Scottsdale is pretty sterile city. This is not inherently a bad thing, but it is a thing that seems to preclude the concept of hidden gems. And, yet, I heard word of not just a hidden gem, but one right around the corner from me. Plus, it could only have had a more apt name if it was right next door. It’s called Convenient Corner Market and it dishes out sandwiches with bread baked in-house every day.

While most of the sandwiches had veggies included, I eyed one that I expected would satisfy me. It was called the Beefstrami Sandwich, with roast beef and pastrami as its meaty base. I ordered it without the pickles, onions, mayo and mustard, but kept the cheddar cheese it came with. I also asked for some thousand island in there to keep it all moist.

I wanted to love this sandwich. I wanted to so badly. In each bite I took there was an innate desire to fall in love, get married, have children and settle down in some suburbia with this sandwich. But wanting to love and loving are two different things. It packed the flavor one should expect from a hot roast beef and pastrami sandwich, yet the texture was oddly rubbery and gave off the impression of boiled meat.

I am, however, undaunted. This deli is truly convenient and I do not take such convenience lightly. I also owe a place like this a second chance, and you might be wondering why. The reason is none other than the fact that it is run by Wolverines and I do not take a variable such as that lightly.

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.

Growing up near Detroit and then living in LA, I must admit I have been spoiled by good delis. Thus, when I moved to Pittsburgh I was shocked to learn that apparently the deli scene was pretty terrible. Because of this, it took me nearly two years to get to Smallman Street Deli – the biggest Jewish Deli in town.

They make their own pastrami and corned beef and whatnot, so I ordered their Signature Sandwich with pastrami. It also came with mustard, on specialty rye. Instead of mustard I ordered Russian dressing and also asked for a slice of Swiss cheese on the sandwich. It was served warm and with a stupid pickle that I promptly removed (in defense of Smallman’s, it was listed on the menu and I forgot to order without). As for the pastrami, it was pretty different from the Jewish pastrami I’m used to, which is typically similar to corned beef with an extra spiced rind.

But in this case, different was good. It had some really solid flavor that went well with the bread, cheese and dressing. A thicker cut would have improved the sandwich by adding some nice texture to the meat, but overall I couldn’t argue with the flavor.

In general, it wasn’t the most impressive deli because at the end of the day I want some pastrami that leaves me thinking about it days later, but it’s also not bad in a pinch.

To long road between Pittsburgh and Upstate New York doesn’t exactly run through the most populated part of the country, and when it comes to stopping for (non-fast) food, the options are pretty much State College or Scranton. Due to hunger and a desire to get a taste of another Big Ten campus, I made State College my destination and found Carvers Deli & Barbecue.

True to its Big Ten-ness, Carvers had sandwiches named for each Big Ten mascot. I hoped that the Wolverine would be worthy, but it was basically just chicken salad. Fortunately, the Buckeye wasn’t any better. I ended up picking the Cornhusker, which came with smoked beef brisket, cheddar, bacon, lettuce, tomato, onion, mayo and horseradish on ciabatta. I ordered mine without those veggies and picked mac and cheese for my side.

The result was definitely surprising as far as brisket sandwiches go. Unlike your typical BBQ spot, this was some deli-esque thin-sliced meats. Fortunately, when combined with cheese, bacon and horseradish, it made for a pretty decent – if not overly exciting – sandwich. The mac and cheese was actually pretty amazing and left me wanting more. At the end of the day, Carvers was tailor-made for college students – decent food at great prices. And while the flavors might not be life-changing, in college all that matters is that they get the job done.

The Jewish influence on Montreal’s food scene goes beyond the bagels and into the realms of meat. Specifically smoked meat and there is no better-known place to get the smoked meat than at Schwartz’s, which has been making the stuff since 1928. Today Celine Dion weirdly has some sort of ownership in the place, but I went hoping this had little to do with the popularity.

The line to actually be seated was out-the-door crazy, but Schwartz’s has a to-go area with a few counters that we took advantage of. I went with the regular Smoked Meat Sandwich, which consisted of the meat, mustard and rye bread. Usually I would have ordered without the mustard because I’m just not a fan of the stuff, but keeping it just seemed like the right thing to do. When I unwrapped my half-pound of meat it looked pretty tasty. When I dug in, I was met with a pretty great-tasting smoked meat sandwich. The smoked meat, by the way, tasted kind of like a midway point between corned beef and pastrami and that midway point was awesome. So awesome, in fact, that I really didn’t mind the mustard and the sour flavor it added.

It may be a touristy spot, but Schwartz’s is definitely worth a visit for anyone looking to expand their knowledge of cured meats or just to get a great Jewish sandwich in French Canada.

It’s no secret that Squirrel Hill is the heart of Pittsburgh’s Jewish community. Typically such a place would be froth with delis, bagel shops and falafel, but not Squirrel Hill. Sure, some of those places exist, but not like one might expect. Luckily, though, this has left room for a new type of Jewish restaurant, called Nu. Calling itself a “Modern Jewish Bistro,” Nu means “well…?” in Yiddish and came into town at the end of last year from the people who brought the world Pamela’s. Since then, it has set about redefining Jewish food. After all, it’s time for a creative take on tradition.

Fortunately for those who don’t know Jewish food, Nu has definitions posted on the walls for all sorts of items that appear on the menu. And the items should all be familiar to Jews, but with slight twists. For example, we started out with their Latke Tots and Mummy’s Meat Blintzes. The Latke Tots were like traditional Jewish potato pancakes, but somehow prepared like a tater tot and absolutely awesome. However, they could have been even better if served with apple sauce instead of sour cream. Then the blintzes, which are like a Jewish crepe typically filled with ricotta-like cheese and fruit, had the lovely twist of being stuffed with brisket. Again, delicious.

As for my main course, I ordered a little sandwich called T.O.M. This guy was served open-faced with “nice” challah as the base and topped with slow roasted brisket, grilled Kishka (a wide type of sausage usually filled with beef and some sort of grain as filler), and gravy. No word on what “nice” meant, but I assume it was like a “nice Jewish boy.” It was a delicious sandwich, however, when I ordered it I asked for my pickle and cole slaw to go to my wife and the waitress failed to do so. Fortunately, both were far removed from the real food (with the slaw being served in a Chinese take-out box) and I was able to pass the unwelcome food over.

Perhaps the coolest thing on the menu was what my wife got. It was called the Reuben Knishwich, which was a reuben sandwich stuffed inside a traditional knish pastry. A knish is usually just stuffed with potato, but this may have blown the potato away. The only trouble was that sauerkraut was mixed up inside and difficult to avoid. Yet, if I had ordered for myself I like to think that could have been avoided.

I was pleasantly surprised with my experience at Nu. Growing up with food like this and seeing a new take on it was quite nice. And although any instance where you would expect bacon was replaced with crispy chicken skin, Nu is not Kosher and has no trouble mixing dairy with meat. It’s a real mitzvah.

A while back, I wrote a glowing review of Langer’s Deli and their legendary pastrami. Well, it seems they are having themselves a bit of a 65th birthday! Situated in MacArthur Park, it is truly a testament to their pastrami that they have survived. But while turning 65 is usually time for retirement, Langer’s is going a different route and offering their famous pastrami sandwich for free!

That’s right, on Friday, June 15th and Saturday, the 16th, Langer’s is giving away their #19 hot pastrami sandwich for free. Having eaten the sandwich myself, I can vouch that this is the best pastrami I have ever had. If there’s better pastrami out there, I haven’t eaten it.

So all I really have to say is go. Take this opportunity. How often do you have the chance to experience the greatest anything for free? And no, don’t tell me the best things in life are free. They aren’t. But Langer’s is, and only on June 15th and 16th.

If you do go, I will accept your thanks later. Also, don’t go at 6:30 on Friday, because that’s when I’ll be there and I really don’t want you getting between me and that amazing cured meat.

For more details, check out the Langer’s site.

Happy Birthday Langer’s!

I must confess that I have lived quite literally two minutes (by foot) from Victor’s Meats & Delicatessen for the past six months, yet had not once set foot in the place until this past weekend. “Why?” you ask. Well, the answer isn’t simple. It’s also not difficult, because there is no answer save for my foolishness. And it is pure foolishness because Victor’s is a dream come true.

While part of the place is straight-up butcher, Victor’s also serves up sandwiches and assorted pre-cooked foods and salads and such. I was in for a sandwich, but I got more than I expected.

First, I have to say that Victor’s is slow, but not in the annoying “I’m being ignored” way, but in the “wow, they really spend a lot of time with each customer” way. In a world of fast food, I found this incredibly refreshing, even if it did mean my starving belly didn’t come into contact with meat for an extra 7 minutes or so.

I decided to go with their hot pastrami sandwich, which ordinarily comes with a plethora of toppings unfit for an unvegan. Instead, I simply went with muenster cheese and Russian dressing. I watched as my helper sliced the pastrami himself, loaded up the bread with muenster and toasted the sandwich and my mouth got into some deep watering. I also decided to get myself some mac and cheese as a side, because one can never have too much cheese.

In total my meal cost about 10 bucks and took my bag of grub back home to take care of business.

Business was delicious. The pastrami was definitely not the best I’d ever had, and got to be a bit salty at times, but still made me very happy. I was more than happy to have muenster cheese, which simply is not offered as an option at enough places. Honestly, I’m not sure of the last time I saw it outside of my own fridge. The Russian dressing was a nice addition of flavor and kept the sandwich from getting too dry, although the pastrami was plenty juicy. Finally, there was the bread itself. I must say, while it did not compare with bread like that of Bay Cities, it was still quite good. It held up strong and I feel like it would be great for something like a Philly cheese steak as well as simple deli sandwiches like mine.

The mac and cheese made for a nice side, but wasn’t really anything special. This is not necessarily a bad thing, as Victor’s isn’t some revolutionary deli, but it still could have been a little more interesting.

So, Victor’s is awesome. No, it is not the best sandwich in the world. No, it is not the fastest service in the world. But you know what, the place is damn endearing, the prices are damn good and it is seriously worth checking out, even if you are more than two minutes away.

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.

Long before there was a Disney movie called Pinocchio, there was a classic Italian story featuring that classic wooden toy. Pinocchio’s (no relation) in Burbank is much more about those Italian roots than it is about the Disney story. And although that Disney classic has stood the test of time, there is one thing it certainly cannot do – feed you. That’s where Pinocchio’s comes in.

Like any good Italian deli, their sandwiches are loaded with cold cuts, meatballs and sausages. One of their sandwiches was called the Monte Carlo and although the ingredients weren’t listed on the wall menu, I was quite curious about what could be found within. When I asked, the guy behind the counter said it was made with Italian cold cuts, provolone cheese and tomatoes. Despite the vagueness of his description, I couldn’t say no to such a sandwich, but I did say no to the tomatoes.. I ordered a large and, once again staying true to its European roots, I found that ordering a sandwich to eat in rather than to go cost an extra $1.45. I was tempted to get it to go, but I was with a group and instead coughed up the $6.95.

In a strange twist, the sandwich came with a choice of two salads. At first I was disappointed because I wanted no such thing, but then I saw they had a pasta and a fruit salad. I asked for those and the man told me they cost more. So once again, I was disappointed. I got some spinach in the hopes that one of my eating companions would want it (no one did), and couldn’t bear to pick another salad. Some combo.

Finally, with salad pushed away and sandwich in hand, I was ready to eat. At first glance, the bread to meat ratio seemed overwhelming, but I found out in the first bite that this light and fluffy bread would do nothing to distract me from the insides. As for the meat, I found there were distinctly three different cold cuts. One was unquestionably mortadella, while the other two appeared to be two salami varietals. One was thinly sliced and floppy, while the other may have been a soppressata. It was sliced thick, had a much smaller circumference than the other meats and was actually a surprisingly good addition to an otherwise more simple sandwich. Well, whatever the meats were, they were quite tasty. In fact, it was almost as tasty as the Godmother, but gets edged out by the fact that the bread at Bay Cities adds so much to their sandwiches while the bread at Pinocchio’s is simply there as a carrying vessel for delicious meat.

Pinocchio’s is a surprising little gem in the heart of Burbank. While I disagree with their “combo” options and their eat-in pricing, I will be back next time I need my fix of Italian sandwich wizardry in the valley.