Zero F*cks



This was the only title deemed appropriate considering the beastiality of the consumption.

Think about the amount of f*cks given, multiplied by a rainy Saturday, and add in deli mustard. Now, throw in a warm, hefty helping of salty, melt-in-your-mouth pastrami, and shove it in rye bread. According to my nonexistent math skills, the answer comes out to: Katz Deli. 

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 It was my first time. Umbrella-clad carnivores hovered in line, which surprisingly only lasted about 8 minutes or so. Appearances can be deceiving. When my dad and I finally entered, we each got a combo. consisting of 1/2 pastrami sandwich and a matzo ball soup. If you recall all the matzo balls you’ve had in your life, and roll them into one ball the size of your face, you’ll see that sinking in your broth. And by that I mean, I’m obviously not complaining. And I also mean that we ate this at 12 p.m. and nothing else except an entire bar of dark chocolate until dinner. We may have ordered a cheesecake at Katz, I’m not telling.
Just do it. I thought I was queen Bey because I had conquered the pastrami at 2nd Ave Deli, but clearly I’m an amateur and needed to get a chunk of this infamous deli too. Since I have meat twice a month (can’t say the same thing about my cans of tuna), I think this was enough to satisfy my craving until February or something.
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Also, I’m digging black and white pictures right now. I figured there was enough color in the pastrami. But here’s some ambiance for you.
If the sandwich picture didn’t make your intestines drop into your rain boots with the dire need to inhale this sandwich after a 3 am. night at the Jane, than just proceed with your egg whites and ignore the life story that I ate in my sandwich. I’m no longer making sense, and that’s because it’s Monday, I’ve had 2 shots of espresso and a coffee by 10 am, then another two coffees by 3:30 p.m., took a rowing class this morning at 7:30 am, and was rolling around in insomnia until my heater decided to stop rattling the building.
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Than, I had to check out the new Toby’s Estate Coffee that opened in the West Village two weeks ago. I still want to move into the one in Brooklyn, or at least have my wedding there if husband arises. For now, I will just pay a visit to sip on a flat white, perhaps a gingerbread cookie, and to stare at plants. There is still no wi-fi here, but they said it should be coming soon. Regardless, it’s pretty small and cozy, I had to stare a few people down to score a nice table for two and that’s that. Service was very friendly. And the girls next to me ordered toasted banana bread and I wanted to just rip off a huge chunk, but I contained myself because I thought they might not get it.

One thought on “Zero F*cks

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