I’m always up for a meal at a Jewish deli. It’s not that I’m a member of the tribe — I should be so lucky — but a pastrami on rye, with coleslaw and a pickle on the side, hits the spot.
If I’m headed to the L.A. County Museum of Art, I invariably stop first for lunch at Langer’s Deli, which even some New Yorkers will admit makes the best pastrami in America. In the Fairfax District, I’ve been to Canter’s; in the San Fernando Valley, to Art’s and Brent’s; in Beverly Hills, to Nate ‘n Al’s (where, some two decades ago, I spotted Henry Winkler); in downtown and Santa Monica, to Wexler’s.
On vacation, I have noshed at Wise Sons in San Francisco, Kenny and Zuke’s in Portland and, in New York City earlier this month, PJ Bernstein, not to mention Russ and Daughters on a previous visit.
To my knowledge, the Inland Empire has only two Jewish delis, both in the Coachella Valley: Manhattan in the Desert in Palm Springs and Sherman’s in Palm Springs and Palm Desert. I haven’t written about them yet, but I’ve eaten at both and have notes scribbled on my receipts.
This is all by way of background to explain that when I read that the Skirball Cultural Center in L.A. has an exhibition devoted to deli culture, I was ready to go. Loxxed and loaded. The exhibit’s clever title: ” ‘I’ll Have What She’s Having’: The Jewish Deli.”
(That’s based on the best joke in “When Harry Met Sally.” After Meg Ryan’s character fakes a you-know-what at lunch at a deli, pounding the table and shouting “yes! yes! yes!”, a matron at the next table tells a waiter enviously, “I’ll have what she’s having.”)
The Skirball is a most excellent Jewish educational institution and museum off the 405 (at 2701 N. Sepulveda Blvd.) near the Getty Center. In brief, getting to the Skirball from where I am, and really from where almost anyone is, is a schlep.
(Schlep: “to travel in a difficult and arduous manner,” according to the exhibit’s “Yiddishisms” dictionary of Jewish slang.)
But I wanted to go, and so I made a reservation, bought a ticket online and showed up as scheduled late Saturday morning. I timed my visit to get lunch afterward. Like an army, I travel on my stomach.
Ashkenazi cuisine is the food of the Jews of Central and Eastern Europe, brought with them during a wave of immigration to New York City that began in the late 19th century, the exhibit explains. By the 1930s, NYC had 5,000 delis, and other urban centers around the country, even Indianapolis, had delis too.
As restrictive housing covenants that limited Jewish home ownership were lifted, Jews moved to the suburbs and delis followed.
L.A.’s standout role in the Jewish deli is a big part of the exhibit, of course. It’s worth noting that the exhibit is debuting at the Skirball, where it will stay through Sept. 18, and then will migrate to NYC.
Matchbooks, photos and menus help tell the story. Included are Brent’s, which opened in Northridge in 1967, and the aforementioned Sherman’s Deli. Sherman’s was, a photo caption informs us, founded in 1963 by Sherman Harris, which means next year it’ll hit 60.
Canter’s is represented by a waitress uniform, cash register and cigarette machine.
Deli-themed video clips from “Seinfeld,” “Curb Your Enthusiasm, “Mad Men” and more, including “When Harry Met Sally,” play on a loop.
In recent years some chefs have reimagined the deli, taking an artisanal, pre-industrial approach to food preparation, with some success. And that’s welcome.
Walking through the exhibit, it was clear to me that we can’t be purists about the deli. It’s an artifact of the 19th and 20th centuries and represents a particular experience, place and time.
A lot of delis have gone under in recent years and the exhibit memorializes a few of them: Mort’s in Tarzana, Eddie Saul’s in Encino, Drexler’s in North Hollywood and Billy’s in Glendale, the latter via its restored neon sign.
A year ago, Greenblatt’s in West Hollywood closed after 95 years. That’s where F. Scott Fitzgerald, who lived nearby, got a candy bar right before he died of a heart attack. Don’t blame the corned beef.
But there are successes. Langer’s celebrated 75 years in June. Canter’s is still spry at 91. If you support them, or other survivors, you can kvell (“feel happy and proud”) about their continued life.
After spending an hour-plus at the exhibit, it was time for lunch, right on schedule.
I set Google Maps for Art’s Deli in Studio City. A year ago, housesitting for a friend in NoHo, I had lox, onions and eggs at Art’s one morning for breakfast. This time I got pastrami on rye, a half-sized version, plus coleslaw and a bowl of sour cabbage soup.
Ordering the soup was a small flex, with delicious results. I don’t go to delis often enough to risk wasting a meal on an arcane entree like whitefish salad or creamed herring. I have no old-country bona fides to uphold. I’m just a WASP who likes to eat out.
When my sandwich arrived, taking up most of my plate, I wondered if the server had misheard me and brought the full-sized version. It was cut in half and everything. But as I’d had a light breakfast, I dug in.
I believe the Yiddish verb “fress” would have accurately described my technique: “to eat vigorously or in large quantities.” Although, rather than overdo it, I did skip the cheesecake.
The bill indeed listed my item as a half sandwich. I was full.
So, a deli exhibit, followed by a deli lunch. It might be overstating matters to say that I was verklempt (“overwhelmed with emotion”), but there was no reason to kvetch (“complain”).
Anyway, as day trips go, it wasn’t chicken fat.
brIEfly
Days when Riverside County is above 100 degrees may increase from 39 to 55 — whew! — over the next 30 years, according to a new study by the First Street Foundation, a climate-focused research organization. In Palm Springs by 2053, the number of days when it’s 111 or above will go from 7 to 19. It’ll be a dry heat, but plenty of it.
David Allen writes Friday, Sunday and Wednesday, but probably not in 2053. Email dallen@scng.com, phone 909-483-9339, like davidallencolumnist on Facebook and follow @davidallen909 on Twitter.