NYP #3: Suicide, New York Style
One of the great things about New York is the proliferation of delis. Everywhere you look, you can see a New York deli. And the food at these fine establishments is always delicious. The meat is perfectly prepared, condiments add just the right amount of spice and the cheese is expertly...cheesed. Everything about a New York deli sandwich reflects the pinnacle of human accomplishment.
Notice, however, that I did not mention the bread. The bread might as well not be there. It only serves to provide a flimsy pretext to call the concoction a sandwich. You might find this hard to believe, but the bread is actually thinner than the deli meat it surrounds. The proportion of bread to non bread roughly equals the proportion of argon to all other gases in Earth's atmosphere.
And NY deli sandwiches are not exactly synonymous with healthy eating. When you order a sandwich, they hit you with about two pounds of fatty meat, one pound of pure cheesy goodness and 1 milligram of bread. It really is a heart attack on a plate. If you live in New York and want to kill yourself you have two solid options. Jump off a building or eat two deli sandwiches in one day.
With these descriptions and warnings in mind, i present to you:
This culinary monstrosity is brought to you courtesy of the Stage Deli, famous for naming its sandwiches after celebrities and (apparently) Broadway shows. This fine gourmet specimen contains corned beef, turkey and swiss cheese on a sliver of rye bread. I'll tell you right now that it was delicious. And despite my most valiant efforts, I was unable to finish it. After reaching the 80% mark I fell to my knees, humbled by its meaty goodness.
This sandwich also came with a side order of shame. After eating that much corned beef, turkey and swiss I felt ashamed of myself. I could actually hear my arteries hardening. I also had a brief glimpse of myself suffering a massive heart attack in about 20 years. So in summary, this sandwich evoked the following things: humility, shame, atherosclerosis and clairvoyance. Pretty impressive for a pile of meat, cheese, and bread - don't you think?
And if that wasn't enough, we then ordered a slice of New York cheesecake. I don't have a picture, but I can say that it was the richest cheesecake I'd ever tasted and it was about as big as a 4-month-old child. Topping myself off with that abomination unto the Lord sent me into an out-of-body experience. It was glorious...
Notice, however, that I did not mention the bread. The bread might as well not be there. It only serves to provide a flimsy pretext to call the concoction a sandwich. You might find this hard to believe, but the bread is actually thinner than the deli meat it surrounds. The proportion of bread to non bread roughly equals the proportion of argon to all other gases in Earth's atmosphere.
And NY deli sandwiches are not exactly synonymous with healthy eating. When you order a sandwich, they hit you with about two pounds of fatty meat, one pound of pure cheesy goodness and 1 milligram of bread. It really is a heart attack on a plate. If you live in New York and want to kill yourself you have two solid options. Jump off a building or eat two deli sandwiches in one day.
With these descriptions and warnings in mind, i present to you:
The Mamma Mia!
This culinary monstrosity is brought to you courtesy of the Stage Deli, famous for naming its sandwiches after celebrities and (apparently) Broadway shows. This fine gourmet specimen contains corned beef, turkey and swiss cheese on a sliver of rye bread. I'll tell you right now that it was delicious. And despite my most valiant efforts, I was unable to finish it. After reaching the 80% mark I fell to my knees, humbled by its meaty goodness.
This sandwich also came with a side order of shame. After eating that much corned beef, turkey and swiss I felt ashamed of myself. I could actually hear my arteries hardening. I also had a brief glimpse of myself suffering a massive heart attack in about 20 years. So in summary, this sandwich evoked the following things: humility, shame, atherosclerosis and clairvoyance. Pretty impressive for a pile of meat, cheese, and bread - don't you think?
And if that wasn't enough, we then ordered a slice of New York cheesecake. I don't have a picture, but I can say that it was the richest cheesecake I'd ever tasted and it was about as big as a 4-month-old child. Topping myself off with that abomination unto the Lord sent me into an out-of-body experience. It was glorious...
posted by Montgomery at 8:36 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home