In Pastrami We Trust: A History of the American Jewish Delicatessen from 1880 to the Present Daniel Schwarz, MA candidate in Public History, American University Somewhere on East Houston Street, you will find it. Walk past the bustling pizza parlors and Chinese restaurants. Wind your way through the endless rows of old tenement buildings where dilapidated ground floors are now occupied by upscale clothing boutiques and coffee shops. Follow the crowds of hungry tourists and enthusiastic locals, and before you know it, you will find yourself standing under the flashing neon sign of the last Lower East Side deli.1 Katz’s Deli has been in business since 1888, and in recent years, it has gained recognition for defying an unfortunate trend. For the last few decades, the deli has slowly disappeared from the American landscape. It is stunning to think that even during the Great Depression, when countless businesses struggled to stay afloat, some five thousand delis flourished throughout New York City.2 Now that Katz’s stands as the last bastion of a neighborhood’s culinary tradition, thousands of tourists and New Yorkers make the pilgrimage each day. They come, because they are hungry, and they crave the garlicky, smoked pastrami crammed between two slices of soft rye with plenty of golden mustard. Older patrons may have childhood memories of eating at Katz’s or other delis, and turn in their tickets at the tall glass counter with the hope that they can relive their youth. Still, there are other customers who may be Jewish, and not particularly religious, 1 David Sax, Save the Deli: In Search of Perfect Pastrami, Crusty Rye, and the Heart of Jewish Delicatessen (New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2009), 8. 2 Jenna Weissman Joselit, The Wonders of America: Reinventing Jewish Culture 1880-1950 (New York: Hill and Wang, 1994), 203. but are nevertheless eager to dwell in what historian Ted Merwin has deemed “a central ritual space of secular Jewishness.”3 As we consider the success of Katz’s, we must contemplate the significance of the Jewish deli. At this crucial moment in American culinary history, as the fate of the deli remains uncertain, we need to consider why the deli has mattered to so many for so long. We must think of the Jewish immigrants, who found comfort in the fattening fare as they struggled in a strange land. We must consider their descendants, who inherited their appetite for the cuisine that reflected the traditions of the Old World. We must investigate the appeal that deli food has had for many outside of the Jewish community. As the delicatessen is now as much a symbol of New York culture as of Jewish culture, we must realize the unique ability of the institution to bring people together.4 After a thorough investigation, we will discover that, while the delicatessen is on the decline, it has impacted and will continue to impact the culinary traditions of Americans, Jewish and gentile. Deli aficionado David Sax refers to New York City as the “de facto world capital of Jewish delicatessen.”5 He cautions, however, that New York should not be thought of as the birthplace of the deli, but as “…the perfect incubator for the Jewish delicatessen…”6 As Ashkenazi Jews emigrated to the United States in the latter half of the 19th century, they carried overseas a wide variety of culinary traditions. Once the immigrants found themselves in the “incubator” about which Sax writes, those traditions 3 Ted Merwin, “The Delicatessen as an Icon of Secular Jewishness,” in Jewishness: Expression, Identity, and Representation, ed. Simon J. Bronner (Portland, OR: The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2008), 195. 4 Sax, 5. 5 Ibid 6 Sax, 22-23. had a chance to fuse together to create a distinct style of cuisine.7 Jews from each country brought something different to the table. Polish Jews carried kishka, a beef sausage stuffed with matzo meal, across the Atlantic. Hungarian Jews incorporated paprika into their cooking. Romanian Jews brought their fondness of pastrami to America, but the manner in which the meat was introduced to the American public is up for debate.8 Author Patricia Volk insists that her Lithuanian Jewish great-grandfather sold the first pastrami sandwich in the New World, in 1888.9 Whether or not this is true, it is safe to conclude that Jewish deli fare has diverse and complicated origins. As the Jewish culinary traditions evolved in a new environment, the Jewish delicatessen began to take shape. When Eastern European Jewish immigrants first arrived in New York in the 1880s, German immigrants had already established delicatessens that sold distinctly German foods, such as sausages and pretzels.10 It would be some time before the Jewish immigrants would adapt the deli to suit their own culinary needs. At first, they obtained food from pushcarts. These pushcarts maintained an overwhelming presence on the Lower East Side streetscape, and the peddlers behind them hawked everything from bagels to pickled herring. Pastrami and other hot foods could not be preserved in the pushcarts. These were distributed instead at shlacht stores, which were commonplace in the Lower East Side, Brownsville, and other New York neighborhoods.11 In addition to meats, these stores stocked a wide variety of beans, soups, and condiments. Ruth Glazer, the daughter of a deli proprietor, recalled walking 7 Ibid 8 Sax, 25-26. 9 Patricia Volk, Stuffed: Adventures of a Restaurant Family (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2001), 33. 10 Sax, 23-25. 11 Ruth Glazer, “The Jewish Delicatessen: The Evolution of an Institution,” Commentary, I (1945/1946): 58-59. .