Katz Deli; Heavenly Corned Beef

Yes of course I have THOSE friends. The friends that think they know everything about food. The friends who still bet against me in food related disagreements. The friends who now owe me a slice and a soda because they thought bruschetta was pronounced brushetta. And then there's that one guy, who thinks that whenever something is added to a dish he doesn't like, it "takes away the integrity," and this guy, as a matter of fact, thinks he knows where to get the best corned beef. "Hymie's Deli" he says, "has the best corned beef anywhere." Now Hymie's is certainly a respectable place, and it's been around for quite some time, but best corned beef anywhere? We'll have to see.

We arrived in New York around 6, and I knew exactly where I wanted to go. Take me to the corned beef capital of the world! I proclaimed (more like I begged my parents to go). We arrived at this corned beef and pastrami palace and I immediately glanced past the security guard at the door, past the menu up on the wall, and past the pretty girl a few seats ahead. I was here for one reason, and one reason only; the corned beef on rye with mustard.

(There I am, cleanly shaven, sampling a piece)

I gazed longingly at others who were there for the same reason. Finally my turn arrived, and I rapidly took my sandwich, piled high with blood red, marbled meat, back to my table, anxious to taste. First bite, yummmmmmmm. The beef was incredible delicious and flavorful, and unlike many a corned beef, it melted in my mouth. The flavors from the pickling spice were there, yet they complimented, rather than dominated the meat. A thin layer of mustard only added to the greatness that is the Katz Corned beef sandwich. My corned beef is tough and pails in comparison to this. I started of eating it slowly, savoring every bite, but I soon gave into temptation and devoured my sandwich shamelessly.

I will miss you Katz, and I'm sorry Hymie's, but I don't think I can eat your beef anymore.