A few weeks back Wesly and I met up with Mary, Steve and Diana at Langer’s Deli, which is widely recognized as having the best pastrami anywhere (and I even know some New York Jews who agree — let the arguing begin!). When we parked at their parking lot a block away, we saw the most bizarre mural painted on the building wall next to it.  For a few minutes we were scratching our heads and saying, “WTF?”

Finally Steve was the one to get it. “It’s swine flu!”   We thought the snot streaming out of the pig’s nose was the killer touch.

On a less disgusting note, we did have absolutely fantastic pastrami as ever, thick and spicy and hand-cut, with the perfect amount of fat — just enough, and not too much.  (I already had a good picture from a previous visit, so I got lazy and didn’t take another one.)

There was one other picture I took while we were there, though.  Our dear friend Dave passed away in July, and we miss him terribly.  Dave loved Langer’s and we felt he should have been there, at least in some way.  So we bought several extra side orders of their kosher pickles, and spelled his name out:

Then he was there.  We weren’t able to finish all those pickles, but it was worth it.

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