Ed Levine wants to know, “What’s Your Favorite Deli?”
Tuesday, October 23rd, 2007
Gail Simmons (Food and Wine/ Top Chef) and Ed Levine at Artie’s in New York
New York Times food writer, meta foodie blogger, and cosumate fresser Ed Levine wants to know what your favorite deli is. The head honcho over at his website Serious Eats, who knows his way around a spiced, smoked navel, is all aflutter over the reopening of the 2nd Ave Deli, and his passion for deli is rising once again.
It started yesterday with his comment on the New York Times article on the 2nd Ave Deli.
The city has been a lesser place without the Second Avenue Deli. I for one can’t wait to have a bowl of that incomparable mushroom-barley soup. a corned beef sandwich, and an order of french fries. Welcome back, Second Avenue Deli.
In that article, he lay out the challenge for young Jeremy Lebewohl as clearly as he could. Many delis have declined in quality in New York. Levine believes the 2nd Ave Deli was never the same after Abe Lebewohl died in 1996, and his brother Jack, a real estate lawyer, took over. Ed’s words are those of a seasoned critic…direct, insightful, brimming with opinion, and often pointed.
Click to read “The Second Avenue Deli: Reopening to Close an Old Wound”
Today he’s back on the deli train. Levine wants to know your thoughts on where the best delis rest. He is a firm defender of New York’s, and though he acknowledges Langer’s and Schwartz’s, he remains focused on the five boroughs.
Here’s a selection of his tops:
Artie’s –The pastrami is excellent (ask for it well-steamed), the hot dogs are just about as good, the chicken soup has gotten better over the years, and the skin-on french fries are solid if not spectacular.
Ben’s Best– Ben’s Best owner Jay Parker is an old-fashioned deli man, a chip off Abe Lebewohl’s block.
Carnegie Deli — Yes, the Carnegie Deli’s portions are obscene, and it is indeed a haven for tourists in search of the deli experience they can’t get at home, but the Carnegie still makes a terrific if gargantuan pastrami sandwich, fine matzo ball soup, the best corned beef hash I’ve ever had (ask for it extra crispy), and an overly large, extremely greasy, but utterly delicious potato knish.
Katz’s — The soups are ordinary, the french fries a pale, frozen shadow of their former selves, but a hand-cut pastrami sandwich from Katz’s is a gift from the deli gods.
Liebman’s — The Bronx has a long, proud tradition of Jewish delis, but in the last 20 years their numbers have dwindled precipitously. Liebman’s in Riverdale is doing its best to maintain the Bronx deli tradition.
Sarge’s– Sarge’s has everything a deli should have, bad florescent lighting, a wisecracking waitstaff, fine house-smoked pastrami, and terrific french fries. I don’t think I’ve ever had soup at Sarge’s.
I’ve responded at length in Ed’s comments, as should you. It’s due time for some serious deli discourse and Ed Levine is putting us up to the challenge.
Click here to read “The Best Jewish Delis: What’s Your Favorite?”
Click here to read “An Ageless Pleasure Between the Rye” from the New York Times in 2003
Click here to see the audio slideshow from the Times article
Just Say Nu: A shmear of Yiddish
Wednesday, October 17th, 2007
I normally reserve this site strictly for deli or deli related subjects, but I’m going to diverge a bit today in order to promote a worthy friend’s work.
Deli is Yiddish cuisine, and the language of Yiddish is integral to the deli business. Those truly in the know are fluent in Yiddish or at least it’s related expressions and idioms. For most of us, kvetch, putz, gonif, and bissel will suffice. Until now.
Following up on his New York Times Bestseller “Born to Kvetch”, my friend and deli lunch companion Michael Wex, has just released the wonderful “Just Say Nu: Yiddish for Every Occasion (When English Just Won’t Do)”. The book is a guide to Yiddish you can whip out of your pocket, whether in traffic, bed, or from the receiving side of the deli counter.
Here’s the description from Wex’s own site:
Just Say Nu - a cross between Henry Beard’s Latin for All Occasions and Ben Schott’s Schott’s Original Miscellany, the book is a practical guide to using Yiddish words and expressions in day-to-day situations. Along with enough grammar to enable readers to put together a comprehensible sentence and avoid embarrassing mistakes, Wex also explains the five most useful Yiddish words – shoyn, nu, epes, takeh, and nebakh – what they mean, how and when to use them, and how they can be used to conduct an entire conversation without anybody ever suspecting that the reader doesn’t have the vaguest idea of what anyone is actually saying. Readers will learn how to shmooze their way through such activities as meeting and greeting; eating and drinking; praising and finding fault; maintaining personal hygiene; going to the doctor; driving; parenting; getting horoscopes; committing crimes; going to singles bars; having sex; talking politics and talking trash.
And from today’s review in the New York Times:
What’s Yiddish for double-dipping? With verve, élan and something only a non-Yiddish speaker would call chutzpah, Michael Wex returns to the linguistic mother lode that yielded “Born to Kvetch,” his brilliant cultural history of Yiddish. This time around, in “Just Say Nu,” he gets down to the everyday business of putting Yiddish to use. When a tipesh (moron) dawdles in front of you on the highway, selecting the right curse matters. Mr. Wex, like a Yiddish sommelier, knows just the expression for this or any other occasion.
Wex in his element. At Pancer’s. With meat.
Here’s an extract from the book itself:
Nakhes, often spelled “nachos” in English, is probably the best-known of all Yiddish words having to do with pleasure. If a phrase like
NAkhes FIN KINder
pleasure that you get from your children
hasn’t yet entered English, it isn’t for want of trying. Nakhes pops up often enough on T.V. and in movies to suggest that even people who keep Christmas are familiar with it. It means “delight, pleasure,” but it means so much more than “delight” or “pleasure.” Uriel Weinreich glosses it as “(spiritual) pleasure,” by which he means only that you can’t get any nakhes from a body rub (though the rub itself can be a mekheiyeh). The pleasure to which nakhes refers is intangible, unquantifiable; it takes place in the mind, rather than the body, and is entirely a matter of disposition or point of view: graduation ceremony means nothing to you until a child of yours is one of the graduates.
So, NU, what are you waiting for?
Audio CD: for those who can’t or don’t want to read
Buy Born to Kvetch from Amazon.com
The Yiddish World of Michael Wex
Deli night in Dhaka
Friday, October 12th, 2007
Being deprived of deli is a terrible thing, especially when geographic circumstances render it so distant as to be prohibitive. Once in a while I come accross people who go to great lengths to get deli to where they are. I’ve heard of people ordering Katz’s or Carnegie foods to random corners of Idaho, and I personally have shipped my brother over $100 of Lester’s smoked meat and Wilensky’s specials to Calgary by air.
So imagine my surprise in June when I received the following email from my good friend Ashley Wheaton, who works for an NGO in Dhaka, Bangledesh:
“Sax,
A friend of mine here in Bangladesh (Owen Lippert) recently travelled to North America and was inspired to address the lack of all things deli in Dhaka. He arrived back in the Bang with 40 lbs of smoked meat (in its own separate suitcase). He’s an Ottawa boy, so it’s from Dunns, a deli unknown to my palate but it beats dal bhat, and my parasite filled stomach is excited about whatever version of smoked meat it can get. Owen and I are currently drumming up schemes of what to do with his treasure (charity event? Canada Day party? or, just keep it to ourselves…hmmm… yes) but regardless of what fate the four slabs of heaven come to we need some serious advice on how to prepare them.
xo
Ash”
I’ve heard of deli sent to Israel, and salamis sent to Iraq, but this was a first. This was four big briskets smuggled into the heart of a Muslim country in the tropical heat of the Indian subcontinent. I consulted my sources and sent back a complete reply:
“Ashers,
Four briskets is a shitload, and they may keep for a week or two, but the way to do this is a big event. Suffice to say there won’t be many Jews there, I’d do a fat smoked meat party and invite anyone you can.
The prep:
Bread: You’ll need to find rye bread or some form of equivalent. Can’t stress this enough. If that fails, I’d go kaiser or onion roll or pumpernickel. Something tart and fairly small. No white. No french. Nothing sweet. Source out the bakeries and hotels and procure some rye. I’d say about 2 loaves per brisket. Each brisket will yield roughly 10 sandwiches, depending on how big you make them.
2. Steam: This is the most crucial part. You need to steam these smoked meats for 1.5-2 hours. Not boil. No water should touch the meat. A steam box is ideal, which is a big metal steamer that hotels and restaurants may have. If that fails, you need a big pot with a rack and water on the bottom. You can stack the briskets on top of one another. Get a big two-prong carving fork (like they use for roast beef) to handle the meat. you will know when the meat is ready, when the fork slides effortlessly in and out of it. Feel it at the beginning, half an hour in,and then eveyr fifteen minutes. It’s all by touch, but you should be able to take your thumb and jab it into the flesh once it’s soft enough. Don’t worry about steaming too long, it’ll be soft and crumbly but good.
3. Slicing: The most important part. A smoked meat brisket has several parts, it’s not like cutting a meatloaf. You need to find the grain, and cut against it, or across it. Think about a plank of wood. You never cut next to the lines, you cut across them. This is the difference between rubbery smoked meat and tender. Most crucial. Practice on steak.
Start from the tip of the brisket (the smaller, narrow end) where the leanest meat is. Place the carving fork into the meat and rest the back of the blade against it at a 45 degree angle pointing down. Then, using the fork as a balance, you’ll slice off the meat, in reasonably thin slices, on an angle until you have enough for a sandwich. Slide the blade under the cut meat, lift it onto the bread, press down the second slice of bread and pull the knife away. Then make a bridge with your fingers over the sandwich, slide the knife underneath and slice it in half.
-keep working down the brisket, but remember to follow the grains. The fattier meat is toward the back end of the brisket, and the medium stuff is at the middle. Take the scraps that will fall with each cut, and toss them into the sandwich…that’s where a lot of the flavor is.
Use plain yellow mustard…no dijon, no flavored shit.
xo
DS”
And then nothing. Months went by without word from Ashley. She returned to Canada for a visit, cured a few diseases, and watched riots take place in Bangledesh, but I heard no word on the deli. I suspected the meat went rancid in the humid air.
Then last week I got a flurry of emails in my inbox from Ashley, jammed with photos. Not much I can add to these. Just look at the happy faces. And I must say, the chefs did great work. I assume this was done in the Canadian embassy compound, but I’m not sure. Taken out of context those sure look like damn good deli sandwiches, better than I’ve had in many parts of North America. Considering the fact that these were in Bangledesh is just astounding.
My hat goes off to Owen, Ashley and the rest of the crew in Dhaka.
No craving for deli should ever go unsatisfied.
Shana Tova: Pray for a Schmaltzy New Year
Wednesday, September 12th, 2007
It is almost upon us dear friends, the most wonderful, brisket filled time of the year, when Jewish households all over the world put aside the great distraction of multicultural foods around them and head back to the kitchen for a bissel of their roots. The high holy days may be rooted in Torah and Talmud, but for many, it is punctuated by an orgiastic exercise in fressing that is unparalelled. Plates will be piled, pants will be stretched, gas will be passed.
More chopped liver?
As always, the great New York Times is weighing in on the high holy day season with a pair of great articles out in today’s dining section.
In Extra Crunch for the Kugel author Melissa Clark discusses the joys of a good hard kugel, and her efforts to make some.
I mixed everything together and filled my muffin tins. There was still a lot of kugel mix left, so I buttered a jellyroll pan (as opposed to a deeper casserole dish) and filled that, too, figuring that the greater amount of exposed surface area would yield a higher crisp-to-soft ratio, mimicking the muffin tins. Then I baked everything at a slightly higher temperature than usual so that the top would get extra crisp before the bottom had a chance to dry out.
The kugels emerged from the oven gorgeously golden, with the tips of the noodles singed to a chocolate hue.
Interesting and arguably delish, though I’m more of a sweet, dense kugel man. The best three I’ve had in my deli journeys are the following:
1. Blueberry Kugel at Max and Benny’s, in Northbrook, IL.
I love blueberries, and while this kugel tastes of summer and bursts with sweet bites, it’s the color that really gets me. Enough blue dots to make any Smurf happy.
2. Ultra custardy sweet kugel at Jimmy and Drew’s 28th St. Deli in Boulder, CO
Imagine something that tastes like a mixture between rice pudding, creme caramel, creme brule and kugel, and you have some inkling at the sugary, eggy bomb that is this wonder of kugelry.
3. Kugel of air at Kenny and Ziggy’s, Houston, TX
If anyone doubts the culinary prowess of Mr. Ziggy Gruber (getting married real soon), they have never tasted the wonder of his airy kugel. He must whip the eggs with the wings of angels, because this kugel has the consistency of a delicate soufle. Unbelievable.
In the same dining section appears an excellent article by America’s Jewish food guru, the great Joan Nathan, about tongue.
A Delicacy That Is Better When It’s Not Served Whole (oh New York Times and your witty headlines!) is an excellent mixture of cookery and journalism into one of the most misunderstood, maligned, and ultimately delicious cuts of deli meat. In her article, Mrs. Nathan talks to some of our favorite characters in the deli world, including Gary Canter, Michel Kalifa, and Sy Ginsberg.
Tongue is traditionally preserved by pickling exactly the way corned beef is. After sitting in a brine of salt, garlic, pepper, spices, sodium nitrite and sodium erythorbate for several days, it is cooked for a long time in water to tenderize the muscles. Then the protective skin covering the now tender tongue is peeled off.
Today, with America’s burgeoning immigrant population, the market for tongue is changing. “When I first started in this business in the late ’70s the slaughterhouse operators in rural areas would call me and ask me to pick up cheaper cuts like tongue, tails and heart for nothing,” said Sy Ginsberg of United Meat & Deli in Detroit. “Now they are a delicacy, and tongue costs more than brisket because the Mexicans and the Asians use so many of them.”
The first time I had tongue was by accident. My father had ordered a tongue sandwich and I corned beef for takeout, and as we pulled the car away and wolfed down our sandwiches, my dad turned to me after I was through the first half and said “I think you just ate my tongue.” Yes, looking at a whole tongue in the deli case can be disturbing, and cold sliced tongue isn’t my deli meat of choice, but you aren’t a deli fan until you have experienced the salty velvet kiss of a hot tongue sandwich. It’s like french kissing a cow with mustard.
Not every deli carries tongue, and it can be very expensive. If it’s cold, forget it. Hot tongue only in my opinion. My favorite spots for tongue are:
1. Yitz’s Delicatessen, Toronto, Canada
-the scene of my first tongue lashing and most subsequent consumption.
2. Gottlieb’s Delicatessen, Brooklyn, NY
This is probably the most Jewish Jewish deli in the world. I’m going to write a full profile one day soon, but just know it’s Hassidic, Yiddish is spoken and the tongue is killer and glatt kosher.
3. Liebman’s Delicatessen, Bronx, NY
I’ve written about Liebman’s before. Their tongue is Empire National, which makes some of the best stuff out there.
4. Ben’s Delicatessen, Long Island, Manhattan, Boca Raton
Ben’s is the largest deli chain out there, which many might think is a bad thing. But owner Ronnie Dragoon is such a true deli man that he has kept the operation old school in taste. Tongues (and corned beefs) are pickled in-store. Ben’s also does a great tongue polonaise, which is tongue in a sweet raisin sauce.
I think that should satisfy you all until the holy days are over. Shana Tova to all my dear deli fans out there. May the next year be as sweet for you as the last one was for me, and we shall all pray for the deli to thrive for hundreds more.
Zay Gezunt!
Chaz on Rye…how unkosher should a deli be?
Thursday, August 23rd, 2007Things have been quiet here in deli world. It’s the summer after all, and most of us are working on our grilling skills, rather than the steam tables. So I figured it’s time to spice things up with some sacriligeous debate right before the high holy days.
High on the Hog
I want to talk about treyf. Shrimp. Milk and Meat. Bacon. Ham. Pork. (the later three of which I’m told come from one magical animal!)
Let me preface this by saying that I am in no way kosher. I eat every manner of chazer that crawls upon the earth and feasts from the bottom. I’ve consumed countless cheeseburgers, ribs, wontons, and variations of unclean and unkosher foods over my lifetime. I wasn’t brouht up kosher and I don’t foresee myself ever becoming kosher, let alone the stricter glatt kosher.
And yet, when I go to a delicatessen and I see ham on the menu, or cheese on the sandwiches I cringe. I’ve been told by owners of delis that they’ll openly scold someone for ordering mayonaise on a corned beef sandwich, while they serve Reubens with pride. I have heard them openly mock those who order milk with a pastrami on rye, yet they’ll boast about the quality of their clam chowder. The worst are those who do this and still call themselves “Kosher Style Delis”, and somehow justify it by saying their meat (which they’d dress with lobster if it sold), comes from a kosher-style provisions company.
Here in Canada, where assimilation is less prevelant than in the United States, and where we are somewhat more traditional, you’ll rarely find cheese or pig on the menu at a Jewish delicatessen. But in the United States the best known delis are those who completely ignore any of the kashrut conventions.
Once upon a time all Jewish delis were kosher. Now the kosher delis are in the minority. A lot of this has to do with cost. As more Jews have abandoned kosher living, those who adhere to it have demanded higher and higher standards of inspection. Glatt kosher, the rigorous standard practiced by the orthodox, is extremely labor intensive. A glatt kosher deli, such as Noah’s Ark in New York and New Jersey, must employ a mashgiach, who is paid to supervise the kitchen at each and every deli, for all the hours the place is open. That’s the main reason why kosher delis are much more expensive than non-kosher one’s. Often, rival supervision agencies will refuse to certify a deli unless they pay their rabbis, cutting them off from a chunk of the community. They’ll take out ads in Jewish papers, declaring that “Vaad of Vancouver states that Goldstein’s Deli is no longer kosher”. Many rightly refer to this as extortion.
However, the journey down treyf lane is a perilous one, which delis frequently ignore. What may start off with a slice of swiss on the corned beef can quickly snowball into cobb salads and grilled pork chops. The more Philly cheesesteaks a deli serves, the less attention it is paying to the chopped liver. Variety may be the spice of life, but the delicatessen demands a concentrated effort.
I am not advocating delicatessens all return to kosher standards. That is an unrealistic, and rather expensive option, which would surely eliminate many fine delis from the map. But a line must be drawn somewhere. Pork has no place in a deli. Shrimp has no place in a deli. Pastrami, corned beef, and brisket are meats of such succulence, that cheese only dulls their attributes.
So I open the question to you: is there a minimum kosher standard Jewish delis should adhere to? Or is it a free for all, with all the chazerei on the table?
Le Tour De Nosh
Friday, August 10th, 2007
For those of you looking for a little delicatessen based physical activity this weekend (aside from the lifting and chewing), take your cue from the San Francisco Noshers. This newly formed group, led by the great David Katznelson, are all avid fans of Jewish food. David wanted to organize a tour of the Bay Area’s great delicatessens, but instead of renting the mini-van, he told everyone to come by bike. Amazing.
How much more San Fran does it get folks? An eco friendly way to enjoy the great foods of the most gorgeous city in America. To those who say no such good deli exists in the city by the bay, I will point you here. More importantly, I challenge any of you to organize your own Tours de Nosh in your hometowns. Imagine biking around Chicago or Hollywood or Philadelphia, hitting up the best delicatessens and shedding pounds along the way. If you do, I promise to post your photos and stories up here.
Many thanks to David Katznelson, Scott Kirschenbaum, and Philip Maisel for the photos. And a round of applause to all the Rebooters and friends who came out for a relatively drug free tour.
A License for Deli
Thursday, August 9th, 2007A fan from Michigan sent me this photo the other day. It’s amazed me how many delicatessen themed vanity plates there are in this world. I’m sure there’s more than what I’m showing below, and I’d love to see them. Send them over or post them on Flickr.
Pastramigasms
Tuesday, May 29th, 2007Biting into a deli sandwich can be an intense, sensual experience. The rush of flavors to the mouth combined with salt to the bloodstream and fat to the stomach triggers a sensory overload. The pleasure is intense. Often, it’s orgasmic.
Meg Ryan’s famous ‘faking it’ over a Katz’s pastrami sandwich from “When Harry Met Sally”
George Costanza’s pavlovian sexual reaction to pastrami from “Seinfeld”
Friend Adam Caplan’s tumble into ecstacy from a Centre Street smoked meat.
Upload yours to You Tube and send me the links. I’ll put them on the site.
Shavuot Edition: 11 City/ 2nd Ave News-Off the Broiler-Blintzporn
Tuesday, May 22nd, 2007Various tidbits to report for you hungry souls.
1. Eleven City Diner the sequel!
I spoke with Brad Rubin last week, the charismatic owner of Chicago’s Eleven City Diner, a retro deli/diner that is a hipster gem (read my take on it here). Brad is esctatic, because he has just confirmed Eleven City will open another location on Chicago’s famous Magnificent Mile. It’ll open sometime toward the end of the year, in a 400 seat space, which Rubin promises will be bigger and better and more vast than his south loop gem. But don’t despair deli lovers, Rubin also promises tongue, and says “Don’t think we’ll get modern on your ass!”
God bless the blessed meshugunneh.
1112 S. Wabash Ave., Chicago
Tel: (312) 212-1112
www.elevencitydiner.com
As well, the rebirth of the 2nd Ave Deli is becoming an encroaching reality. See the story on Eater here. My sources say it’ll be sometime in October, after the high holy days are passed. Can’t wait.
2. Blog on Blog Love: Off the Broiler
I returned from a conference in Utah last night to a flood of emails in my inbox from a Mr. Jason Perlow, packed with links, pics, and deli talk. Mr. Perlow is the founder of the foodie supersite eGullet, though now he has his own blog Off the Broiler. Perlow is a deli fan to the core, and has become a Save the Deli fan as well.
He posted a wonderful entry about this site on Off the Broiler, and then proceeded to follow the deli trail and head up to the Bronx to sample Liebman’s. Perlow’s description and photos from the Riverdale eatery are sensational. It makes me want to head back and dive into a tongue sandwich with a sweet cabbage roll on the side. There’s also a killer Flickr gallery to accompany. I highly suggest any deli and food lover check’s out Off the Broiler for some serious New York Eats.
www.offthebroiler.wordpress.com
3. … And God Said “Eat a Blintz”
Tonight begins the Jewish festival of Shavuot, the celebration of when the Jews received the Torah from you know who on Mt. Sinai. Baruch Hashem. For deli lovers, Shavuot is the time to feast on dairy products (put the corned beef down for a few days!), like cheesecake and my favorite, cheese blintzes. In honor of this, I’m going to include some blintz porn. Enjoy.
Ess Gezunt!
Words of Wisdom from Mr. T: Eat Your Pastrami Fool!
Wednesday, May 16th, 2007Listen up kids. Don’t think eating deli is good for you? Take it from Mr. T.
Mr. T. and Norm Langer, at Langer’s Deli in LA.
Mr. T. just finished a two week eating tour of Los Angeles delis with his manager Barry Greenberg, inspired (I like to think), by the enthusiasm of Save the Deli’s Los Angeles posts and our LA Podcast. I spoke the Mr. T. in the midst of this tour, and he imparted some words of wisdom.
“I pity the fool who doesn’t think deli is healthy! That’s a bunch of junk. Every food is healthy if you bless it. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it! A lot of peole get so caught up in the health food, walk out and get hit by a truck!”
Mr. T. is a regular fan of Junior’s, and he considers Marvin Saul like a father. Mr. T’s deli diet generally consists of several glasses of orange juice, a couple of eggs, and some danish, plus a whopping hot pastrami sandwich wedged between four slices of whole wheat bread–two on top and two on the bottom. Deli purists will only eat rye, but Mr. T has bad memories of eating rye when growing up in the ghettos of Chicago
“which is why T. don’t eat rye”
…so we’ll let it slide.
Kids, listen to Mr. T! Eat your deli and grow up strong like him. Don’t do drugs, love your parents, and stay in school.
If anyone tells you deli is bad. Pity the fool!
*many thanks to Mr. T. and Barry Greenberg for their time and enthusiasm.
some Mr. T. gold:
