What has risen from the ashes of 9/11 is a renewed determination. New Yorkers have demonstrated a grit and perseverance of which we can all be proud. They've showed us a new definition of courage.
So, in honor of the city and its citizens, we are focusing this week on a cuisine that grew up in the streets of the Big Apple: New York City delicatessens.
The deli is one part fast-food joint, and one part grandmother's kitchen. Some of them serve simple cafeteria-style, their customers seated at booths. Others employ black-tied waiters, their chic patrons at linen-draped tables with elaborate fresh flowers. Some occupy a whole block of prime Manhattan real estate, whereas others scratch out a living in a tiny cranny of an outer borough.
But all share one trait in particular: The fare is going to be big, the sandwich equivalent of skyscrapers. We're talking hearty, heavy soups; massive platters of beef, turkey or pork, inundated with hot gravy; and a numbing selection of bagels, cold cuts, cheeses, breads and different kinds of cakes, pies and cookies.
New Yorkers eat the way they live — outsized.
Pickle Barrel Deli, Seminole A fixture on Seminole Boulevard for 18 years, the Pickle Barrel sits rather anonymously among the shops of the Oxford Square Shopping Center. Owned by Gene Zlydasek Jr. and his mother, Mary Ellen, it is a little neighborhood hangout that, in addition to restaurant meals, supplies its patrons with cheese, cold cuts, fresh bread and catered items.
Pickle Barrel's big menu is typical deli-style: a terrific selection of everything from fried chicken breast sandwich to smoked whitefish salad or chocolate egg cream — all served in a friendly, efficient manner.
My dining companion would have none of the beef brisket or pastrami, not even a turkey club; she wanted a simple salad, a plain, grilled cheese sandwich ($3.75) and French fries ($1.75). I ordered the "finger sandwich trio," a platter showcasing three kinds of sandwich: hot corned beef, pastrami and chopped liver, all set on pumpernickel bread ($7.95). It arrived with a choice of soup cup, or fresh coleslaw. I chose split pea soup.
When the food came, it was predictably generous. A big oval plate held her salad ($3.75) of simple romaine, ripe, red tomatoes, onions, carrot and green peppers, with a homemade Thousand Island dressing. The grilled cheese sandwich was a lovely buttery color, suitably gooey and accompanied with a huge pile of truly excellent french fries.
It's unusual to find decent french fries. "Clean oil — that's the key," explained Gene, the chef. Soft inside, and crispy and crunchy outside, the huge mound of lightly salted, steamy fries, drenched in ketchup, won dish-of-the-day honors.
My soup was so-so, its broth a little thin, but my sandwich platter more than made up for it, with two inches of sliced meat set upon tender, pumpernickel bread. As a side dish, I ordered potato pancakes with applesauce ($2.75), and like the french fries, they showed serious attention to detail. Fried exactly right, they were crisp, firm and delish, lathered with applesauce.
Only three desserts resided on the menu, and we tried two, the N.Y. cheesecake ($2.75), which was nothing special, and the rice pudding ($2.15), which was pretty special. Smooth and creamy, it was heavy with rice and carried an intoxicating scent of cinnamon.
Lucky Dill Deli Open only since February and occupying part of the first floor of the Lykes Building at the corner of Ashley Drive and Madison Street, the Lucky Dill shelters a big, bright dining room that seats 100 at simple wooden tables and booths. Owned by Jason Mitow, it does double duty as a deli and restaurant but offers bakery and catering services as well.
On the walls are photographs of famous New York City locations and street signs to match: Bleecker Street and Flatbush Avenue, Fifth and Madison Avenues. There are lots of pictures of the New York City skyline, but only a few featuring the World Trade Center, and mercifully none of its horrific, flaming demise.
On one side is a cafeteria-style line — you place your order first, then pick up the finished dish and find a table. On one side, a long glass case holds every imaginable kind of pastry.
It didn't take long to attract crowds, and, now, at noon, it's jammed with people, hungry people, talking, laughing, waiting in line, scouting for tables, helping themselves to drinks or condiments. With all the noise and the crowd, it even sort of feels like New York City.
The huge menu features 15 kinds of sandwiches, 14 sandwich combinations, super heroes, platters, open-faced, club and grilled sandwiches, burgers, four kinds of soup, salads and hot dogs. There are even veggie wraps, Cubans and "light" meals.
We started with pastrami bean soup ($1.95/cup, $2.95/bowl), a dense mix of beans, vegetables and big chunks of pastrami in a rich, tomato-y liquid flavored with dill. It was tasty and so filling it could have made up a meal in itself, washed down with a glass of the restaurant's strong, fresh-brewed iced tea.
I was curious to try a Reuben wrap ($5.95), similar to a Reuben sandwich, but encased in a garlic flatbread. I ordered it at the register, but inching along the cafeteria line, I became stranded in the mob scene at the sandwich counter. Remembering that New Yorkers expect you to speak up if something's amiss, I summoned my most authoritative voice and shouted though the din that my order seemed to be lost.
The busy cooks quickly found it, and out it came, nestled in a plastic basket with a side of blue and red tortilla chips and a big pickle. Its 2-inch filling of corned beef was tender, its hefty wad of sauerkraut sublime, but it lacked its requisite layer of Swiss cheese, maybe because of the mix-up at the sandwich counter. If I had known where to look, I could have slathered it with Russian dressing from a squirt bottle at the condiment table.
No problem: I ate it anyway, top to bottom, sauerkraut dangling in voluminous shreds, meat working its way out to drop on the plate, and wrap collapsing in a heap in the mouth.
My dining companion enjoyed half a hefty corned beef sandwich on whole wheat ($4.95), which came with a cup of almost-too-sweet potato salad and a kosher dill pickle.
All around us, people noshed on blintzes, whitefish and lox, potato knishes and an assortment of five bagels: raisin, cinnamon raisin, poppyseed, onion, egg and plain.
For dessert, we tried a chocolate eclair ($2.25), a cannoli ($1.25), and a slice of New York cheesecake ($2.50), none of which was bad, but none particularly stood out either. Still, I can recommend the Lucky Dill Deli because its ethnic delights and frenetic style sure represent a welcome change of pace, a taste of the Big Apple right here at home.
Contact food critic Sara Kennedy at sara.kennedy@weeklyplanet.com or call 813-248-8888, ext. 116.
This article appears in Sep 11-17, 2002.