious mustard and grease droppings. 
So what are you waiting for?
www.lestersdeli.com
www.montrealsmokedmeat.com
1057 Bernard Ouest, Outremont, QC, H2V 1V1
514-213-1313
Wilensky’s Light Lunch
Purely and simply I love Wilensky’s more than any other deli I’ve ever encountered. Perhaps it is because I was taken there as a young child by my father. Perhaps it is because we returned on every subsequent trip to Montreal, my brother and I planning our schedules so we could fit in a trip to the corner shrine at Fairmount and Clark. Mostly though, it is because of The Wilensky Special, a sandwich of such perfect simplicity, it has become the stand alone reason for Wilensky’s 75 year existence.
Wilensky’s consists of a small wooden counter and nine wooden stools, an antique soda fountain, fading newspaper and magazine clippings, and rows of old paperbacks, selling for half the price of what’s advertised on the cover. My dad used to read dirty novels there until he was booted out by the late owner, Moe Wilensky. Nogoodnick.
Moe Wilensky’s legacy is the Wilensky Special, a grilled sandwich that consists of five slices of three different types of salami, with a slice and a half of bologna on a pletzl roll. Mustard on one side. Simple. Elegant. Perfect. When done right the flat sandwich crunches into several steaming bites of slippery salami, the salty flavor brought alive by the sharp kiss of yellow mustard. I’ve had dozens over my lifetime, and pray to have dozen’s more. Thankfully, Mrs. Ruth Wilensky, and her children Asher and Sharon, as well as the late Bernard, are the most diligent breed of deli purists. Nothing at Wilensky’s has changed in three quarters of a century, and in this case, preservation equals perfection.
Washed down with a hand jerked cherry soda or chocolate egg cream, there is no greater deli snack in my knowledge. It goes down like heaven, and unless you fire down six like my friend Steve Katz did back in 1999, there is no pain in the pursuit of this treat. No deli fan has lived until they’ve eaten at Wilensky’s. Go.
Wilensky’s Light Lunch
34 Fairmount St. West
Montreal,QC
514-271-0247
By the end of the day I had sent more than $100 in Lester’s smoked meat and Wilensky’s specials to my brother in Calgary, who will probably receive his fragrant package by the time he reads this tomorrow.
