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| - Dear Mr Brisket, or should I call you Mister? Thank you, thank you, thank you for supplying me with my midwest/Northeastern corned beef sandwich fix. Growing up in Michigan, I am used to having my sandwiches as big as my hands. Your meat was delicate and fresh, it melted in my mouth. Thank you for telling me the meat actually comes from Michigan, the sandwich tasted every bit of "home". Your mustard had just the amount of fresh kick I needed, and your bread was soft and fresh. I wish I had time to come back and try your potato salad, but sadly I did not. The chip options satisfied me and your choice of beverages was just right. From the moment I called and ordered a pick-up, I knew you were the one and you DID NOT disappoint. You have no seating, but who can sit with the anticipation of having you? I even ate the whole sandwich at once when I got back to my destination. I know, don't look at me like that. It had been ssssoooo long, I am not ashamed. I planned on saving one half like a squirrel saving nuts for winter. I ate the first half...looked at the other, licked my fingers, and that was all she wrote wrote.
I guess that's the only good thing about us being so far apart. There probably will never be a "next time", but at least you reminded me of why I love the famous Jewish Deli's of NY/DC/Chicago so much.
P.S. Don't the best always wind up being in a little hole in the wall? Your memory brings a tear to my eye as I write this.
P.P.S Can you overnight FedEx me a sammich? :-(
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