“I’ve never liked pastrami,” Ms. Rutland said as she sat in sight of a granite-framed fireplace at the flagship of the Crown Burgers chain. A homemaker from nearby West Jordan, Utah, she was in town to watch her son dance the Lindy hop at a Mormon Church pageant. “And I still don’t like pastrami, but I like pastrami burgers. They’re something else.”
Frankly, I would call this a burger pastrami, not vicey versey. Frankly, I did not get much further in the story than the Lindy Hop speed bump. Actually, more like a Lindy Hop Jersey barrier.
Wham, hit that sentence, brain stopped dead, bumper crumpled. I do hope that poor boy has a partner in his hopping. Left and left, and right and right looks so much prettier when done in duo.
Lindy Hop/Mormon Church/Pageant?? It would be easier to wrap my bumper around a pole than to wrap my imagination around this combo. Burgers with pastrami – conceptually easy peasy. I served my share of smoked brats topped by burgers with (with CHEESE, in Badger-speak), to ride, while dishing up grub and beer at Shorty and Lamby’s brathouse circa 1975.
Writing in The Los Angeles Weekly, Jonathan Gold described the presence of pastrami on Los Angeles burger house menus as an “atavistic souvenir of the decades when Chicanos and Jews both lived along Brooklyn Avenue in Boyle Heights.”
Mr. Gold preaches food gospel in the church of me.
In a recent issue of Salt Lake Magazine, Mary Brown Malouf tallied the “Utah Locavore 100.” Though her roster ranged from puaka tuna, a Tongan dish, to Navajo fry bread, she pegged Jell-O at the top.
Pegging Jello at the top. Can one peg Jello? You’d think that would create quite a wrestling match. Nailing jello might be more apt.