I clearly have a Reuben problem. I can’t go to a deli style restaurant and order anything else. Like this time. It’s just part of who I am, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
But who am I kidding? The Reuben is the mother of all sandwiches. A sandwich equally gross and glorious. A true champion of a pastrami tower, with melted cheese, sauerkraut and dressing, it’s just impossible to resist. Of course I couldn’t order anything else: it would be sacrilege to do so.
Harry Morgan’s, a New York style Deli in St. Johns Wood, brings true honour to the legend of the Reuben. Their Pastrami Reuben is as huge as it is tasty, and comes with more fries than you’ll be able to handle after such a monstrosity.
And so, I’m sure if I go again, I’ll just order the same damn thing once more. Because a Reuben is a Reuben. And it deserves respect and admiration. Specially when it’s done this well.
Slimy? A tower of meat in your palms. How can it NOT be filthy?
Satisfying? Glorious as a Reuben can be. Just glorious.