Monday, January 24, 2011

Me And Pastrami McGee

 LA is filled with hundreds of greasy spoons that boast colorful signage typically touting the words: burgers, pastrami, burritos. While many of these fondas are best used in an emergency, I did decide to investigate the role of pastrami (outside of a Jewish deli) in the larger SoCal comida universe. Pastrami (from the Romanian pastram meaning 'to keep') is usually made from beef that is brined, dried, seasoned, smoked, and steamed. The result when done properly (as we all know) is tender, packed full of punch, and nothing short of magnifico. I began my meaty research with a slice of the Old Country at Sahag's Basturma where the surly staff crank out Armenian style pastrami (basturma) and soujouk (dried, spicy sausage) pressed in french bread or by the pound. Waiting for my sandwich I felt like I was back in Yerevan (never been) playing checkers with a heavily-cologned colleague and reading crumpled newspapers without photos all day, but when my order came up I hit the streets eager to find a picnic spot.
Before I motored onward I took a quick bite and was astonished. The seasoning tasted strangely similar to Indian pickles but what kind of lunatic would apply Hindu spices to beef? To ponder this obvious contradiction I snaked up to Barnsdall Park to finish what I started.
After diving in, I realized the answer is less theological and more culinary. Similar bouquets are used to zest basturma: cumin, fenugreek, garlic, paprika. Served with some olives, peppers, and thinly sliced pickled radish this cured curiosity hit close to the numbers. In the future I'll know to score my basturma cold cut to eat with huevos (as is popular) or on pita bread with fresh cucumber and tahini sauce.
After digesting for a few days, the next item up for bids was an all expenses paid trip to Pasadena where The Original Tops has been turning cabezas with their succulent pastrami since 1952. Just when you thought The Hat was money, and it certainly is, here comes Tops with a briefcase full of Wilsons. I ordered the Famous Pastrami (Au jus, stacked pastrami, mustard, pickles on a toasted French roll) saddled with shoestring papas, pickled carrots, and chiles all washed down with an icy lemon ole. This juicy sammie was like sinking a Bob Barker hole in one and winning both showcases (the crappy one with furniture plus the cool trip to Rio) on the showdown. With that said, maybe I am serious enough to tackle Langer's delicatessen but until then how good does this look? Come on down!

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