Stephens of Hialeah

 So yesterday we had nothing going on, and then Paul called. I had a check for him, and was going to mail it, but he gets SO happy when he receives the check personally. Would I come to Aventura for lunch? I would not -- the traffic there is hellish -- plus, we are driving to NE Miami both Monday and Tuesday nights for Passover. But, I WOULD meet him somewhere halfway.

We settled on Stephen's, in Hialeah. He had never been there, and heard me crow about their sandwiches. And so I was off in the man sized Caddy SUV, up the Palmetto, to Hialeah.

The place has a cool history. In the 40s, Hialeah was the center of South Florida's mostly Jewish schmatta trade -- sort of Lower East Side South. The factories and workers needed places to eat, and probably 10 delis sprung up. Over time, Hialeah transitioned to probably 300% Cuban -- a mathematical impossibility -- but seems about correct.

All of the delis transitioned to places with ventanitas, except for Stephen's -- it remained. About 10 years ago, a guy from New Jersey bought it, and tried to restore it. Judges from the Criminal Court, and lawyers, came for lunch -- the drive wasn't too far. The place was ok, but the meat of lower quality, even though the long time pastrami slicer, Thompson Biggers, remained. He is the grandpa of Miami Heat legend Udonis Haslem.

But then, Matt Kusher, a local VERY good restaurant guy, bought it -- and he really made the place. Jewish deli meets Cuban kitsch. The urinals in the men's room have pictures of Castro -- so you can piss on his face. There's an adjoining bar with all manner of local Cuban items --even a casa China for outdoor events. But the corned beef is as good as you can get.

So I got a Dr. Brown's Diet Cream, a Rachel sandwich, and Paul got his standard corned beef on rye with Russian dressing -- but not grilled, like a Reuben. 

We talked of days to come and days gone by. Somehow, come November, our law firm turns 30. When we started out in November of 1994, we pledged to "Do whatever it takes"to succeed for 10 years. We have slouched on for another 2 decades.

We talked about how the firm was much more than a couple of lawyers coming together to handle cases -- it was a true joining of both our worlds. Our families are now VERY close. My friends became Paul's, and his mine. Sadly, two of his closest, Alan and Frank, are now gone. I reminded Paul that's because he's 11 years older -- and those pesky actuarial tables tend to work that way.

When I left, Wifey was sitting by the pond, picking the weeds from the rocks. When I returned, she was in the same place, but Bo had abandoned her to wait to be let back into the air conditioned house. Eventually, Wifey came in to eat the tuna salad sandwich I brought her from Stephen's.

Today -- no plans either, though I DO need to walk as I shirked that duty yesterday. And then it is Pesach. And what have I done?

Monday night we're going to Joey's parents' house -- should be a smallish crowd, as Joey's older brother Bob and his family are in Peru with his wife Vera's family.

Tuesday we're meeting D2 and Jonathan at a local Greek place -- no seder -- but Aegean Street Food, as they advertise, and the great surroundings of a restored MiMo Motel, the Vagabond. Supposedly it was a haunt of the Rat Pack back in the day -- the same time the Jews were sewing schmatas in Hialeah. Ah, history.