The old Second Avenue Deli, on 2nd Avenue
The Times today covered the changing territory of the Jewish deli, which in too many cases has devolved into joints where tourists marvel at ridiculously large sandwiches that discourage actual eating (for shame, Carnegie Deli, for shame).
I’m all for the innovations and can tell you that the house-made sodas at Saul’s in Berkeley are terrific.
But will any of these new delis ever be talismans of Jewish identity, like the Second Avenue Deli was for Seymour Krim?
In his “Sitting Shiva for Henry Miller,” Krim wrote an obit for the writer that investigated the phenomenon of Miller’s large and loving Jewish fan base, reminding us that the feeling was mutual.
Krim quotes Miller on the Jewish east side. “The ghetto is the only part of New York which is dear to me. The rest of the city is an abstraction, cold, geometrical, rigid as rigor mortis, and, I may as well add, insane.”
And so Krim confers on Miller the title of honorary Jew, “and the next time we tear into the chopped liver and the Dr. Brown’s at the Second Avenue Deli you’ll be there in the extra, unused chair. But for god-sakes, behave yourself!”
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