it's not new york pastrami.

i come across in new york times that there's this place in portland, oregon that home smokes and hand makes pastrami. i know all pastramis in new york delis are commercially produced. and i know hwubby loves, loves, loves pastrami. pastrami on rye. reuben. you name it. he loves it. whenever he's in new york he has to have it. so i bring this to his attention. and there we are tasting this. to me, it is fantastic. not greasy. not salted to the tilt. nice texture but doesn't stick between teeth. i look to hwubby and say, with great anticipation, this is great, isn't it? a pause ensues. my heart and stomach sink. hesitantly he says, it's....good, it's not new york pastrami. indeed this is not the pastrami as he knows it. this is not the pastrami that is a part of his childhood. this is not the pastrami in his world. whereas i don't carry all this emotional memory of pastrami.