Above: CARB0-LOADING AT CECIL'S DELI—Left: plate from one latke (I make really great latkes and I wanted to try one from someone else before the Zombie Apocalypse). The waiter asked what I wanted because he could tell I wanted something "else" and I said, "I'm curious about the latkes but I don't want three." "For 1/3 the price you can have one," he replied, so quickly that I knew it must be a regular request even without the impending Zombie Apocalypse. "Well let's do it," I said, with the same lack of hesitation. "Then that will be one mystery solved." (Sour cream of course, apple sauce is for amateurs.) (Results: it's a fluffy, flour-y version that is seasoned just right. I like mine a tad better—I believe in a lot of texture and my potatoes are grated.) Center plate: remains of the French Toast Turkey Club with a side of fries. What can I say about this sandwich? It is French Toast (fluffy and eggy) with pastrami and turkey, spring onions, and ranch dressing (yes, ranch dressing)—you have to eat it with a knife and fork; and crisp, crusty fries that are really plump pillows of potato-y goodness so hot as to burn your tongue so be careful. Center back: fruit salad and a Sasha sandwich, which Dick ordered. As far as I can tell it's pastrami, a soft fried egg, and "bird sauce" on rye. I don't like rye bread so I never pay much attention. And right: a vanilla malt. I gave Dick the can. I don't usually share. He probably thought I was being generous because of the impending Zombie Apocalypse, but I didn't think it was malty enough—I like a lot of malt (he said it was very malty). But let's not tell him my reasons for sharing. The "good-will feeling" might come in handy during the trying times to come. Click on the image to view an enlargement.
Read the caption. And if you're still confused read yesterday's post.