After eating a pastrami on rye at Katz's yesterday, I wondered if Sally was really demonstrating her skillfull faking or was actually moaning orgasmically about the sandwich. Last time I ate at Katz's I had a corned beef that was pretty darned good but I've had its equal at the Carnegie. The pastrami, though, was unlike any I've ever had. My previous favorite (and still a contender) was the thinly sliced and very spicy offering at the now defunct Pastrami King in Forest Hills (which has moved to the Upper East Side, apparently by way of Sweden, because they're now the Pastrami Queen). Very thickly cut, its edges black with spices, the tender meat's fragrance was literally mouthwatering. The complimentary plate of sour and half-sour pickles, all the vegetables you need with this meal, are the perfect side dish.color Once you've figured out how to order your sandwich, had your first unforgettable taste and acclimated yourself to this classic Lower East Side archetype, you might look around and notice that, on the whole, the place is a dump. Charmingly so, but still a dump. Beat up tables are crowded together in a huge dingy room. One wall is covered with pictures of the many politicians, actors and other celebrities who have trekked to this place over the years and its opposite is lined with a mob crowding the glass cases where the countermen are slicing cuts of meat as big as a beagle. The front window plate glass has been dimmed by, one likes to think, more than a century of steaming meat and countless satisfied posprandial eructations.
If you stand outside on Houston Street and press your nose to the glass, your view will be obscured by enormous salamis hanging from strings.
how-to When you walk in, you'll be confronted by a turnstile manned by a guard who will hand you a ticket. Do not lose the ticket. Everything you purchase will be added to your total on the ticket and if you don't have it when you go to the register, your wallet will be punished. Walk up to the counter, pick a line (you don't have to herd around the front two countermen) and approach your man with ticket and tip in hand. Make sure he sees you put the tip in his cup as you order and you will be rewarded with the first slice on a plate for you to taste, a full plate of pickles and a ridiculously thick sandwich. You may order a club roll if you must but rye is deli's natural delivery device. Please, please, please don't ask for mayo - I was horrified to see the man at the next table eating his pastrami on a club roll with lettuce, cheese and mayo. While this is a fine combo for roast beef at Subway, it just won't do for prime deli.
When you have your sandwich, proceed to the drink station, hand them your ticket and order a Dr. Brown's Black Cherry or Cel-Ray. Examine the price on your ticket. Does it look right? (when I ordered a half a pound of salami and a half a pound of chopped liver at the counter at the far end, the counterman took an inordinately long time adding these two small items and added $19 for $11 worth of appetizing to my ticket). Pick a table in the middle of the room - the tables along the walls are for waiter service.
