What’s your inspiration for eating deli? In many cases it’s a deep hunger, or a nostalgic need that can only be sated by Jewish delicatessen.
I realize that Save the Deli (the site, the book, the 3D movie) has fueled many of those cravings over the past several years, and why not, that’s the essence of our mission here. Occasionally one of you will write to me about your visits to delis. Sometimes, you even chronicle those journeys (I’m thinking of you Teddy).
Today I got an email from Richard Blackman, who, along with childhood friends Gary, Malcolm, and Larry, left the pastures of suburban DC recently and drove up to the wilds of New York city to eat as much deli as possible in 48 hours.
CBS recently aired a broadcast about three of New York City’s finest delis. I dare you to watch without your mouth watering! But my friends and I did CBS one better – actually five better. We did a taste test of 8 delis in 36 hours.
It’s Saturday 9 AM and three of my elementary school friends, Larry, Malcolm and Gary, and I (all in our 50s now) jam into Gary’s 1994 Corolla on the way to New York City in search of the best deli sandwiches, side orders, and pickles. Five minutes into the trip we began an animated conversation – how will we rate the delis? How many total points would we use? How many points per sandwich, what about pickles, what about salads? We also discussed other criteria beside food. Do we add points for atmosphere, or cleanliness? And what about staff – do we add or subtract points for surliness? After an hour of lively discussion, we agreed that we would place the same order at each deli: three sandwiches (hot corned beef, brisket and pastrami), coleslaw, potato salad, and pickles. We also agreed that the taste of the food would be the only item evaluated, and that we would use 100 points total per person per deli — a maximum of 24 points for each sandwich, 14 for pickles, and 14 for side orders. With 4 raters, each deli could score a maximum 400 points.
Even before we set out, I had already won the first argument: we knew that we could not eat everything we ordered, and we would need to take two coolers rather than one for leftovers.
We’d been planning this trip for a year, inspired by David Saks’ book, Save the Deli, which gets a mention in the CBS video above. We chose the eight delis based on internet reviews, a poll of “deli-savvy” friends, and my own personal experiences.
Our first stop was Hobby’s Delicatessen and Restaurant in Newark, NJ. Salivating with pent-up anticipation after 200 miles on the road, Hobby’s did not disappoint. Hobby’s is truly an original. After walking past the obligatory deli case, with all the tasty food morsels, the co-owner, Marc Brummer, seated us in the spacious dining room. Marc is a deli-owner who loves his work and has “deli” running through his veins. He and his brother started in the business when they were teenagers, and have now taken over the business from their dad, who, although he’s in his 80’s, still offers helpful advice. Marc schmoozed with us throughout the meal and it was a blast. We asked if he was a “Hobby.” It turns out the deli used to be called Hocky’s, but a previous owner had to change the name and could only afford to change two letters in the sign—hence Hobby’s. Marc is a Brandeis graduate, and Larry is too — a high-five moment. This is a fun place to go, and you must spend time talking with the owner.
I’ve managed to eat latkes every day so far this Hannukah. Some good, some great (mom’s), some awful.
I spent Saturday night at Caplansky’s, attending a latke competition like no other. Here’s a great recap from the Toronto Star:
(photo: Steve Russell, Toronto Star)
No bubbies, but lots of latkes
by Sarah Barmak
Think of it as Iron Chef: Hanukkah edition.
On Saturday night, Caplansky’s, the College St. deli, was packed with lovers of the latke — the famed potato and onion pancake traditionally served during the Jewish holiday. The crowd was there for Latkepalooza, a raucous competition at which five entrants vied for the title of most delicious latke maker in the land.
It was Round II of Caplansky’s Battle of the Bubbies, which kicked off in September with a matzo ball cook-off. With contestants mostly in their 20s and 30s, there were few grannies in sight.
Lindsay Springer, 28, who teaches Grade 7 and 8, was confident of her chances — her aunt, Renee Schachter, won the battle of the matzo balls in Round I. Springer was surrounded by her boisterous mishpacha — that’s “family” in Hebrew — who shouted prepared cheers praising her.
The fight wasn’t nearly as cutthroat this time. Latkes, explained deli proprietor Zane Caplansky, are “egalitarian.” Anyone can make them.
Indeed, at least one of the five contestants, professional barbeque chef Danielle Dimovski, was attempting latke-making for the first time.
Contestants’ latkes were brought from home and heated in the Caplansky oven. Then brown-sugar applesauce was passed around for dipping and the judging began.
Guest judges — there were about 100 — were asked to rate patties on the basis of appearance, flavour, texture and overall likeability. CLICK HERE TO READ THE REST OF THE STORY
It’s that glorious day folks. When the oil sizzles, the starches congeal, and the apple sauce comes out. Light the candles (at least two, tonight), spread the gelt, eat the foil on the chocolate, and give some gifts around.
One that would be good, of course, is a copy of the newly released Save the Deli paperback edition. It’s been out in the USA for two months, and will be hitting shelves in Canada next week. Here’s the new Canadian cover, including James Beard’s bald head stamped right on there.
And now, on to the latkes, courtesy of this adorable Jewish nerd, and his sweet Bubbie.
And if you haven’t had your nerd fill yet, suck on this beauty:
I’m going to take today to talk about something not entirely deli related: mustaches (or moustaches). These furry creatures have adorned the faces of many fine deli men for many generations. Some of my favorites include the venerable stache of Lorne Pancer, at Toronto’s Moe Pancer’s delicatessen, but there are countless others. Mustaches are old school, masculine, and despite being the furthest thing from trendy, they are dependable and require a strong constitution to sport. They’re the deli men of facial hair, and they deserved to be complimented.
I’m writing this because all month I’ve been sporting my own mustache for the prostate cancer fundraiser Movember. Over the protests of my wife and the mocking porno jokes of my friends, I’ve taken this Burt Reynolds number to Chicago, New York, Scottsdale, the Bahamas, and this coming sunday, on national television. In exchange for the albatross on my upper lip, I’ve solicited donations to Movember.com. All money raised goes toward prostate cancer research, a disease that affects many men, and has taken many great deli men and deli lovers from us over the years.
So please, if you have $10 or $1000 to spare, donate to my Movember page and help those men more manly than I.
To Revive Jewish Dishes, Some Cooks Look to the Shtetl
GROWING up in Montreal, Noah Bernamoff had an issue with his mother’s kasha varnishkes.
“My mom’s had so much kasha with a noodle here and there,” he said. “I wanted to reverse the process to make it taste better.”
Two decades later, in his Brooklyn delicatessen, Mile End, he is reinventing this Eastern European comfort dish in what he thinks might be the tradition of his ancestors.
Clearly, his Lithuanian great-grandmother never purchased bow tie noodles at the supermarket, so in his commissary kitchen he pinches dough into butterfly shapes by hand. They will later be tossed with buckwheat groats, caramelized onions and mushrooms cooked in duck fat, with a confit of chicken gizzards gently stewed in duck fat.
For several decades now, many American Jews with a passion for food and a desire for broader horizons tended to explore Sephardic cooking, with its lush Mediterranean accents. Recently, though, cooks have been pouring their energy into old Ashkenazic dishes that had traveled so far they had lost much of their flavor.
Mr. Bernamoff is one such cook, who wants to preserve the past, but not necessarily the recent past. For some cooks, the search for authenticity begins with ingredients that taste as they might have in Eastern Europe. CLICK HERE TO READ THE REST OF THE STORY
Enjoy the next few days. I’m going to be off in the Bahamas for a wedding. Oh yeah.
Also, the CBS story is now going to be the weekend after this one. Keep crossing those fingers.
For all those who couldn’t wait to buy the paper edition (or can’t find Saveur, or are just cheap), good news. The article is now online at Saveur.com. While the text is there, I implore you to pick up a paper copy to see Landon Nordeman’s amazing photographs (including the beauty of Schwartz’s Frank Silva, above) and just experience this as you should.
Ok, so if you tuned in yesterday to CBS Sunday Morning, you undoubtedly didn’t see me. I got a call late on Saturday night from the producer that my segment was being held until this coming Sunday, which is right before Chanukah. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time (I was out eating pizza at this magic place), to update, and I apologize to those of you who tuned in disappointed. What can I say…tune in this sunday…hopefully I’ll be there (I’ll actually be in the Bahamas).
However…all is not lost. CBS did post a story on their website linked to the filmed piece. So read this and enjoy.
Delis: Timeless Temples of “Jewish Soul Food”
Jewish Delicatessens Preserve Traditions Beyond What’s on the Menu
(CBS) Tradition . . . it’s the main ingredient in every dish at an authentic Jewish delicatessen.
From corned beef to chopped liver, matzo ball soup to grilled salami - this is the taste of tradition: rich, spicy, and good for your soul (if not your cholesterol).
For more than 50 years, Jack Lebewohl and his family have done a few things right: Their Second Avenue Deli is a temple to Jewish-American cooking, where the sandwiches are so big, they’re downright intimidating.
How does one eat one of their pastrami sandwiches?
“How do I eat it? Fatty,” said Lebewohl. “Anyone who takes a lean pastrami sandwich, they think it’s healthier, but it’s not better, it doesn’t taste as good!
Just a reminder to everyone out there to tune into CBS Sunday Morning for the Save the Deli segment. The show starts at 9 am (if you have to ask the day and channel…think twice), and I don’t know what time the segment will be on. But it should be fun. Or entertaining. Or newsy. Either way, I have a mustache for Movember, so tune in.
Also, I neglected to mention in my note about the Saveur story yesterday the sensational opening essay by Besty Andrews about her grandmother, the deli lover. It’s touching, funny, and as unschmaltzily nostalgic as something like that can be. Buy the issue and read it.
Friends, behold the glorious photograph above (credit to Landon Nordeman, a king amongst princes). These badass gents are kosher butchers in Budapest, about to turn beef into salamis, sausages, and other tasty treats. It opens my feature in the December issue of Saveur magazine called The Roots of Deli.
This past July, I traveled for eight days in Bucharest, Romania and Budapest, Hungary with photographer Landon Nordeman, searching for the culinary roots of the Jewish delicatessen. We ate in Jewish community centres, old aged homes, butcher shops, kosher restaurants, and private houses, tasting the schmaltzy essence (goose schmaltzy) at the heart of deli’s taste. Highlights included incredible challah, Romanian cabbage rolls, goose liver cooked in goose fat, goose fat matzo balls, and even more goose. We topped it off with the Hungarian poppy seed cake, flodni.
The article focuses on the forces that not only created these foods, but sustain them in Eastern Europe’s dwindling Jewish communities. Consider it an extra chapter to Save the Deli…one that never quite made it into the book. You can’t see it online (Saveur is old school that way), but it’s worth picking up a copy wherever finer magazines are sold. For the goose fat soaked recipes alone! Not to mention Landon’s amazing photographs.
