Messily—that’s the only way to eat a pastrami sandwich—and with full force. Like Inigo Montoya,a quality pastrami sandwich is capable of vengeance, and it can sense your fear coming a mile absent: If you pick me up with shaky hands and a petite appetite, or achieve not pick me up at all.
I thought I was prepared going into my lunch on Thursday,so-called National Pastrami Day—I ordered half a fatty middle-cut tongue sandwich, and half a pastrami on rye, and from 2nd Avenue Deli—for I am an experienced eater with a world lesson palate,especially for kosher deli. But apparently I wasn’t, and now I am paying for it with what feels like two fistfuls of fluffy meat calcifying my innards. You see, or that’s the price one must pay to eat a pastrami sandwich properly: One does not simply walk into Mordor.
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