Hot Pastrami, Bless My Soul (Apologies to Meat Loaf in Rocky Horror)

A proper pastrami sandwich.

My friends down here have been known to give me minor amounts of crap for being a Yankee and missing the joys of growing up with southern food. And I’ve freely admitted to having found chicken fried steak way too late in life to suffer from childhood obesity (us Northerners had to use Oreos), and still don’t know what the hell a fried pie is.

But, at the risk of being ostracized by the few friends I actually have in South Florida, I’ll tell you right now I’ll take my New York City culinary upbringing any day. Fried everything (including Twinkies) can’t hold a candle to fresh falafel from Mamoun’s (yeah, technically I guess that’s fried, too), Indian food on sixth street, pizza from Ray’s (the one on 11th and Sixth, not the 358 copies), sushi at Tomoe, panelle specials from Ferdinando’s in Brooklyn, steak from Peter Luger’s, dirty water hot dogs from one of the skanky carts on the street (and Nathan’s in Coney Island for those late night runs), fresh hummus from one of the joints on Atlantic Avenue, Korean barbecue in midtown, dim sum in Chinatown, and Vietnamese from the joint south of Canal St. that I can’t remember the name of.

Savvy readers will note that I’ve just compared regional cuisine to a list of restaurants that serve food from other places, and that’s true. I suppose I’m just that kind of a jet-setter style setting bitch. But don’t think there’s no such thing as regional food in New York. Take, for example, the simple pastrami sandwich.

I got into a conversation about this, specifically about pastrami, with one of the best chefs in South Florida, Allen Susser, at the opening of Taste, the Gastropub in Delray Beach. Chef Allen grew up in Brooklyn, though he’s been in South Florida for 30 years, but his eyes lit up when we started talking pastrami.

We agreed that there are few things finer than a hot pastrami sandwich on rye bread with mustard.

“What about cole slaw?” asked a mutual friend standing nearby, a Southerner who knows food.

“Cole slaw’s o.k. on the side,” replied chef Allen, “but the sandwich stands alone.”

“Isn’t that dry?” asked our friend.

Clearly she’d never had proper pastrami, warmed on a flattop and slid between two fresh slices of rye bread, topped with mustard.

Allen and I explained what happens to pastrami on the flattop, how when it’s warmed up every bite starts to explode with meaty, moist delight. But really, you need to eat one to really understand it, and I simply hadn’t found anything down here that took me back to New York and one of those fat-boy pastrami delights.

Until a couple of days ago, that is, when that same friend invited me to lunch at Kevin’s Dockside Deli in Palm Beach Gardens.

Blurry cell phone shot, sure. Apropos though, as it recreates the tears of joy in my eyes at the time.

Walking into the joint immediately reminded me of a good Brooklyn deli, but it was the husband and wife owners, Kevin and Phyllis Dennis, that sealed the deal. That and the hot pastrami sandwich they served me (actually served me – they bring your sandwich out to your table once it’s made).

It had all the key ingredients for a good one: quality pastrami piled about a foot high, warmed up enough to make it moist and delicious, on soft rye bread with mustard. Traditional potato salad on the side, with a couple of pickles (I don’t actually eat pickles, but my lunch companion was happy to take them off my hands).

And how was it? It practically brought tears to my eyes. Best pastrami sandwich I’ve had outside of New York, bar none, and certainly up there with my favorites in the city (frankly, it’s been so long since I’ve had one in New York that there’s no way to compare them).

In fact, I was so ecstatically happy with my sandwich that I didn’t want to trade halves with my friend for a “Docksider” – an even thicker sandwich with both roast beef and pastrami, cole slaw and dressing.

But after all of Allen’s and my gushing, I knew I must, and in the end I was glad I did – the Docksider was tremendous as well.

Add to the great sandwiches a full compliment of Dr. Brown’s soda, Kevin and Phyllis’s warm reception and wonderful personalities, and it’s a little chunk of Brooklyn, right here in my back yard.

So now maybe the friends that grew up eating Southern food will stop looking at me with pity when I tell them where I grew up. I had it just fine, thank you.

Kevin’s Dockside Deli is at 2401 PGA Boulevard. Stop by and find out what you’ve been missing.