The Zinger Man

One of the pilgrimages I'd planned while in Ann Arbor was to Zingerman's Deli, a nationally – or perhaps universally – famous rival of Katz's in Greenwich Village (where Sally demonstrated to Harry how women fake it). When Diane was in town on Wednesday, we spent about a half-hour of her well mapped and directed efforts to get us to the location of this Rosh Hashanah Mecca (you should excuse the metaphor); but the diabolical gerrymandering of AA's "old town" area is such that we might have been the expedition searching for Dr. Livingstone in the jungle, with less satisfactory results. We gave up, that day.

However, I could not give up the odyssey, because Stu Chalin mentioned its worthiness; so on Friday – yes, Shabbat Eve, and this year the eve of Rosh HaShanah – I found my way there, with the help of careful MapQuesting and The Great Jehovah. (It also helped that I went at 3 PM – just about the only "off hours" time at Zing's.) I was even able to park right across the street! No lines out the door! But there was a line indoors, and I joined it gratefully.

A great burly Dionysian redheaded fellow in a Zingerman's tee-shirt sidled up to me and said (observing my confused glances) "First timer?" I agreed that I was that; and said I was here to find out if the tales are true that Zingerman's is as good as Katz's and/or Russ & Daughters, on Houston Street in Greenwich Village. He gave me a snarky look, raised one eyebrow and snarled, "As GOOD as?? Are you kiddin'? Let me tell you a little true story. A couple of years ago there was held a US competition across America to find the best corned beef from coast to coast. Who won? Do I have to tell ya? Of course Zingerman's corned beef. And here's another true tale: last year the Manhattan-only deli's held a city contest for the same crown; our beloved boss had a friend in the business in NYC and they smuggled in some of Zing's corned beef. Who won? Who else? We killed 'em all, again!"

I told him I would put them to the test this very day, but not with corned beef. "Do you serve your brisket undressed?" I asked. Absolutely of course, just ask for No Sauce.... then he pointed to the guy in line in front of me and said, "by the way, be nice to that guy, he's from Chicago." I said "I'm always nice to guys from Chicago; they're dangerous!" Dionysius clapped me on the back and said, "I like you; here's an employment application, fill it out!"

So I could be working in Ann Arbor, if I should choose; ain't life grand!

PS: I won't tell The Man, but no way does Zing's brisket come within a country mile of Katz's! It's good -- maybe only super, if you get it with their BBQ sauce, but that's not Manhattan, bud. I'm having my other half of the sandwich for dinner tonight, but only because it's there. (Sorry, Stu: I'll take you to Katz's if I am ever in Manhattan at the same time you are; we'll have a brisket on rye, but I don't give demonstrations.)