Pastrami on Rye

Pastrami arrived in NYC with Romanian-Jewish immigrants in the 1870s — a preservation technique for goose breast in the old country (the name comes from Romanian a păstra, "to preserve," ultimately from Turkish pastırma, "to press"), adapted to cheap American beef navel. Sussman Volk, a Lithuanian immigrant, is credited with selling NYC's first pastrami sandwich in 1887 from his Delancey Street butcher shop, made from a recipe a Romanian friend gave him in thanks for storing his luggage. Katz's Delicatessen, founded 1888 on Ludlow Street, remains the canonical version — same East Houston Street location since 1917, still hand-cuts to order, still cures in their Brooklyn smokehouse for 30 days.

Romanian-Jewish 1870s NYC — preservation of goose breast in the old country, adapted to cheap American beef navel. Sussman Volk sold the city's first pastrami sandwich in 1887 from a Delancey Street butcher shop. Katz's (1888, same East Houston address since 1917) cures 30 days in their Brooklyn smokehouse, hand-cuts to order.

Lift it and the sandwich barely closes — a fistful of meat between two slim slices of rye. The bark is peppery-black, the interior pink-ringed and moist with rendered fat. Each slice is 5mm thick, irregular, jagged at the edges. The mustard cuts the fat; the rye anchors. Pickle spear and a half-sour cucumber on the side, never on the sandwich. At Katz's the counterman tears off a sample slice for you while building it.

Pastrami is a three-stage build: brine cures the meat (nitrite gives the pink ring and antibacterial protection), smoke develops the bark and aroma, steam breaks down the connective tissue without drying. Skip the steam and you get smoked corned beef — chewy, fibrous. Skip the brine and you get peppered brisket. The navel cut (under the brisket, near the belly) has more intramuscular fat than brisket, which is why Katz's-style pastrami is richer than the leaner brisket pastramis sold elsewhere.