20. PICADITAS DE JAIBA at HECHO EN DUMBO

Hecho en Dumbo has nothing to do with a lovable little elephant, but in fact refers to the neighborhood where this Mexican gastropub was first created. They’ve since moved to the East Village, but their philosophy of refined, seasonal Mexican food in a drink-happy setting remains. We sat at the Chef’s Table and had a pretty memorable meal.

We started with these picaditas de jaiba, which are little corncakes of flavor. On top of the firm buttery patties, sits a delicious salad of fresh jumbo lump Dungeness crab meat tossed with a gently biting jalapeño oil and topped with ripe avocados. A squeeze of lime brings out the brightness and lightness. These small bites are too easy to gobble up regardless of the neighborhood. Price: $8

19. PASTRAMI RUSS at RUSS & DAUGHTERS

You know I’m a big fan of the pastrami sandwich. I’ve spent months searching for the best version of the deli staple. That meaty, smoky goodness is a heart attack that’s more than worth it. But wait a minute, a pastrami sandwich minus the meat? Why would anybody do that?

If you’ve ever been to Russ & Daughters in the Lower East Side, you’ll understand. This is a classy old-time shop that specializes not in smoked meat, but rather smoked fish. If you want the hard stuff, you’ll have to go next door to Katz’s. But they make a pastrami sandwich here that rivals the classic version. You get to pick your bagel of choice for the Pastrami Russ, but trust me when I say you need to order it on pumpernickel. Not only will you get the approval of all the guys behind the counter, but these are the flavor combinations that make the most sense. With a generous schmear of mustard, crisp sauerkraut, and the freshest smoked salmon you’ll ever taste, you won’t miss the actual meat for a minute. And you may live a little longer. Price: $10.45

18. CHIMBORI JALWA at TAMARIND TRIBECA

Crab cakes tend to be the same everywhere you go. Aside from the bread crumb to crab meat ratio, most versions are pan fried, served with citrus and an aioli of sorts. The chimbori jalwa appetizer at fancy Indian restaurant Tamarind Tribeca was unlike any crab cake experience I’ve had before.

The colorful tower of meat was loaded with plenty of sweet lump crab meat and tinged with some Indian spices, ginger, and garlic. It had a restrained hint of curry with lots of balanced sweet (tamarind) and spicy (chile) flavors. Served on a bright spiced tomato sauce with scattered scallions and corn kernels, it was complex and delicious. And made for my new favorite crab cake in the city (just beating out Del Frisco’s baked version from last year’s list). Price: $15

17. PIKE QUENELLES at MILLESIME

Millesime really is a little gem: a hidden, French brasserie that can work as a relaxing cafe or a fine dining seafood restaurant. It’s located above the bar in the Carlton Hotel and it will transport you to Paris. And not just because of the ambiance, but because of the expertly prepared seafood and classic dishes. Take the pike quenelles, which are made in the style of Jean-Louis Dumonet. I don’t know much about this old French chef, but I do know he made some amazing quenelles.

You don’t see quenelles too often in New York, especially not like these. The delicate little dumplings are absolutely delectable, so soft and tender in a rich tomato lobster butter sauce that begged to be sopped up. Reminiscent of an airy seafood sausage, they fell apart like a buttery soft matzo ball of the sea. Très bien! Price: $14

16. TOSTA MATRIMONIO at TERTULIA

The new Spanish tapas hotspot Tertulia is more than just a bar for celebrity watching. It’s one of the best restaurants of the year. Truly any of the dishes I tried could have made my Top 100. The fried eggplant was spectacular, as was the sliced acorn-fed Iberico ham, and I haven’t even mentioned the tender as sin ribeye. But the one dish that blew everything out of the water were the little anchovies that inconspicously lay on heavenly toast points.

They’re referred to as both “tosta matrimonio” and “black and white anchovies.” The two meaty fish (the black are cured and the white are pickled) are simply halved and arranged on a toast-bed of sweet roasted tomatoes, creamy tangy sheep’s milk cheese, and a generous drizzle of aged balasamic. The dish is a perfect example of balance and brightness with the sweet cheese and tomato pairing perfectly with the salty, acidic anchovies. And amazingly, the delicate dish don’t even taste fishy. Maybe that’s why so many celebrities come here. Price: $9

NUMBER 70: BROCCOLI SANDWICH at NO. 7 SUB SHOP

The menu at No. 7 Sub Shop, which is located inside the Ace Hotel, is bizarre. And even I wasn’t really sure what to make of it. The odd combinations sounded exciting, but a sandwich simply called Broccoli was confusing. Who wants to eat a broccoli sandwich? But after being blown away by the General Tso’s Tofu (a strange combination that was delicious!), I figured I’d take a chance.

Listen to these ingredients: broccoli, lychee, pine nuts, and ricotta salata cheese. What the – ? It works wonders. The earthy roasted broccoli is spectacularly tender and plays off the salty cheese and the tangy lychee. The pine nuts add the perfect crunch. This may be one of the most bizarre sandwiches I’ve ever encountered, but it’s definitely one of the best. And there’s no meat anywhere. Imagine that! Price: $9

NUMBER 69: AL PASTOR CEMITA at EL PASO TAQUERIA

El Paso Taqueria is my go-to restaurant whenever I visit my friends who live in the food lacking area of East Harlem. They live off the 103rd train station. A little further north or south has plenty of options, but in this area there’s nothing terribly exciting (especially now that La Fonda Boricua closed). But El Paso Taqueria, which has a few other locations nearby and recently expanded from a take-out shop, serves delicious, authentic Mexican food in a grown-up comfortable dining room.

I’ve eaten in a few times, but usually still do the take-out or delivery. And once I discovered their cemitas, it’s hard for me to try anything else. The flattened, grilled sesame bread holds any number of spicy, sweet ingredients. I’m partial to the smoky grilled pork (al pastor) accompanied by stretchy salty oaxaca cheese, sweet marinated pineapples and onions, and large intense chipotle peppers. It makes my trip to this neighborhood worthwhile. Price: $6.95

NUMBER 68: BURGER at BURGER & BARREL

When I went to lunch at Burger & Barrel in the touristy, shopping district of Soho, I felt like I was in a chain restaurant in a shopping mall somewhere in middle America. I’ve heard this place fills up and is quite a scene at night, but for lunch it was reminiscent of my suburban, food pathetic childhood. Maroon 5 playing on the radio didn’t help.

But the food, especially the famous Bash Burger, was nothing like the grub you get at Applebee’s or TGI Fridays. Chef Josh Capon (of high-end fish bar Lure) concocts an amazingly delicious, perfectly cooked burger. The caramelized onions and bacon jam bring a rich, sweetness to the charred meat patty. And just in case there wasn’t enough flavor, he tops the bun with two fried thick onion rings. You can see why this burger won a People’s Choice Awards. Has Ruby Tuesday’s ever done that?? Price: $15

NUMBER 67: SAUSAGE, BROCCOLI RABE, MUSHROOM, & TALEGGIO PANINI at BOCCA LUPO

I had heard raves about Bocca Lupo since they opened in 2006 and walking by, it looks like a very romantic, lively restaurant. But the menu I had seen online didn’t scream “dinner” to me. This restaurant is mostly known for their tramezzinis and paninis. And while there were plenty of cheese, wine, and sliced meats listed, I kept putting it off because I prefer more than a little grazing when I go out for dinner.

Turns out I greatly underestimated Bocca Lupo. We had meatballs, lamb chops, a nice salad, and a wonderful panini. All were filling and tasty and we left spending just a moderate amount of money. The panini was the panini of my dreams. I’m still dreaming about the classic combination of fennel-studded pork sausage, bitter and tender broccoli rabe, soft and meaty mushrooms, and melted nutty taleggio cheese. The crusty bread was a phenomenal crunchy beginning to the garlicky flavors inside and the side of cauliflower was greatly appreciated and more refined than a bag of chips. Looks like Bocca Lupo got the last laugh. Thankfully so. Price: $11

NUMBER 66: TURKEY CLUB at COURT STREET GROCERS

Poor turkey. Aside from Thanksgiving, I think it gets beat up quite a bit. It’s usually amped up with chemicals and turned into a thinly sliced deli meat that’s mostly bland and dry. But the turkey revolution has begun. More and more high end deli/restaurants are making a moist, tender fowl.

Court Street Grocers specializes in interesting and artisanal food products, but at the back counter they have a menu of some well-thought out, tasty sandwiches. I’ve had a few amazing specialities there, but the Turkey Club has got to be the best. It’s a double layer of turkey goodness. The first layer is a mound of turkey confit (that’s right, it’s cooked in fat), which brings even more flavor to the already superior dark meat. And the second layer houses juicy, moist white meat that’s been marinated and roasted in herbs. Smoky bacon, a schmear of mayo, crisp iceberg, and a fresh tomato slice round out the top layer. It’s sandwiched with Orwasher’s white bread and puts all other turkey clubs to shame. Makes me want to join an actual Turkey Club. Do those even exist? Price: $12

There’s a photograph on the wall at Jay and Lloyd’s from the 1940′s that shows dozens of deli men at an association meeting together. They were all happy and seemingly good natured. And they all owned delis in New York. Unfortunately, a big meeting like that can’t happen in this city any more because there are now just a handful of old Jewish delicatessens left. And many of them are no longer independently owned.

But when I started talking to Lloyd Lederman and he showed me around his restaurant, I realized the passion and dedication of these deli men is still alive. Lloyd has been working in delis pretty much his whole life. There are also photos of him with his father and grandfather at the family’s former delis. In 1993, Lloyd opened Jay and Lloyd’s (with his partner Jay) on Avenue U in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, quite a schlep from the subway.

I was surprised this place is only 18 years old because it has the feel of a much older, classic Jewish deli. Perhaps it’s the vintage photographs on the wall celebrating the culture, perhaps it was the pastel pink color scheme, or perhaps it was the genial staff and passionate owner.

I didn’t meet Lloyd until after I finished my sandwich, so I’m confident I got the same treatment as everybody else. Although after Lloyd discovered I had a blog, he offered me complimentary homemade apricot rugelach (you can taste the difference) and whipped up a sample of his zucchini pancakes, which had a sweeter, earthier flavor than the typical potato variety.  He was also more than eager to pose for a photo with his signature hot dog hat (they’ve received much attention for their kosher franks).

But I was here specifically for their corned beef and pastrami sandwich. They had been on my radar during my official deli meat search, but I just never found the right moment to travel all the way out here. I had some time on a Saturday afternoon recently and I hadn’t stuffed myself on deli food in quite a while, so I figured my arteries could use the work out.

The place was rather empty when I showed up. It was a little after lunch on a very hot weekend, so maybe some people were at the beach. Or I guess, this kind of comfort food is not the usual light summer fare. Or it could be because the neighborhood has changed from being mainly Jews and Italians to being predominantly Vietnamese. Regardless, I was treated politely and waited on like at a real restaurant.

This is one of the few delis where customer service is evident and the waiters seem to care about your experience. I didn’t waste any time and I ordered their Classic (the corned beef/pastrami combo). Lloyd later mentioned his Smokin’ Joe sandwich which is extra smoked pastrami that is then char-grilled. I sort of wish I had tried that. But my Classic was pretty classic.

The cole slaw and pickles that came out were incredibly fresh and flavorful. Both types of pickles were crispy and full of flavor (one was sour and garlicky; the other was sweeter and salty) and the cole slaw was creamy without being overwhelmed by the mayo. And then came my sandwich. I had asked for a half sandwich, which some delis are more resistant about then others. The waitress told me they have a Jr. version with less meat. That was perfect for me, since I’m trying to watch my boyish figure, you know.

The sandwich came out very hot, almost cooking the soft rye bread. I opened it up to douse on the mustard and realized this was the perfect amount of meat. The first bite was warm and buttery, the meat melting away to some notes of garlic, pepper, and plenty of salt. I found the corned beef pretty exceptional – it was flaky and tender and truly fell apart to the touch. I thought the pastrami was a little bit tougher. It had lots of layers of fat (as pastrami tends to) but didn’t fall apart as easily. And the pepper notes were a little overwhelmed by the buttery fat and the salt.

But it was a good sandwich and just what I needed (my doctor would disagree), since I hadn’t eaten one of these things in months. But meeting the passionate and generous Lloyd and having a true old-fashioned deli experience in Brooklyn, is worth any trip to the doctor. Although, I bet he’s glad there are no longer hundreds of Jewish delis in NY for me to slowly kill myself eating.

Is Jay and Lloyd’s the best corned beef/pastrami in NY? They get an 8 of 10 for their incredibly tender corned beef, comfortable service and atmosphere, and interesting takes on classic kosher food (that zucchini pancake was truly something), not to mention Lloyd’s entertaining shenanigans and love for what he does.

According to Wikipedia, a scuttlebutt is a cask used for dispensing drinking water in a nautical setting. Aside from the fact that the food and café have a nautical theme, I can’t quite figure out why the girls at Saltie in Williamsburg used the term scuttlebutt to name one of their amzing sandwiches. Could it have more to do with the slangy use of the word, meaning “gossip, or rumor”?

Either way, scuttlebutt is a funny sounding name and whether or not it makes sense with these particular ingredients, it ended up on Time Out’s list and so I made my way back to Saltie on a Saturday afternoon for some high sea sandwiches. I had stumbled in here last year and absolutely fell in love with The Captain’s Daughter, which even made my own Top 100. And I was excited about being forced to try new items, although I did also order that old standby and it was delicious as usual.

The Scuttlebutt was another major sandwich. It featured Saltie’s famous chewy foccacia bread with a wonderful brown outer crust and a chewy soft center. And in true Saltie fashion, a hint of sea salt on top separates this bread from all the other impostors out there. I can’t begin to tell you how perfect the bread here is. They could put a bunch of dirty seaweed inside and the bread would bring it to life, I’m sure.

But the fillings are much fresher and well-thought out than sea scraps. The ones for the Scuttlebutt supposedly change based on the season, but you can expect a hodgepodge of flavors and textures. In addition to the recurring hard boiled egg, we also got some spicy greens (arugula perhaps?), sweet briny black olive pieces, salty capers, crunchy tangy pickles, crumbly feta cheese for bite, and finally a nice serving of creamy garlic aioli. It was filling and complex, not to mention wonderfully delicious. It could be slightly salty for some people, but I think it’s well-balanced. And who expects a place called Saltie to go light on the salinity? You might just need a scuttlebutt filled with water to wash down this scuttlebutt sandwich. At least that’s the scuttlebutt going around town.

Would Saltie’s Scuttlebutt Sandwich make my Top 100 of the Year? It’s just as good as the other amazing sandwich, partly thanks to their spectacular bread, which earns it a 9 out of 10.

When you call a dish the “adult version” of something, it seems to me you’re implying that either the flavor combinations are so sophisticated that it takes a developed and mature palette to truly experience the nuances, the dish contains alcohol, or it’s pornographic. And I’m afraid to say that the grilled cheese sandwich at The Commodore, which is called the Adult Cheese is none of those.

This sandwich has been touted as the best new grilled cheese in the city by many publications including Time Out. But the things that make it stand-out from your typical grilled diner sandwich didn’t really make me feel very adult. If anything, I felt like I was eating junk food which is something I really only loved to do when I was a kid.

The Commodore feels more like a bowling alley than a bar or restaurant. Everybody who walks through the door for the first time looks around trying to figure out what to do. Do you go to the bar? Seat yourself at a table? Turn around and run from the crowd of hipsters? The lighting and walls are very dark and blue and this would not be a place in which I would immediately want to order food. We finally figured out that you order at the bar, take a number, and grab a table if you can find one. And then you wait. And wait. And wait.

It must have been about 35 minutes before we finally got our grilled cheese and the Hot Chicken Breast sandwich, which tasted like more junk food, but with tender meat and serious, if slightly overpowering hot sauce.

The Adult Cheese is an artery-clogging mess of dairy products. Each bite of the crisp buttery sandwich drips out revealing a concoction that more resembles cheese soup or dip than actual cheese. It’s a mixture of white cheddar, pimento (a Southern delicacy that is now corrupting NYC), cream cheese, mayonnaise, and poblano peppers. It’s as gooey as it gets with creamy, buttery flavors and is really over the top. The flavors were good, but there was a bit of sourness that I didn’t love and the poblanos didn’t add the expected heat. And I could only handle a few bites before my stomach cried out for help. And my hands needed some wiping off.

So I’m still not sure why this is called the Adult Cheese. Perhaps because of the semi-spicy poblanos? Ironically, I felt like the oldest person in The Commodore and I was probably enjoying the sandwich the least. I think a more appropriate name for this would be the Just Graduated College Cheese Sandwich because it seemed like that was the clientele here and might be something I would have enjoyed back then. I don’t have the patience or the desire to deal with this immature, crowded environment to get a taste of something that isn’t much tastier than a jar of Velvetta. If this is what it means to be an adult, I never want to grow up.

Would The Commodore’s Adult Cheese make my Top 100 of the year? It was just too much for me so even though the cheese was gooey and the bread unbelievably crisp and buttery, I can’t give it more than a 5 out of 10

When I was a kid living in Florida, I would come home from school still hungry from my brown bag lunches, take some bologna, set it on a plate, and nuke it in the microwave until it got crispy and aromatic. I honestly thought I was the only one who did that.

Well, I guess not, because one of the list items is a Fried Bologna Sandwich at Seersucker, which specializes in modern takes on Southern classics – just like every single new restaurant in Brooklyn. And while Florida is technically in the south, believe me when I tell you the state has nothing to do with Southern food. I must have just been channeling culinary ideas from neighboring states.

Although its named after a city in Italy, bologna is an American sausage through and through. It’s usually made from a combination of cured beef and pork and is as processed as it gets. It was a staple in my family’s refrigerator and I distinctly remember the salty, buttery flavor and the soft fatty texture. It sort of makes my skin crawl in retrospect, but I sure ate it up back then. And while I probably have not had a bologna sandwich in well over a decade, I was excited to try a gourmet version of my childhood guilty pleasure.

The fried bologna sandwich was one of four dishes we tasted at Seersucker. I mistakenly chose the spiced potato chips with pimento cheese which was rather lackluster and predictable and way overpriced at $6 for a handful of chips. We also sampled the fried poached egg which sat on a tasty grit cake, an underseasoned side of collard greens, and a strange rabbit stew which could have used more of the potato dumplings to soak up the heavy liquid. It was not advertised as a stew and if I had known that it was, I probably wouldn’t have ordered it. But that being said, it was rather tasty.

Getting back to the nostalgia possibilities of the meal, the bologna sandwich was far different from what I used to create in my microwave all those years ago. This bologna had been pan-fried until it was practically burned and crispy. It was wedged between two soft, buttery english muffins that had been smeared with a hint of spicy mustard. The flavor brought up another childhood food memory: well-done, grilled hot dogs. The mustard was a nice, smart addition but I could have used a bit more because I found the sandwich a little dry. All the moisture had been cooked out of the processed meat and so it was all crunchy texture, salty processed flavors, and no moist, tenderness. Maybe that’s a good thing as bologna tends to have that soft, strange mouthfeel when not killed in a pan.

It definitely brought me back and was an improvement on the slabs of cooked bologna I used to eat as a youth, but it wasn’t much more than that. I imagine the ingredients came from the local meat market and were not homemade as some of the other Brooklyn restaurants would boast (Mile End makes their salami in house). So given the right tools, I bet I could even do it at home. I’ve come a long way from the microwave.

Would Seersucker’s Fried Bologna Sandwich make my Top 100 of the year? I give it a 7 out of 10 because it tasted like those burned hot dogs I loved so much as a kid, but my tastes have matured a bit and I would like something a little more inspired nowadays.

I’m truly amazed at how many critics and publications showered Torrisi Italian Specialties with all sorts of accolades last year. I can’t tell you how many times I read that some big critic called owners Mario Carbone and Rick Torrisi the second coming of food.

I do admit that the concept is intriguing: it’s a modest Italian sandwich shop by day and a no-reservations ever-changing prix-fixe dinner spot by night.  And the room is small, cozy, and dressed up with Italian products (like canned San Marzano tomatoes and gourmet pistachios).

The Time Out list brought us here for lunch to try their Panama Sandwich. It wasn’t listed anywhere on their simple overhead menu, but when I asked for it, the disinterested cashier knew what I was talking about and  told us it would be a few minutes. We snagged a hard to come by table and waited and waited and waited. I’m not sure why our meal took so long when everybody else around us were savoring Italian specialties.

Finally, our order came up: the sandwich along with a sampling of their daily sides. We had some spicy broccoli rabe, a sweet and tart beet salad, and roasted brussels sprouts. All were a notch up from your usual Italian sides. No complaints here.

The Panama is simply a turkey sandwich, but with a bit of a kick. Besides the usual turkey, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and mayonnaise, they smear a portion of spicy sauce on the bottom of the crusty bread. It’s subtle enough to not over-power the mild, old-fashioned turkey sandwich, but it gives it that extra bit of heat to compete with your corner deli.

Another thing the corner delis can’t compete with is the house roasted turkey that Torrisi uses. Last year’s Time Out list included a house roasted turkey sandwich (from Douglaston Delicatessen), but I bet the TONY writers have long forgotten about that mediocre incarnation. This turkey is generously brushed with honey, garlic, and thyme before being roasted in a special oven that puts any brine or baster to shame. The result is a juicy, moist melt-in-your-mouth turkey that’s as cared for as if it were Thanksgiving Day. But this fowl is served year round.

The rest of the sandwich disappointed a bit. The lettuce and tomatoes were flat and uninspired. They kept this turkey sandwich in the realm of deli food instead of raising it to heaven where all the critics have firmly put it. I expected some house roasted tomatoes or some special gourmet greens. But apart from that fabulous turkey and spicy sauce, this would have been just another day at the bodega.

But I guess that’s why this place is so worshipped. Because it’s not just any sandwich. It’s a modest, not too fancy lunch with exceptional ingredients and masterful chefs putting them together. I can only imagine what happens at dinner.

Would Torrisi Italian Specialties’ Panama Sandwich make my Top 100 of the year? The turkey itself is exceptional and I appreciated the surprising addition of the spicy sauce. But the rest of the sandwich is nothing special so it can’t get above an 8 out of 10 for me.

New York is notorious for not having great Mexican food. Which is partly true, but I think many of those nay sayers don’t know where to look. The best Mexican food I’ve found in this city is either from food carts or hidden all the way in the back of a generic-looking bodega on the corner. There are many of these little shops throughout Manhattan and the East Village. So I’m not surprised to discover one in the Mexican neighborhood of Sunset Park. And if I had the time to fully explore the area, I bet I’d find many more.

But it’s Time Out’s list that brought me to Puebla Mini Market. The name says it all. It’s a pretty small bodega (although not nearly as small as some of the one’s in Manhattan) that has a take out counter with tables and chairs in the back. The choices seem to consist mainly of tortas, which are toasted Mexican sandwiches. They offer more than 20 torta choices, so I was relieved that Time Out enabled me to pick one. Their choice was the Torta de la Casa (Torta of the House).

This monster consisted of three types of pork: ham, bacon, and carnitas (braised and spiced pork). Also, two types of cheese: queso fresco and an Oaxacan string cheese called quesillo. And if that wasn’t enough, it’s loaded with the condiments that every torta here receives: pickled jalapeños, onions, tomato, refried beans, and mashed avocado.

There were great things about this sandwich, but most of them consisted of the fact that it’s just a monster. It was hard to taste all the flavors in each bite and a few bites were actually rather bland. Many of the  pickled jalapeños fell off the sandwich when I picked it up. Probably because the toasted bread is not made to hold this many components. But on a few occasions, when I got all the flavors in one bite, I was quite pleased with this gut-busting torta. The salty cheese, the spicy peppers (when they stayed put), the rich pork, the creamy avocado, the crispy bacon, and the crusty bread seem like the perfect combination of ingredients. And in some ways they were, but I think it was just a little too big for its britches.

But that’s not to say I didn’t enjoy it. It filled me up pretty quickly and piqued my interest regarding the other interesting torta options (they offer everything from a Cuban to a Hawaiian to a Gringa). Sometimes you have to travel far for some great cuisine. But it’s available in this city. Trust me. You just have to know where to look.

Would Puebla Mini Market’s Torta de la Casa make my Top 100 of the year? I appreciate its huge aspirations, but it was just a bit too much for me. The ingredients were fresh and there were some great bites so it gets a 6 out of 10 with hope for other delicious tortas at this location.

It’s official. I looked through the tags for all my blog posts since I started Eat This last year. And my suspicions were correct: Mile End has been tagged more than any other restaurant on this blog (with Di Fara pizza a close second). Which means I’ve reviewed, praised, and brown-nosed Mile End more than any other place this year.

So I was incredibly pleased when I got Time Out’s list and saw a sandwich from the Montreal-influenced Brooklyn diner included.  I may have lost oodles of respect for the publication if they hadn’t. But I was a little surprised to discover it wasn’t their phenomenal smoked meat sandwich, but rather the less-talked about Ruth Wilensky that made the cut.

The first time I had the sandwich (many months ago) I asked the question I imagine most people ponder: “Who’s Ruth Wilensky?” Rae Cohen (one of the owners of Mile End) explained to me that Ruth Wilensky (now 91 years old) is a deli personality and owner of Wilensky’s Light Lunch in Montreal. The sandwich is inspired by the Wilensky Special which is a pressed sandwich of grilled bologna and salami with a helping of mustard. The mustard is so integral to the sandwich that Wilensky won’t make it without and Mile End charges a nickel if you order the sandwich sans the condiment.

Biting into the warm sandwich, I experienced that first joy all over again. The roll (called a pletzel) is studded with bits of charred onions not unlike an onion bagel. Here, they forego the bologna, but to make up for it, Noah Bernamoff (chef and co-owner) makes the beef salami in house and uses all the finest local ingredients. Those ingredients make for a nostalgic sandwich (even if you’ve never tasted Wilensky’s original). It makes me think of a really great crispy hot dog wrapped in a perfectly tender onion bun.

Clearly, I love all the food (and the ambiance and service) that Mile End produces. The Ruth Wilensky may not be my favorite (I prefer both the smoked meat sandwich and the smoked salmon Beauty), but there’s no question that this is a scrumptious throwback to some great comfort food with all the right ingredients. I could go on and on about it, but I think I’ll save it for another Mile End post.

Would Mile End’s Ruth Wilensky make my Top 100 of the year? If I could put all their menu items on my list I would, but since other things here reign supreme I give this an 8 out of 10. It‘s still a delicious option, but I only have room for so much at each visit.

And it was Ted who IMed me one day to let me know that National Pastrami Day (January 14) was approaching. I have a tough enough time keeping track of President’s Day and Columbus Day, so you can imagine that this is the first I had heard about National Pastrami Day. I learned it was started by sandwich chain Togo’s, which is less manipulative than Hallmark’s holiday creations, but still rather silly. Regardless, I took Ted’s advice and decided to get myself a pastrami sandwich in honor of the holiday.

One of the delis I never made it to on my journey is Berger’s in midtown and since I had to be in midtown for a tour, it was a no-brainer where I should celebrate National Pastrami Day, although I bet Togo would have liked me to commence the eating festivities at one of their establishments. It’s their holiday after all. I don’t think there are any Togo’s locations in the city and even if there were, I probably would not think of them as a pastrami destination. Sorry, Togo’s.

Berger’s used to be a classic deli in the Diamond District. It catered to the kosher community for over 50 years, but unfortunately shuttered in 2006. I actually got to go to the original years ago and felt right at home. It wasn’t as extravagant or delicious as Katz’s, but it had a more modest old school charm. I was terribly sad to hear it closed.

But the good news is that Berger’s was re-born on 39th Street. The bad news is that it has none of that old fashioned character that made it so wonderful. Now it looks much like any generic sandwich chain in midtown (ie, PAX or Europa Cafe), which I imagine is why it doesn’t get nearly the amount of press it would if it maintained the feeling of a Jewish grandmother’s kitchen. Now it may as well be called Togo. The sign outside even calls it Berger’s on the Go. Where have all our Jewish delis gone?

The counter felt very sterile and I was confused as to where to order. Besides deli sandwiches, you can now get wraps, paninis, and build your own salads. I convinced the guys to give me a corned beef/pastrami combo sandwich in a half size. Even though this was a holiday, I still need to keep my boyish figure. It blows my mind how impossible it is for them to do this. I offered to pay extra, which finally convinced them, but how hard is it to make a combo half size?

The guys at the cash register seemed like they came from that old school deli world, so that was comforting. And so was the price. Even though I paid extra, the half sandwich still only cost me $6.25. That’s ridiculously cheap for a corned beef and pastrami sandwich in this town.

I took the sandwich to a nearby indoor public space (that’s the beauty of midtown). It was freezing outside, so I imagine I did a little harm to the heat of the meat. It wasn’t completely cold when I unwrapped it, but it was also not as warm as I expect. The meat still managed to melt in my mouth and impart quite a bit of flavor. The pastrami had a smoky saltiness and the corned beef had some nice garlicky savoriness.

But both meats were rather greasy. I’m not sure if it had to do with the temperature change, but there was a shiny film on the meat as if it had been soaked in fat. It even caused the rye bread to go soggy rather quickly. And as the sandwich came to an end, the meat got even colder (I was inside by now) and it felt like I was eating cold fat. This was a real shame because the flavors were strong and I enjoyed the sandwich at the beginning of the meal. I wonder if I would have had a different experience if I had ignored the restaurant’s name and didn’t take “on the go”.

All in all, it was a pretty good Pastrami Day except for the fact that I didn’t get any cards or texts or anything. I hope Ted’s holiday consisted of better deli meats and more presents.

Is Berger’s On The Go the best corned beef/pastrami in NY? I enjoyed the flavor of the meat despite some grease and temperature issues and since dining in the shop at one of the few tables might be a different experience, I can’t give them less than 7 out of 10.