Growing up, one of the simple joys we had was "going to the deli". We could walk. When I was very young, I had to go with Christine or Edward - and probably their friends which meant having to be ridiculed or ignored the entire time - but when I hit the ripe old age of about 10, I started going by myself.
Sometimes I'd just go simply to go. I could go by myself, so why wouldn't I?
If I had enough money, I might buy a Chocodile. {If you don't know what a Chocodile is just throw yourself down the stairs right now, you haven't lived anyway.}
If I was having an especially wealthy day - read: my Dad left money in his jeans pocket, unattended
and probably a few cigarettes for the walk but that's for another post - I might be able to afford a sandwich, chips and a Pepsi. Perhaps even a Chocodile on top of that.
Sometimes it was just candy. The Gabriellis always had buckets of candy ranging price from $.01 to $.25 so you could really load up with a dollar or 2.
**Sidebar - When did we lose the symbol for the word "cent"? If I could have written 1c instead of $.01, wouldn't that have been cute and more to the point? Why do such simple, happy things have to become so complicated? **
When I was about 13 my Dad decided I needed a job he said it would "keep me out of trouble". Perhaps he was right, in theory if not practice, but really - it made cash & cigarettes even more available.
Anyway.
He was friends with Mr. Gabrielli and Mr. Gabrielli was kind enough to hire me for $4 an hour after school. The sisters and Mario taught me all about food, stocking, sweeping and quick math at the register. I never dared eat anything they didn't offer me directly and I was always on my best behavior. I basically worked in their home and was the only non-Gabrielli there so to be anything other than humble would have landed me on the sidewalk outside.
The only real workable skill I took from that job was how to peel a potato quickly and easily. Boil it first. The skin will come right off while it's hot...
if you can handle the heat on your fingertips. The 4 fingered (
total. on both hands. 4.) Mr. Gabrielli taught me this neat little trick while he laughed at my young, soft fingertips and said a bunch of stuff in Italian about how I was spoiled and/or lazy.
After that stint at Brewster Hill Deli I went on to work for Sal & Mike at the North Brewster Deli for several years. I would work, quit, get a "real" job - probably at the mall - and then come back. I learned how to fry cutlets, marinate mozzarella, pronounce supressata and mortadella, cook on a gas stove top, slice meat thin and quick (while managing to keep all my fingers in tact), stack a sandwich with more deli meat than you would buy for a family of four, pour bottomless cups coffee for the sleazy mysteriously-jobless-but-wealthy men of Brewster that would ask me how my mom was doing but never my dad... the hours spent at that deli are some of the happiest, most gratifying hours of my youth.
That is where I learned that hard work paid off. I learned that smoking 52 cigarettes in a 6 hour shift is completely normal, even if you are only 15 years old. I learned that no amount of Dove or Tide would get that dried meat and fried oil stink off of your jeans or out of your skin & hair.
I could not eat coldcuts while I was pregnant with Abby. Michele brought me a sandwich from NBD in the hospital after I delivered. And it was good. It was very good.
Anyway.
Jay is always saying that what our town needs is a good deli. We should get a small-business loan and buy something on Main Street and get a good deli/bakery going. If there was any small business I feel qualified to run, it would be that. I know good food, I know good customer service and I know what people need from a good deli.
Quick Service.
Quality Meat.
Delicious, home made food.
That's it.
Wanna make hot lunch Mon-Fri? Good.
Wanna add a Soup of the Day? Go for it.
Cater to large groups? Absolutely.
But the bottom line is this: Serve delicious, quality food quickly and affordably.
That last word is where this state seems to get it wrong. Maybe it's a sign of the times. Maybe it's a population thing. Are there not enough people around here? Are we so conditioned to trust a Subway or a Panera or a Starbucks with our needs?
Can we no longer get a ham & cheese on a roll with lettuce, tomato & mayo and a pepsi for $5??
I love Panera Bread, but it's not a deli.
I love this local joint,
Rein's, but it is SO not a deli. It's a diner with a take-out counter.
Delicious? Absolutely! But over-done, the whole place is just over the top.
I don't want to wait an hour to sit at a deli. I want to walk in to the crowd of hungry people waiting, shuffle around till I find a place I am comfortable waiting - not in line, not at a table, not with a hostess who has taken my name, just with my body language and stance will anyone know I am in line and not being waited on yet. When a counter person is ready they will yell "Who's next?" and I will yell "Ham & Swiss on a roll, mayo, lettuce, tomato."
No one will ask me what kind of ham. What kind of ham!? There is only ONE kind of HAM. I did not say Virginia ham, I did not say prosciutto, I said Ham. That only means Boars Head, thin. There is no room for interpretation.
Maybe I will add a "potato salad" or "with a pickle". That's that. 2 minutes later, I am out the door.
I want fresh bread and a whole Mozz, salted.
I want a "combo" - there is not question what I am asking for.
Today I drove into a place called
Max Bibo's Delicatessen. The location looked promising, it wasn't flashy or fancy. I wondered if there was a good deli right her, right on the Silas Deane and I was missing it, all these years in Hebron complaining about bad cold cuts & packaged breads and here was this deli, right under my nose!!
So, I pulled in. I wanted some soup and a fresh bread to bring to Jay's Gram.
$30 later, and without bread, I drove away. Enough Chicken Noodle soup for -hopefully- 4 people and a handful of homemade Mac & Cheese made me $31 broker and 100% surer that CT, in fact, knows nothing about delis.
I know how many hours Mike & Sal poured into their deli. I know there was a bed in the 5x5' office and that their wives and kids visited them in the deli probably more often than they visited together in their homes.
I would not want to be the proud owner of something I would never have a minute to enjoy. But I desperately wish someone would.
There is prime real estate on Main Street right now. My brain flies into motion every time I drive by that old Mobil - vacant - on the corner of "all high school kids walk by here" and "all moms drive by 4 times a day". It's crazy ripe for the business.
I just don't have that kind of dedication.
And that, my patient readers, is likely the exact reason that a good deli is so hard to find. That might be the very sad realization this blog post just brought me to.
