In the days before I go to New York City I am doing an imagined diary. This week I’ve written imagined diary entries and we can compare them to the real diary entries next week. Note: I have never been to the places in these imaginings… yet. This is the second one.
Pastrami on Rye! I have no idea what that means really but somehow those words have just come out of my mouth and gone into the ears of a spotty kid who seemed to understand what I said and has told me to wait. So now I a doing as I was told.
Pastrami on Rye! I have no idea what that means really but somehow those words have just come out of my mouth and gone into the ears of a spotty kid who seemed to understand what I said and has told me to wait. So now I a doing as I was told.
Katz is apparently a world famous New York
Deli. It’s so world famous that I only heard about it for the first time in the
week before I left for the States. Someone said go to Katz and being open to
any recommendation, go to Katz is what I did.
What greeted me was a bewildering site. It was mayhem of the highest order. If I thought the queuing system in Marks and Spencer was random, this was completely insane. At first it intimidated me. I stood meekily in a line clutching the ticket they’d given me on entering. I was getting overtaken by regulars and overwhelmed by the noise, the smells and the chaoticness of it all. It all looked a little grubby, a little shabby, like it had seen better days, could the pastrami really be THAT good’?
To be honest I was on the verge of giving up. I’m a bit of a scaredy cat really. If something intimidates me, I am more than likely going to give up and convince myself it was not that good anyway. But there is a part of my brain that is a real macho manly man. I promise you it is a small part but every now and then it stands up and gets counted, this was one of those times.
What greeted me was a bewildering site. It was mayhem of the highest order. If I thought the queuing system in Marks and Spencer was random, this was completely insane. At first it intimidated me. I stood meekily in a line clutching the ticket they’d given me on entering. I was getting overtaken by regulars and overwhelmed by the noise, the smells and the chaoticness of it all. It all looked a little grubby, a little shabby, like it had seen better days, could the pastrami really be THAT good’?
To be honest I was on the verge of giving up. I’m a bit of a scaredy cat really. If something intimidates me, I am more than likely going to give up and convince myself it was not that good anyway. But there is a part of my brain that is a real macho manly man. I promise you it is a small part but every now and then it stands up and gets counted, this was one of those times.
‘Pull yourself together man.’ It said in its no
nonsense tone. ‘You didn’t come down to the Lower East Side just to turn around
and go back again. It’s a line not an invading army. You’ve got nothing to
fear.’ My internal monologue was raising its voice. ‘Now push yourself to the
front of that line and get yourself a Pastrami on Rye.’ I was wondering why my inner voice was doing
its best Archer Stanley impression , but like Archer it was talking a lot of
sense.
The sandwich was amazing. I can eat quite a bit
but this was nearly too much for me. I’ve still no idea what pastrami is but whatever it is, it was tender, juicy
and gorgeous. I am sure my doctor would approve but luckily he’s back in
Prague.
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