Located in Hopkins, Minnesota, Crossroads Delicatessen endeavors to bring a taste of the New York Deli scene to our backwater little Land O Ya-Youbetcha.
Just one problem: me.
I've said it before, I am a proud Minnesota that is often scared of new things. This concept of washing ones feet while showering, for example. Who started this rumor? I mean, it's a shower! The soap runs down. Why should I bend over to wash my feet and risk slipping and impaling myself on the faucet? That's just ridiculous.
That and I have an irrational paranoia from too many viewings of American History X and HBO's OZ.
But, as usual, I digress.
The Crossroads Deli might in fact bring a taste of New York to Minnesota. They have corned beef and matzo ball soup. That's just about all I know about the New York deli scene.
Well, that and that Meg Ryan is just a dirty liar and a tease!
Inside what looked to be a converted Bridgeman's is, as one would expect, a full deli case sporting several kinds of cured meats and dessert options. And these ain't your Target prices. Prices are listed on small hanging chalk boards by the 1/2 pound, all starting at at least $4.99.
So they must be good, for all I know.
To the food. I was in a deli, and if I know my stereotypes, they are supposed to have this corned beef thing figured out.
One Crossroads' Hot Corned Beef with fries, please.
Before the meal, the aged waitress (old enough that she got grandfathered in with the term waitress instead of server. I could have called her Flo) brought a basket of three pieces of bread, some pickles and beets.
The bread was a slice each of caraway rye, pumpernickel and sourdough. Three pieces of bread, nine individual portions of butter. I like the way these people think.
The bread was as to be expected, just cold bread there for your tasting. Or perhaps a palate cleanser, but I doubt it.
The pickles were just a normal kosher brine, none of that bread and butter s***t here.
The beets... what the f*** do I know about beets that I haven't been taught by Dwight Schrute? Nothing, never had them. They look gross and bring about some strange flash backs to childhood of watching old people eat them with open mouths.
Still, I am a professional or something, I should give them a shot.
Huh... what do you know. I like beets. As I am not sure what a beet normally tastes like I can't comment on the sweet or salty nature they provide, however, what I was served could only be described as a bread and butter pear.
The combination of briny and sweet coupled with the sandy texture and consistency of a pear create this interest melange with the auspicious purple color.
Yummy.
Ah, my sandwich has arrived. A good portion of meat falling out each side of the sandwich with a toothpicked olive staring at me, judging me...
Much like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally I needed to take a moment to situate the tender, thinly cut slices of corned beef on the sandwich and apply the necessary accoutrement. A small smear of mustard and a couple of pickle slices seem to be a part of the lore that I remember. I take a bite.
Too big of a bite. I got a vein of fat. A lot of them.
And here in lie the rub with corned beef. It is fatty as f***, regardless of where you get it. That is why it cooks down to be so tender. The problem is that if the person cutting it isn't concerned with how lean it is, you might get a half of a sandwich that looks like something you would see in an episode of Grey's Anatomy.
I had to do a bit of surgery myself to get what meat I could out of the first half of the sandwich, leaving a pile of fat and vein at the side of the plate. My faith was shaken, but I still had food on the plate. I went after the second half and was pleasantly surprised at its lack of internal organs and vessels. The meat was tender and thinly sliced that it had the "melt in your mouth" consistency that isn't usually found amongst deli meats.
I just wish the entire sandwich had been that way.
The fries were very crisp and delicious, though a bit colder than I would have liked, but what are ya gonna do? That's something they say in New York, right? That and something about fist pumping that I keep hearing about.
Crap, Oz flashback.
So, here's the thing. It was a good sandwich. I was having lunch and it was $10.99, so it was a bit more expensive than I would normally like, and I wasn't nearly as full as I would have liked, but it was still pretty good. And, outside of the occasional bagel or cheesecake, probably the closest I will ever get to New York.
Would I go there again? I don't know. As it has been 20 hours later and I am still burping corned beef, I think I can wait a while before reliving this kind of gastric reflux.
And next time, I'll stick with the hard salami.
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