Langer’s Deli

I’m Jewish for the jokes…and the food

I am a corned beef Jew.  “What does he mean by that?” you may ask.  Despite my religious Jewish upbringing (from the age of seven I went to Hebrew school three times a week culminating in a Bar Mitzvah by Rabbi Bornstein), I am a cultural rather than a religious Jew.  And by culture, I don’t mean the B’nai B’rith or the local Havurah; I mean the culture of the middle class Jew raised in the sixties on a potent mixture of Groucho Marx, Sandy Koufax and Bob Dylan heavily marinated in parental guilt.  And much of that culture revolves around food. But not just any food–Jewish deli food.   

The original Jewish delicatessens were in New York City.   Katz’s and Carnegie’s are the classics.   I once ordered the “Woody Allen” at Carnegie’s—a double decker corned beef and pastrami on rye the size of a fully inflated regulation NFL football (sorry Tom).   A waiter who walked by my table noticed I couldn’t even finish half of the sandwich.  With typical New York deli waiterly disdain, he sneered “Nice try, big eyes.” 

As any native Angeleno deli expert will tell you, there is only one deli in L.A. that matches the homemade style and flavor of New York corned beef and pastrami, and that is Langer’s Deli.  I recently made my annual pilgrimage to this Mecca of delicatessens.  Langer’s is a family owned restaurant that has been at the corner of Alvarado and 7^th St. for over 75 years.  It is best known for its pastrami, as is boldly and conspicuously advertised.  

At Langer’s, the pastrami is selected from the prime center portion of the navel which consists of only about three to four pounds of a two thousand pound steer.  It is cured, smoked, and then steamed for three to five hours to an internal temperature of over two hundred degrees which tenderizes the meat.  It is hand trimmed of excess fat and then hand sliced against the grain of the meat.  Langer’s pastrami is like the snowflake, no two pieces are alike.

Singles are normally seated at the counter.  By a series of complex negotiations, the likes of which have not been seen the signing of the Treaty of Versailles, I was able to wrangle a small table.  I was immediately greeted by my North Star of a waiter, Frank, in contrast to the Death Star that I had at Carnegie’s.  Frank is a veteran of over a dozen years at Langer’s so not only was he supremely knowledgeable, he was able to add some historical perspective to my lunch at this renowned eatery. 

Of course I was going to sample the meats that have made Langer’s a deli staple for over three quarters of a century, but I was equivocating as to what should accompany my sandwich.  Frank made it easy by bringing me samples of the yin and yang of deli sides, the homemade cole slaw and potato salad.  He also offered me a latke on the house (even though Hanukah is nine months away), served with both applesauce and sour cream, which tactfully appeased both parties of the condiment controversy.

The cole slaw is mayo rather than vinegar based which gives it a soft, velvety texture and smoother taste.   The potato salad has firm, but not overly hard, potatoes with a light surrounding dressing and a hint of egg, dusted with paprika for an accent flavor.

For a beverage, I ordered a Dr. Brown’s soda, the drink accompaniment required by standard Deli Protocol.  Frank, however, suggested that I sample the Langer’s homemade cream soda.  The cream soda is made to secret specifications which are deposited in a lead-lined vault five hundred feet below the ark containing the Torah scroll in the Wilshire Boulevard Temple.  When ordering deli soda, I have always preferred black cherry to cream soda but the Langer’s cream soda made me a convert as one can taste the actual cream in the drink. 

After sampling the sides, it was time to move on to the reason that famished patrons drive hours and hours to reach a somewhat seedy part of L.A., the Langer’s sandwich.  The most popular sandwich on the menu is the #19:  hot pastrami, cole slaw, Russian dressing and a slice of Swiss cheese on baked rye bread.  In order to duplicate my Carnegie’s experience, however, I ordered the #54, the pastrami and corned beef combo with swiss on rye (with apologies to Rabbi Bornstein for mixing meat and dairy).   As my lawyer friends would say (and yes, I sheepishly admit that I have lawyer friends), res ipsa loquitur:

Everything you hear and read about Langer’s is an understatement; the sandwich was spectacular.  It was garnished with a crisp deli pickle.  Not all pickles are created equal; the pickle had the piquant savoriness of brine, dill and garlic.  Both the corned beef and pastrami were served at just the proper temperature, had soft texture and explosive flavor.  The pastrami was impeccably smoked and seasoned.  It had the appropriate amount of fat but not so much as to make it overly chewy.  The corned beef was lean with a wonderful mixture of briny and mild spicy flavors.  The rye bread had a crispy crust surrounding the warm, soft inner portion of the bread (otherwise known in the bakery biz as the crumb).  The overall experience was marvelously satisfying and extremely filling.

Langer’s is not to be missed, no matter your religious or cultural persuasion.  You may arrive thin as six o’clock, but you will leave looking like 9:15.