Working on the Cookbook
Working on the cookbook. Been working on it for several months now and
getting fairly close to finish. The problem is that with each section,
as I get close to finishing it, I think of a few new recipes I have to
add. Or I think that I have to put at least one or two little stories in
each section.
Today I was finishing up the "Burgers and a Few
Sandwiches" section. I got a few down, then came to the Reuben. I don't
make the Reuben in a traditional way, with corned beef. Here's what I
wrote:
Reuben
Every recipe in every cookbook will tell you to
make this sandwich with corned beef. That’s pretty traditional. But when
I worked at Jimmy Day’s Restaurant in New York’s West Greenwich Village
back in the day, we made it with pastrami and that’s what I still think
makes the best damned Reuben in the world.
I’ve got to say a
word or two about Jimmy Day’s. It was not far to the west of 6th Ave. It
was probably my second job in a restaurant as a grown up. I had a small
apartment on Broom St. just off 6th at the time, so it made sense to
try to get a gig not far from home.
Now I don’t remember exactly
how many seats the joint had, but it was far bigger than my first job
at The Lodge. I want to say I think it sat about 82 people. The kitchen
was tiny, and the crowd came in surges. I would get in at about 6 PM and
work with the chef till 8 ish. Then he would leave and I was on my own —
with a dishwasher, of course — until 2 AM, when the kitchen closed.
We had a pretty big menu but it was mostly easy stuff to make: Eggs,
steak and eggs, meatloaf, burgers, chops, spaghetti, and sandwiches
dominated. Not a problem, except that the crowd was used to very fast
service. I could look up after finishing five plates and see eight new
chits calling for 25 meals staring me in the face. You either learned
speed and dexterity — working the oven, grill, meat and cheese slicers,
deep fryer, and the six-burner stove simultaneously — or you quit. I
thought of quitting quite a lot at first because I was so overwhelmed.
I’m glad I didn’t because I really learned speed work — without
sacrificing quality — while I was there, something that made a huge
difference in my whole career.
A lot of the guests were weight
lifters who wanted their steaks trimmed of all fat and then wanted three
fried egg whites on them. Or they wanted egg white omelets with their
steak or pork chops. My hands flew separating out those eggs.
Now
one of our big sellers was the Reuben. I’d toss two slices of rye bread
into the grill to toast them. I’d pull them out quickly and put them on
an oval metal sizzle plate, and put Russian dressing on one side of
each slice of the toasted rye bread.
I’d slice a good portion,
maybe six ounces or more, of fresh pastrami on the slicer, and toss that
on the bread, splitting it evenly. I’d top that with sauerkraut we
always had on the stove, then top each slice of bread with good Swiss
cheese. Toss that into the grill till the cheese melted, pull it, and
slide it, open faced onto a plate. Add pickles and coleslaw and done.
Ring the bell, get it out of here.
That is still my favorite way to make a Reuben.
So go to your nearest Jewish deli and get six or seven ounces of very
thinly sliced pastrami for each sandwich you’re making. Pick up a nice
loaf of rye while you’re there.
Home, heat your oven to 350º.
While it’s heating up, put sauerkraut on the stove at medium heat. Add
a tablespoon of garlic in olive oil for each sandwich. You want the
kraut to start to brown and get a rich, deep flavor, so the longer you
cook it the better it gets. Add a little white vinegar or dill pickle
juice to it if it starts to dry out and burn. Oh, and turn down the heat
on it.
So the pastrami is ready, the kraut is cooking, the oven is getting hot. Time to make your Russian dressing.
For each sandwich — two open halves each, remember — you need about
two table spoons of mayonnaise, one good squirt of ketchup, and a
tablespoon of pickle relish (sweet or not, your choice) or chopped up
sweet and hot Jalepeños. Mix that up, then toss your bread into the oven
or toaster to toast it.
When the bread is toasted, bathe one side
of each slice with the Russian dressing, top with the pastrami. Top
that with the perfect sauerkraut, and then top the whole shebang with a
couple of slices of Swiss on each half.
Put your open sandwich halves onto a baking sheet and bake for about 5 minutes, or until the cheese is righteously melted.
Pull sandwiches, plate them, add a couple of dill pickle spears and a dollop of coleslaw and get after it.
Thanks, Jimmy Day’s. I loved working that speed factory!
2 comments:
Love this post! Great to hear about your early days as a restaurant cook. Cannot imagine the pressure of cooking for crowds like that. Ring that bell!
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