Katz's Deli

photo courtesy of www.katzdeli.com

I know, I know. How behind the times am I? Katz's delicatessen opened in 1888 and it's taken me 118 years to eat there. I've only been in New York for two of those 118 years, but that's still no excuse to have never bitten into a mega-sandwich from one of the Jewish deli institutions. It was a tough call. Carnegie's or Katz's? Katz's or Carnegie's? In the end, because of its place in Manhattan's cultural make up, Katz's won. Oh Katz's pastrami sandwich, where have you been all my life?

It was a miserable rainy day and I ran into Katz's in my water gear, like I had just stepped off Maid of the Mist at Niagara Falls. It took me a few minutes to shake off the drips, and I caught a few of the workers behind the counter laughing. But I knew it wouldn't be long before they'd be staring at me in silence and wonder, at how much food I would inhale.

You walk into Katz's and it's lit up like a dentist's office. There are a lot of signs yelling at you that say what to do and where to go but it's all part of the sensory overload. Like I can't walk and chew gum at the same time, I can't smell pastrami and potatoes and read at the same time. Katz's looks like an oversized and overstaffed cafeteria. There's a small "toll booth" to your left when you walk in, which I learned is where you pay after stuffing your face. Someone told me ahead of time, thank goodness, that the ticket you pick up when you walk in is your ticket to freedom from the deli, and freedom from paying the $50 fine if you lose it. I lose movie tickets from the cashier to the attendant so I made sure to glue it to my pocket.

I looked at the far wall and decided to start with the beer first, so I could sip on beer while the guys made my sandwich. The young beer-ista grabbed my ticket and scribbled something on it and gave it back to me. Aha! I get it now. It's my "tab." And the next guy will scratch it out and add to it with each of my orders.

Next stop was sandwich man. A little old man behind the counter stared at me blankly. I turned around to see if he was looking at someone else, but no, I was the one who was holding up his operation. I blurted out, "Pastrami with sauerkraut, mustard and cheese, please." With no questions asked, he turned around and went to work diligently on my sandwich. I thought he was preparing a Thanksgiving feast. He meticulously got his area ready and grabbed for his knife, meat and condiments. I tried not to watch with impatience and wandered off. I read they had potato latkes so I went to discover them. It took me about five minutes to figure out which counter to order them from. Finally, after being directed a few times to the "next" counter, I found my man.

As if I hadn't made enough Katz's bloopers already, after I got all my food I placed my tray down on one of the tables against the wall. MAYDAY! MAYDAY! The server who had remained incognito until that very second came flying out of hiding and into my face. "This is only for waiter service, waiter service. Only waiter service." Ok, ok, ok. You'd think I had picked up my sandwich and smashed it against the picture of Ben Stiller and his family with the owner of Katz's. I moved gracefully and quietly to the tables in the middle, hoping not too many people had picked up on my mistake.

I stared at my sandwich for a few seconds, figuring out how I was going to eat it. In a last ditch effort, I looked around to see if I could copy somebody else's method but there was no one. With my fingertips outstretched I could barely pick up one of the halves, let alone fit it in my mouth. I tried squishing it down a bit, and some of the pastrami snuck out, but at least I could bite into it. The pastrami reuben is now one of my favorite sandwiches of all time. The pastrami was warm and sliced thick and rimmed with pepper. The cheese, sauerkraut and mustard meshed together and oozed out over the pastrami. I went through a whole packet of napkins and ended up using a fork to eat half of the sandwich, but I was very impressed. The latkes were warm and crispy, but I saw a woman with a plate of fries and I immediately had potato envy.

You must go to Katz.

Why are you still sitting at your computer?

Just don't forget your Katz etiquette (and wallet). Keep your ticket close. Be fast and furious when you order. Don't sit in the "table service only" zone, unless of course you plan on ordering from the incognito server. Go with an empty stomach. Eat. K'velen.

205 East Houston, at Ludlow Street
212-254-2246