Kosher restaurants are a conundrum for me. I want to embrace them because of my Jewish heritage, but I also really want to mix dairy and meat, or throw in some bacon. But, Kosher restaurants have figured out a way to make the food palatable and I went to Kitchen18 in Scottsdale to find out just how palatable they could be.

It didn’t take much time for me to settle upon the Pastrami Burger.. Although I must say that the massive Chinese menu was intriguing (Jews and the Chinese have a long, rich history). The burger was topped with the aforementioned pastrami and “friend” onion. The fried (yes, friend was a typo) onion wasn’t like onion rings or anything, so I passed on them. I had a choice of two sides, and opted for Cajun curly fries and steak fries because that’s how I roll.

The burger was a thing of beauty. Just look at that burger up above. It was massive, it was sexy, and it was still somehow not topped with cheese or bacon. Interestingly, the burger had been seasoned with a number of ingredients, including lemon. This was only a bad thing when I found a seed, but otherwise the various flavors were fantastic. The pastrami, however, could have been a little better. It was kind of dry and kind of tough, but undoubtedly the best topping a Kosher restaurant could have produced for a burger. The fries were great companions to the burger, although I am always partial to curly fries and these delivered.

Kitchen18 definitely did what it had to do and likely produced one of the most beautiful burgers I have ever photographed. But it was also a $19 burger, which is kind of a crazy price to pay for a burger when you don’t keep Kosher. So, I’ll keep Kitchen18 in mind for next time I need to please the lord almighty, but until then I will continue to seek out places that will happily melt some cheese on top of my beef.

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.

In a city filled with all kinds of fun events, one event (aside from a plethora of farmer’s markets) can be counted on every week. It’s Smorgasburg, which originally started over in Brooklyn, and it’s kind of like a miniaturized, hipster version of 626 Night Market. On my first venture, I made my way to Ugly Drum Pastrami.

Truth be told, once I saw the pastrami being sliced up, I couldn’t see myself eating anything else. The trouble was that the price was pretty high, so I only snagged a half sandwich. It was sliced up and weighed precisely before being added to the bread.

I took a bite and…it was nothing short of fantastic. The rind was packed with peppery flavor (among many other things) and the rest had a smokiness that made it kind of like a mix between Jewish pastrami and BBQ brisket. Probably most important of all, it was super tender.

This was undoubtedly a perfect mix of BBQ and Jewish food. I’d hate to call it fusion, because that makes it seem like it was more intentionally mixed together. Rather, it’s just a different take on an old world favorite and one I could get behind any day.

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.

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 couple of years ago, some dude named Ilan Hall from Top Chef opened a restaurant in downtown LA called The Gorbals. The food scene of LA was pretty excited, and so was I, but downtown is a bitch to get to. So I waited. And waited. Until finally, a 30% off deal came to me from Blackboard Eats and I realized I had a golden opportunity to brave the nighttime downtown traffic.

I tried in vain to get a reservation, but despite being 2 years old, it was still impossible to get one at a good hour. In lieu of this, the girlfriend and I decided to take an adventure and risk a long line. Arriving around 6:30, we found no line and a good amount of empty tables, so we figured we were golden. And we sure were wrong. Apparently every table was reserved and would be until sometime past 9:00. This was absurd, but fortunately the bar had some seats and the full menu, so we made our way there and checked out the goods.

The signature dish, or at least the most well-known, of The Gorbals is the Bacon Wrapped Matzoh Balls. Yes, this is sacrilege on a plate, or what some might call a fusion of Ilan Hall’s Jewish and Celtic ancestry. We tried them out and found them to be an interesting dish. A matzoh ball out of soup has a strange texture and is not necessarily bad, but also not possibly as delicious as my mom makes them. They came in a creamy horseradish sauce that I would usually expect on gefilte fish, instead of matzoh, but it worked well enough. The bacon wrapping was a nice touch, but I felt like these were more of a tasty gimmick than a truly amazing dish.

But the next three items we ordered really were amazing. The first was Bone Marrow. This guy came with toast, walnuts and garlicky oyster mushrooms with malt vinegar. Unfortunately, The Gorbals has a no addition, subtraction or substitution policy, so the mushrooms remained, but my girlfriend was more than happy to eat them up. I love me some bone marrow and this was definitely a nice cut of bone. It wasn’t as jelly-ish as marrow can sometimes be and the texture worked really well with the toast.

The toast with the bone marrow, however, was not the only toast to be had this evening. We also ordered the Welsh Rarebit, a big slice of toast topped with beer cheese and a fried egg. Beer can be a pretty difficult thing to cook with, but whatever they used for this rarebit was awesome. It had a distinct beer-y taste that was probably from a heavy stout or porter, but didn’t have the nasty or skunked beer taste that can sometimes come from cooked beer. The egg could have been a bit runnier, but coupled with the beer cheese, it didn’t taste dried out at all.

Finally, there were the Chicken Croquettes. These fried little balls of awesome were served with a sambal honey mayo, which gave them a nice, sweet spiciness. As opposed to other croquettes I’ve consumed, these weren’t very oily and avoided tasting dry by having that sambal honey mayo.

Surprisingly, we were both full after those four dishes. I expected to be hungry for more, and certainly I was ready to try The Gorbals again, but my full stomach stopped me from ordering anymore. Surprisingly, when the bill came, even the pre-30% price was really quite reasonable. You don’t really expect that from a “Top Chef restaurant and it was pretty refreshing. The Gorbals is definitely worth visiting, but just be prepared to eat around some vegetables.

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.

Who doesn’t love a good pun? Or even better, who doesn’t love an awesome compound word. Combining giant and enormous gave us ginormous. Combining lion and tiger gave us liger. And combining terrible and institution gave us Ohio State University (yes, I know that is technically three words, but I stand by it). Now joining the ever-growing list of compound words is a restaurant named MexiKosher in (surprisingly) Pico-Robertson. I love a good compound word as much as the next guy, but could this new Kosher Mexican restaurant make a happy unvegan? I intended to find out.

The set up of the place is pretty awkward and we we walked in we had no idea where to order or who to order from. Eventually, we found our way to someone willing to help us out. It seemed they were trying to do things the Chipotle way, without pork or cheese, but still hadn’t gotten the organizational efficiency together.

Of course, as an American, I lamented the lack of cheese. Jew or not, I expect cheese on my Mexican food. To those who know true Mexican food, however, the lack of cheese should not have been surprising. Few Mexican dishes actually involve cheese, so I was still excited. What didn’t excite me, though, was the price. The cheapest meat offered clocked in at 10.99 for a dish.

I chose one of these 10.99 dishes, the grilled chicken tacos. This came with three tacos and my selection of toppings, which I simply limited to guacamole (an extra 75 cents) and cilantro. They were incredibly generous with the guac and I ended up with guacamole tacos with a bit of meat in each. I also got some beans and rice in my family picnic-style divided plate. Then, at check out, we discovered something amazing. Checking in on Facebook resulted in a 20% discount. Now I don’t do that Facebook check-in stuff to remain incognito (just don’t ask me about foursquare), but my buddy checked in and we piggybacked his discount.

We snagged a table and I went to work devouring the tacos. What I found was pretty delicious. These weren’t some sort of Jewish fusion, but simply tacos prepared with delicious Kosher meat. The chicken was moist, with a hint of citrusy goodness, and then there were the crazy sauces offered. These sat near the register in condiment bottles, keeping the place unique compared to your ordinary Mexican salsa bars. These bottles changed the game in two ways: 1) No more accidentally mixing salsas with an unsteady ladle and 2) they could be easily shaken up to ensure even distribution of flavor. I tried a few of them and found each to be pretty tasty and creative. The Chipotle Marmalade and Serrano Aioli were definitely my two favorites.

Yet, as delicious as this all was, I realized that I couldn’t justify the price of Kosher. Not when I could walk down the street or stroll up to a taco truck and get a similarly tasty Mexican meal for half the price.

Mexikosher is certainly a good addition to Pico-Robertson. For those who keep Kosher, it certainly provides the necessary taste. But for the treif in this world, MexiKosher is probably only worth a dabble.

On my way home from the bar one night, I was unsurprisingly jonesing for some grub. The trouble was that I was driving through the area of Pico and Robertson, which isn’t exactly known to be a late-night food hub. But just when I thought my snack options were going to be limited to whatever leftovers I could find in my fridge, I saw a shiny beacon of hope that seemed to be a food truck. When I pulled over to explore, I found that although not exactly a truck, I had stumbled upon some sort of mobile food purveyor. It was called Kosher Grill on Wheels and a schwarma sounded like heaven to me (and with any luck, eating Kosher would bring me one step closer to that heaven).

I’m not sure how much food they had to offer, because all I really saw was that spinning spool of schwarma meat. I ordered one and watched as the sliced off bits of chicken and tossed them on the griddle for further heating. While waiting for the griddle, they asked me what kind of wrap I wanted and what I wanted in it. The choice of wraps were pita for 7 bucks and laffa for 8. I was a bit surprised by the high prices, but that’s the price you pay for Kosher, so I figured at that point I may as well go with the laffa. As for inside the wrap, there were mostly vegetables, but there was also hummus, tahina sauce and a spicy sauce. I asked for all of these and the guy slathered them on the laffa as we waited for the chicken.

When it was done, he wrapped it all up, sliced it in half and threw it in a bag for me. I headed home ready to chow down on some Jewish meat.

I opened it up and it smelled great, but was a bit small for the 8 dollar price tag. Nonetheless, eight bucks would be a small price to pay for late-night pleasure. Unfortunately, pleasure wasn’t all I got from this schwarma. Although the chicken and sauces were delicious and well-seasoned, every few bites I would find some bit of chicken I couldn’t bit through. It wasn’t hard enough to be bone, but whatever it was, it was unwelcome in my mouth. I would have to spit out these pieces for fear of busting a tooth or choking and that made me feel sad. I really thought Kosher Grill on Wheels could do better, especially for the price. It may have been Kosher, but if that’s the kind of meat they are slinging then treif sounds much better.

As a Jew who clearly doesn’t keep Kosher (see any entry on bacon, cheeseburgers or shellfish), I sometimes find it fun to eat a meal the way my Kosher brethren do. In LA this means a trip to Pico and Robertson, which my girlfriend affectionately calls “Little Israel,” although actual Israel can hardly be called “big.” Kosher restaurants either serve meat or dairy, so to take care of my unvegan needs, this Kosher pilgrimage took me to the meat-based Haifa Restaurant.

Haifa serves traditional Middle-Eastern foods like schwarma and kebabs, which is nice since you wouldn’t really want to put cheese or other dairy foods with them. I perused the pita sandwiches and decided the Fried Schnitzel sounded just delightful. When I ordered, I asked what came inside the sandwich and the waitress told me it was the schnitzel, hummus and salad. Actually, that was what came in all their sandwiches, so instead of choosing something different, I just ordered it without and hoped there would be enough schnitzel and hummus to fill the thing.

Before my sandwich came, the waitress brought out a bunch of different miniature side dishes. This was all good and well for the veggie munching crowd, but there wasn’t anything to offer for unvegans. Oh well, it was a little bonus that I hadn’t been expecting anyway and it kept the rest of the table happy. Suckers.

My pita sandwich came and looked perfect. Not a vegetable in sight. I chomped in and found it pretty enjoyable. The combination of breaded chicken with pita was a nice double dose of carbs that I always appreciate and the hummus helped keep it moist. If anything, this could have used a bit more hummus, but it was pretty good as is. The meat was actually pretty awesome and was definitely the quality I expect from Kosher meat. Of course, this came at the somewhat premium cost of $8.95. Yet, the premium wasn’t huge when you consider the cost of some sandwiches in LA that don’t even adhere to strict ethical and religious codes.