Back in April I wrote about how a New York Times article on the current state of Jewish delis in America woke me up from my assimilated Pacific Northwest slumber, stirring gastronomic memories that I’d occluded after 17 years living in decidedly un-Jewish Bellingham.
In short, after reading about the delis I pledged my kingdom for a corned beef, pastrami, cole slaw, and Russian dressing on rye sandwich.
Well, today I received an email from a friend who’d read my deli post, the email contained the photo you see here and an invite to lunch at a deli in Bellingham that he’d tracked down on the far opposite side of town, a deli that I didn’t even know existed.
Now that’s either devious manipulation of my Jewish predisposition or that’s true friendship. I’m going with the latter!
Of course, in an attempt to avoid disappointment, I will be doing my best to keep my expectations in check. After all, it would be totally unfair to go in there thinking of the world famous Carnegie Deli.
But damn! I can’t frickin’ wait until Friday!