We have no good delis in town.
And you’d think in a college town, you’d find at least half a dozen places ready, willing, and able to slap you up a corned-beef-and-swiss-on-rye-extra-mayo-and-brown-mustard-two-dill-pickles-please.
Instead, we have cappuccino places.
Yesh, I admit to sometimes cavorting out to purchase a lovely venti latte, and sipping it carefully and territorially.
There’s something to be said for standing at a glass display case full of meats and cheeses and lovely hand-cut veggies and warm bread and condiments and requesting from a sweet, smiling clerk, that they very kindly assemble a sammie that would knock the fuzz offa yer socks. And I'm not talking 'bout no Subway sammie, either.
I did, accidentally, find a place in town that does a deli thing as a sideline, and now it’s making me crazy with cured/processed desire. It’s “World-Wide Bread”, and they do, indeed, make and sell breads from all countries and cultures. (Their nipply brioche makes me weak in the knees.) Last time I was there, I noticed a very small case of deli supplies, and a dry erase board above it with half a dozen suggested sammies. I chose one, happily handed over six smackers, and took the paper bag back to work where I pulled out the BIGGEST sammie I’ve ever gotten at a Midwest deli (made on their homemade wheaty bread), and a bag of lovely salted chips, three napkins, and the most delicious apple I’ve ever seen.
It was hog heaven.
(I’m haunted by thoughts of delis and tattoos today…I want more of each…. And my next Floater Boyfriend will be a tattoo artist as featured on television….)