Eat This Sandwich Now!

Since I'm in court in downtown Brooklyn pretty often, Mile End has become a go-to lunch spot. Like Serious Eats, I'm not a huge fan of the smoked meat, but I love the rest of the lunch menu (I need to try dinner, especially for kasha varnishkes). Today, I had an amazing chicken salad sandwich that I feel compelled to write about.

Things started right when I watched the poppy-seeded bread being griddled with a schmear of schmaltz. Spread on top was a simple chicken salad, tasting like it contained even more schmaltz inside. A layer of crispy gribenes-- fried chicken skin-- provided crunch and chicken flavor, while dill pickled cucumbers and pickled cherry peppers cut right through the middle. A perfect harmony of salad and toppings.

I don't think I've ever had a better chicken salad sandwich. Eat it now!

Mile End
97 Hoyt St
Brooklyn, NY 11217

A Late Night Katz Snapshot

Entering Katz Deli at three in the morning can bring the mistakes of your evening (and life) into sharp focus. Bright lights accentuate the pictures of long-dead celebrities about to stuff their faces with pastrami. Personally, I like to sit at the table in front of Dom DeLuise's picture, a chilling reminder of the dangers of gluttony (is there a John Candy photo on one of the back walls?)

The only excuse for anyone to be here this late on a Saturday night is to imbibe stomach-coating peppery, fatty meat. The sandwiches are typically devoured fast, with stray pieces of pastrami falling off faces and lodging themselves in the hidden parts of a scarf, sweater or fat-fold only to be discovered early next morning upon waking up with a vicious headache and a craving for water (the hangover from the previous night's salt bomb of a sandwich).

You know, that may actually be Paul Prudhomme...

Our experience was not much different. On entering, we had to negotiate with the ticket taker regarding whether or not we were too drunk to sit. Even though I gave a much longer than necessary explanation w/r/t our sobriety, we were deemed acceptable (I think he just wanted me to shut up and order).

Breaking the Fast at David's Brisket House

On Yom Kippur, the holiest of Jewish days, I surrendered to hunger and broke the fast at 4:30 pm (I take a liberal view of sundown) at a green formica lunch counter, with a massive brisket sandwich from David's Brisket House. To compound my sacrilege, I ate it with swiss cheese.

David's Brisket House sits on a busy stretch of Nostrand Avenue straddling Bed Stuy and Crown Heights in the heart of Brooklyn (and incidentally making the heart of Brooklyn the place I just moved, because the heart of Brooklyn is exactly where I say it is). Accounts vary on the provenance of the brisket house, (here's the Village Voice speculating as usual), but it's been owned since at least 2007 by Sultan and Waleed, along with their nephews and other relatives. These guys couldn't be more welcoming, (I'm easily swayed by samples and for showing off the various meats cooking directly in front of my seat at the counter).

The Pot Calling the Kettle Yellow and Montreal Smoked Meats

Despite all the buzz around Mile End, the first time I heard about this small deli located the Boerum Hill neighborhood of Brooklyn was when Chief suggested it for lunch before attending an Orientation to the Profession class presented by the good people at the Second Judicial Department. A three-hour class discussing legal ethics sounded about as much fun as attending a family reunion; mandatory, awkward and extremely boring with only the promise of good grub to help you through the excruciating pain. I kid, I kid! I don't despise my extended family that much, but the metaphor serves its purpose by emphasizing how good food can make a dull experience into an otherwise tolerable one. I've visited Montreal before, albeit only briefly, but was able to eat Montreal bagels and poutine so I was eager to see how this deli imported from Montreal stacked up.