- kaleokahu Mar 29, 2013 06:52 PM
OK, so I had some time to kill over today's lunch hour (good thing as it turned out), and found this tiny place on Madison. For some reason, the door wouldn't really open when I pushed on it, and then I realized there were maybe *75* people waiting in line in a space that was <75 square feet.
What I didn't realize for a few crazy moments was that I had stepped off a Seattle sidewalk and into a deli in downtown Krakow. Everyone (but me) was speaking Polish. Almost everything in the place appeared to be imported from Eastern Europe. The charcuterie case looked AMAZING (there looked to be at least 50 elaborate offerings), so I waited...and waited...and waited. At one point I thought about leaving, but by then I was just a stray akule caught in a Polish net.
The reason for the wait was all these Polskis, when the line finally brought them to the case, each produced a *really* long written list of what they wanted. One guy actually had so much smoked/cured meat, he couldn't lift his baskets and had to phone home for bearers.
The nice young lady in line behind me explained that Good Friday was the busiest day of the year, but that the charcuterie was worth it because it's all done in-house the "old way". So, in addition to my sandwich, I left with a pound each of the most beautiful prosciutto (you do it in Polish, without vowels), and bacon. Oh, and the marzipan and poppyseed "Danish".
I didn't get the sandwich I ordered, but it was so flipping good I don't care.
So, is anyone here willing to confess they've kept this secret to her/himself? If so, Wstydź Się (Shame on you)!
I'm pretty sure George's was mentioned in reference to its kielbasa at some point on CH, because that's exactly what I was looking after I DID visit Old Town Krakow, ate kielbasa off an open air grill four days out of five and simply couldn't go back to store brands after that sublime experience.
All of which to say don't cast too much shame here! :)
Suddenly in the mood for a hot pastrami sandwich and some sausage . . . yum.