Creating Jewish deli meat is like a perfect combination of art and science. Some delis have found the ideal balance, while others are more content to satisfy the science part of it all and move on from there. I paid a visit to Chompie’s in Scottsdale to see how it would measure up against my admittedly high standards for Kosher-style delis.

For starters, the menu was exactly what I would want from a deli – massive and full of what seemed like massive sandwiches. While I could have gone for a simple Reuben or Hot Pastrami, I instead opted for the Triple Decker called Mitch’s Brooklyner. It was stuffed with pastrami, corned beef and brisket with three slices of double baked Jewish rye (as though there is some other sort of rye out there). There was literally nothing else in the sandwich. No cheese. No dressing. Nothing. But there was a side and I chose fries.

My triple decker sandwich arrived locked and loaded, ready for the taking. It looked like a daunting task to eat, but actually not too crazy because Chompie’s clearly adhered more to the science-y side of Jewish deli meats. Each was sliced to the exact same super thin-ness that really hid a lot of the texture that good corned beef, pastrami and brisket should have. Plus, while it was almost inevitable that one meat would get the shaft, why did it have to be pastrami? This was definitely the most flavorful of the trio, if not especially special. The rye was definitely solid and held up well against the onslaught of meats.

So while Chompie’s was not at all the kind of deli you tell everyone to go running to, it was definitely the kind of deli that you enjoy having in your neighborhood when you just need the comforts of the old country. There might not be much excitement or art to it, but when you stack up three meats it’ll do just fine.

After a long day of repenting and fasting, I needed a good Jewish meal to remind my body and mind what eating felt like. Since we were attending a comedy show later that night at The Laugh Factory, we decided to go to an ancient little deli next door called Greenblatt’s. And when I say ancient, I meant it’s been there since 1926. That means when my grandma was living in LA in the late ’40s, it was already old and she remembers its existence. To survive for 85 years anywhere, let a lone a big city where change is the only contant is quite impressive. I was eager to find out what kept Greenblatt’s ticking and to satiate my fully empty stomach.

We waited about 10 minutes for table, as we were clearly not the only Jews who thought Greenblatt’s would be a good break fast meal. Once seated, it was only a matter of time until I found the meatiest, awesomest-looking sandwich. It was the #5 combo – a triple decker filled with hot pastrami, corned beef, swiss cheese, twice baked rye, Russian dressing and cole slaw. I got mine slaw-less and it also came with a side choice and I went with kettle chips.

Soon enough, the sandwich was brought out by our friendly waitress, piled on high with kettle chips. Off to the side, though, there was an ominous pickle that I moved over to the girlfriend’s plate as soon as I could get a picture off. It was not worth the risk of allowing dastardly pickle juice to ruin my break fast. Once vacated, the sandwich was ready for devourment. It was nothing short of delicious. The corned beef was juicy and beefy, while the pastrami was well-seasoned and similarly juicy. And while these were good, the bread was actually quite amazing. It had just the right texture to keep the sandwich together, which was no small feat, and the crust was about as perfect as you can get. It was crispy, but didn’t give up a huge fight before succumbing to my teeth. And speaking of succumbing to my teeth, the sandwich was monstrously tall, requiring two full bites to get through and perfectly meaty.

It’s pretty clear why Greenblatt’s has survived for so long. They have some pretty great meats and although they don’t quite reach Langer’s levels, they were certainly worthy of revisiting, whether to break the fast or otherwise.

All-too-often restaurants claim to have “the best” blah blah blah in the world, but sometimes there is a restaurant that makes no claim to have the best of anything and lets the customers tell the good news. Langer’s Deli is one of the latter. Located in the not-so-posh neighborhood of MacArthur Park, Langer’s has become known for their pastrami. Many who have tried it have claimed it is the best ever, so to do the unvegan world a favor, I had to try it out myself.

Since they are only open Mon-Sat and only until 4 PM, I went for some lunch on a Saturday. The outside of the place says they serve Hot Pastrami Sandwiches, but makes no claim to have the best. Inside looks like the average diner or deli, nothing pretty, but definitely comfortable. I didn’t really need to look at the menu, other than to ensure I ordered the correct pastrami sandwich. Lucky for me, their best was sitting nicely at the top of the menu, simply called Hot Pastrami. The menu described this sandwich as, “…a Select Cut of Beef, Sugar-Cured and Seasoned as Corned Beef, Then Slowly Smoked for Tenderness and Tantalizing Taste and Flavor, Then Covered with Choice and Costly Spices.” How could any of this be bad? Well aside from pointing out that the spices are costly, which I felt was a sort of strange thing to do, considering the sandwich was a modest $11.95.

So I ordered may pastrami, with an appetizer of latkes (potato pancakes) for the table to share, then waited. About five minutes after ordering, I shot up from the table and chased down my waiter. I had forgotten to order without a pickle and wouldn’t allow that fluorescent vegetable to ruin my sandwich. Thankfully I found him and made my request. The latkes came and were nice and thick. Not quite like my momma used to make, but definitely the type I expect from a Jewish deli. These went great with apple sauce and weren’t nearly as oily as they could have been.

Then the sandwiches came.

Mine was beautiful. It was stacked with thick-cut pastrami like I had never seen before. And not a pickle in sight! Amazingly, it looked a whole lot like the pictures on the walls, which meant that either the sandwich always looks awesome or that they didn’t try to make the pictures unrealistic. The sandwich was thick, but not so thick that I couldn’t get my mouth around it. I was afraid to ruin this work of meaty art, but I took my first bite and fell in love. The pastrami was perfectly seasoned and at just the right level of warmth. It needed nothing else on it and although my friends had ordered things like Russian dressing, cheese and cole slaw with their sandwiches, mine was perfect just as it was. Even the bread knew its role in the sandwich was simply to help get the meat to my mouth without altering too much of the taste.

I also had the opportunity to try out the corned beef, which was like the pastrami except without the spices. I was expecting it to be a big downer after that pastrami, but this was also some of the best corned beef I’ve had. The difference was that with the corned beef, it was good to have Russian dressing and cheese to add some flavor to the sandwich.

Wow, Langer’s was awesome. I had some pretty high expectations and this deli more than met them. Langer’s Deli is now the barometer by which I shall judge all Jewish-style pastrami sandwiches.

The Stage Deli of West Bloomfield seems a bit out of place. Sandwiches are named after Broadway shows and aside from the one picture of Eminem, everything reeks of New York. Nonetheless, The Stage Deli is a staple Jewish deli in West Bloomfield Township. Rather than limiting themselves to sandwiches named for classic shows and actors, The Stage has modernized itself by throwing in such shows as Mama Mia and even movies like Casino Royale.

Since pastrami and corned beef have always seemed to be the barometer for how good a deli is, my eyes shot to the sandwich called Lion King. Since I am often confused with the king of the lions, this was not surprising. The sandwich was a choice of pastrami or corned beef with swiss cheese. Instead of making that terribly difficult choice of meats, they offered to mix me up a batch of combined pastrami and corned beef. I also got a side of Russian dressing in case of emergency.

Shortly before my food arrived, I realized that I had made a grave mistake: I forgot to order without a pickle. At all other restaurants I would be upset because they did not warn me of the pickle on the menu, but at a deli, I could not be upset. Delis always serve pickles. This was terrible, because I knew that any moment my waitress would be walking out of the kitchen brandishing a plate of meat, cheese, bread and a pickle. How shameful I felt as an unvegan. As my plate arrived, not all of my worst nightmares came true. Yes, there was a pickle, but no, the pickle juice did not attack my sandwich.

As soon as I could, I passed this pickle onto a relative and took a look at my sandwich. Unlike the New York deli of a similar (same) name, this deli stacked my meat high, but to an edible level. I had to stretch my jaw all the way to take a bite, but didn’t have to remove any of the meat to do so. I knew I wouldn’t die of a protein overdose. The sandwich was pretty standard, but not in a bad way. The pastrami and corned beef both tasted good, but not great. Swiss cheese was a nice touch. The bread was especially good, but overall the sandwich just made me content and didn’t amaze me. The Stage Deli is a good stop for a good sandwich, but it’s not terribly special.

Over at the Pico-Robertson area is Factor’s Deli, a Jewish-style deli with delivery! Sometimes I wonder why more restaurants don’t deliver, but luckily I don’t need to wonder about that for Factor’s.

For some reason, I wasn’t in the mood for pastrami, so it took some time to figure out what I wanted to order. Eventually, I found the multi-meaty sandwich to conquer my hunger. This was the combination sandwich entitled No. 1, featuring turkey, corned beef and swiss cheese to ensure that it is un-Kosher. It also had Russian dressing and was served on triple-layer rye bread. As a bonus, it also came with a choice of two sides, so I chose the unhealthiest of all, fries and homemade chips.

About 45 minutes later, the meal was delivered. I unpacked the brown bag excitedly, looking forward to my meatwich. What I found was beyond my expectations, the sandwich was stacked gigantically with meat, so much so that it took at least two bites to take out a vertical chunk. The only downside to the sandwich was that the corned beef was a bit fattier than I prefer. I guess not everyone can deliver awesome lean corned beef like Deli Unique.

The side dishes were pretty good as well, and all the elements compounded into a meal that I couldn’t finish in one sitting. At first the price tag of $15.95 seemed a bit pricey, but for a single meal that became two, I couldn’t complain.

Of all the great delis in Metro Detroit, Deli Unique in West Bloomfield has always been the deli of choice for my family. This is due, in no small part, to their delicious corned beef. They have a pretty big menu, but it’s the corned beef that keeps us coming back.

As always, I made sure to get a corned beef sandwich with simply beef and rye bread. Rather than get regular corned beef, though, I like to get it lean at Deli Unique. I’m not sure what they do there that is different from everywhere else, but when you get lean corned beef at Deli Unique, there is no loss of taste or increase in dryness that usual results from a loss of fat. Because of this, I really have no need for condiments on this sandwich. I also have no need for vegetables, which would ruin the experience entirely.

As a child eating this sandwich, I couldn’t believe how much corned beef they stuffed between the two slices of bread. There was no way I could finish it. Now, as I rapidly polish off both halves of the sandwich, all I want is more.