Tag Archives: Jewish delis

When I am flush with cash, i.e. I have two bucks-a-day to splurge on food, I eat in a hole-in-the-wall Jewish deli on Second Avenue and St. Mark’s Place. I am moving up in the culinary world as I move west across the Isle of Manhattan. Here I catch abuse from the ferocious Jewish waiters. They treat everyone with utter disdain but their barley soup and challah French toast are worth it. When they have decided you are a regular, they make one tiny concession toward recognizing your existence by growling your breakfast order thusly – “Gimme an omelet, make it nice!”

The first time I hear my omelet ordered this way, I feel that I have won the Congressional Medal of Honor. The Key to The City. The Oscar. I stop strangers in the street and kvell, “Hey, I ordered an omelet and the waiter said, make it nice!” The strangers offer hearty congratulations but are envious, even dismayed – “Damn, they never said make it nice about my omelet.”