Pastrami Pilgrimmage

Among my father's loves in life, not too far behind my mother and his kids, was a good corned beef sandwich. He LOVED good corned beef, always on rye, and with good deli mustard. Our go-to place on Long Island was a place in Plainedge called Mil-Jays, and I still treasure memories of eating there many nights when my Mom was in South Florida moving her ancient mother from an apartment in Miami Beach to a nursing home in West Palm... I am my father's son, and also love a good corned beef sandwich, although I have evolved somewhat, and also love pastrami. Miami has a few decent places for this delicacy, but I have never been able to duplicate the essence of the true NY version of a true sandwich. Last week, at lunch, several of us were debating the best place to get good pastrami, and the usual suspects were mentioned: Sage Deli in Hollywood, Mo's in Aventura, and Bagel Emporium, Roasters, and LOL in Miami. Roasters comes closest to NY in one way: the prices. Last time I checked, they charged nearly $20 for a sandwich. I avoid Roasters... Our newest roommate, a fellow I'll call John, since that's his name, leaned into the conversation and smiled the smile of a man who knew what others did not. John is in his 70s, has had a successful career as a litigator, and had a good trial lawyer's sense of the dramatic. He smiled again, and said simply "Stephens in Hialeah." We all laughed. Hialeah. As if! The place is more Cuban than Havana -- industrial, workaday, as UN-Jewish as any place in Miami. John was pulling our legs. No, he explained -- in the 50s and 60s Hialeah had lots of textile factories, and the owners were Jews from NY. Stephens opened to service this trade, and somehow stayed open, and still, to this day, served the best deli sandwiches. John was dead serious, as any man of gravitas must be when discussing important sandwiches. In the years before he died, my Dad and I went to the beach together. One day, I pointed out a stunner in a tiny bikini. He looked, and then said "At my age, if she had a corned beef on rye in her cleavage, THAT would excite me." These sandwiches are indeed serious business. I returned to the office and googled Stephens. Sure enough, they had a web site, and were smack dab in Hialeah. I knew I must lead a pilgrimage there. I emailed Dr. Barry, Norman, Mike, and Jorge. Mike and Jorge are not Jewish, but might as well be. They have the sense of humor, and live in a very Ashkenazi world. And Jorge grew up in Miami Lakes -- the spiffy part of Hialeah. It was agreed -- we would go the following Wednesday, and try for ourselves. Well, life got in the way, and Mike,Jorge, and Norman begged off for dumb reasons like firm meetings and depositions. Barry remained true to the cause, and, just an hour before I fired up the little Caddy for the trip, I got a text from Dr. Kenny, asking if I was free for lunch. It was his day off. I texted excitedly that if he had the time, I had a surprise, and he was in. So I fetched him at his temporary house, where he's dorming while Chinese drywall is removed from his regular house, and we drove to JMH and fetched Dr. Barry. The two of them caught up on matters pediatric during the drive to Hialeah, and then we arrived. Sure enough, it was a corner place. One side of the street was classic Hialeah residential -- small houses with front fences and burglar bars, and the other was industrial. We parked and went inside. We stepped into the mid-50s. They had wood paneling on the walls! And a cooler full of Dr. Browns... Our waitress brought cole slaw and pickles. Ken liked the place immediately. And they were great, too. Barry and I ordered lentil soup, and the combo corned beef/pastrami on rye. The table had ketchup and brown mustard, No mayo. This was real. Sure enough, the meat was awesome. The rye bread was soft. We had found true corned beef and pastrami. The owner came over, a Jewish guy from Jersey. He was about our age. He told us he sold a company at 45, went to the cooking school in North Miami, and bought Stephen's 5 years before. He told us a classic Borscht Belt joke. I asked him about the meat, and he explained it was all in the cutting. It had to be hand cut. His cutter was "Junior," now 70, and the cutter here for over 45 years. Junior didn't have to work -- his grandson had hit it big -- he was Udonis Haslem of the Heat. But Junior loved the place. Plus, we were lucky -- today Junior had made his rice pudding, with raisins. We ordered it. We were indeed lucky. Three Circuit Judges I know came in. Now I felt like a total schmuck -- was I the LAST guy to learn about Stephen's of Hialeah? Judge Shapiro told me the turkey was the best in the city. Maybe next visit. So the pilgrimmage was a success. Stephens is awesome. Any anyone I fetch at MIA on a weekday, before 5 pm, can expect an awesome welcome home treat...