I like food. I like to admire it. I like to cook it. And I love to eat food.
Wait—you’re thinking this is a sports blog, right? By and large, it is. Yet there is the world of competitive eating—we’ve all seen a clip of contestants—both male and female—disgustingly downing hot dog after hot dog on July 4th on Coney Island. I guess to those who participate and the throngs who watch, it is considered to be their sport.
Having made many trips to see my grandfather who lived in the Sea Gate section of Brooklyn, my father and I did not miss a stop at Nathan’s before boarding the ferry across the Narrows prior to the building of the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. Mustard and sauerkraut were set requirements along with the French fries with some skin on them, and a Coke. None of the sloshing through water to get the buns down the throat. Yuck!!
We have all gorged on food at some time. Buffets come immediately to mind. I have been to many a good one in Las Vegas, along with some pretty mediocre ones. In New Jersey, there was the Sunday brunch buffet at the Hilton in Short Hills where I forced myself to eat desserts although I was already stuffed. And the lobster buffet in the now-defunct catering hall called The Manor in West Orange. Pricey but great. Antacids were a must after each of these adventures.
Surprisingly, I abhor cooking shows. Nor do I avail myself of cooking classes. Simply not my cup of tea. I like to putter, invent and sometimes improvise with the recipes I do use. I make a mean mushroom and onion lasagna and a not-too-shabby chicken in peach sauce.
My favorite foods—Chinese, pizza, smoked salmon/lox and prune danish head the list, with a lot of contenders for prime spots right behind those four. For years, I had breaded veal chops, with french fries and Brussels sprouts for my birthday meal. Most of it is not that healthy and somewhat cost prohibitive (and the veal looks horrible, too).
Mention deli and there is only one place which resonates—Katz’s Delicatessen on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, located at the corner of East Houston (pronounced House-ton) and Ludlow Streets. Both my grandfather and father worked there. The atmosphere reeks of tradition and the smells are divine. It is one of my happy places.
I have had food from great delis in New York City—The Carnegie, The Stage, 2nd Avenue. All phenomenal establishments. However, they take a back seat to my corned beef on club bread, slathered with deli mustard and Diet Dr. Brown’s Soda at Katz’s. Talk about Nirvana!!
So when The Star-Ledger, our local paper for New Jerseyans, came out with a list of the fifteen best Jewish-style delis in the Garden State, I was intrigued. So was my wife.
We decided we would visit the places on the list and rate them ourselves, comparing them to the paper’s order. But how would we do this given my belief that any other corned beef would never be as good as Katz’s?
Easy—by setting a simple standard—each sandwich would consist of turkey, lettuce, tomato and onion with mayonnaise on rye. No deviations. Which is what we did. We did not care about cost. We did not care about the weather—it seemed to work out fine for us in the winter anyway. And we invited some guests to join us periodically.
In conduction with “Travels with Toby” on Facebook, here is the product of our scientifically un-scientific labors. In the end, this felt like sport in the way it came about and how athletic we needed to be to remain in shape after eating so much food. Without further ado, here it is (Star-Ledger ranking in parentheses):
#1 The Pickled Herring, Englishtown (#14)
The Star-Ledger had this deli ranked at #14. I honestly don’t know why. Located in a shopping center (how New Jersey!) on Route 9 in Monmouth County, it was a little bit of a trip. That angst was enhanced by the car GPS putting us 4 miles down the road from the destination in the Marlboro Plaza.
So I wasn’t expecting anything great from the place based on its ranking. And I was a bit agitated from the GPS error.
Walking in, the decor reminded me of a combination of deli & diner chic. Booths and tables away from a full display case housing so many Jewish staples. Breads and baked goods everywhere. Signs on the wall announcing the delicacies. It reeked of Jewishness.
The menu had its specialties. Along with the staples. The sandwiches were gigantic.
This was turkey as if you were having a sandwich from a Thanksgiving bird. Right off the bone and full of flavor. The rye bread was so fresh—surprisingly TPH was the only deli which served it with seeds; that was a staple of our youth. It was stunning how good the sandwich tasted. We knew we had found our winner—certainly our measuring stick for the best turkey sandwich in NJ.
#2 Eppes Essen, Livingston (#3)
Coming in at number 3 in the Ledger ranking, Eppes Essen exceeded expectations. My wife has had previous disappointments at this venue and was wary going in. When she left, she was convinced that she would return to Eppes Essen again—at least for the turkey sandwich. Everything was fresh and mouth-watering.
I have heard complaints about how overpriced this restaurant is. For the quality we observed during our ratings, the value was there.
#3 Hobby’s, Newark (#1)
Forget about the parking. It is non-existent. Which is a bit of a deterrent. We ordered and took the sandwiches home. The taste was there. The bread was perhaps the freshest of all. It was just that the sandwich fell apart while eating it, leaving us to pick up different parts to put it together again. Ranked #1—our daughter had the pastrami and said it was outstanding and that is their signature meat—finishing in the Top 3 is why Hobby’s is an institution.
#4 Deli King, Clark (#4)
The closest site to Springfield, it was easily the best kosher restaurant and the quality of the turkey sandwich was right there with the non-rabbinically supervised operations. I have never had a bad meal at this place, and the turkey sandwich was certainly delicious.
#5 The Kiddish Room, Cherry Hill (#2)
Easily the most distant deli on the list, we happened to be in Philadelphia and made a stop there en route to returning home. The sandwich weathered the trip home, which saw snow on the ground in North Jersey in early January.
We had previously been to TKR and liked the place. A bit schmaltzy and replete with older Jewish guys doing exactly what the store’s title implies, the solid quality of their food would be reason enough for there to be a brisk business on a Sunday morning with obvious repeat customers. Kinda like us.
#6 The Kosher Nosh, Glen Rock (#7)
This was our last stop, which turned out to be a pleasant surprise. Just a tad better than the newspaper rating. The sandwich was tasty, largish and the bread was fresh. It came with a little coleslaw, potato salad and kosher dill and half sour pickles. The only negative was that to eat the sandwich you had to hold it firm or the body could slip from the bread. We visited on a Sunday for lunch and the seating area filled up with obviously satisfied returnees.
#7 Harold’s, Edison (#6)
Either you’re a fan of eating large or you don’t belong at Harold’s. Supersizing isn’t even close to describing the girth of the sandwich we ate. We ate there on Sunday. We had it again on Monday with more of the rye bread that came to our table with this and other huge orders. We finished the turkey in a salad on Tuesday and we needed more than ten days away from the bird to reacquire a desire to have another sandwich. The quality and quantity were ample.
#8 Foster Village Kosher Deli, Bergenfield (#5)
The place was a small storefront in a cluster of stores. The counter was small and in the rear. We had no great problems with the sandwich. It was the extra item we had, courtesy of the Ledger’s recommendation—the baked potato knish—which stole the show. We would consider a return visit for a repeat performance of the duo.
#9 Richard’s, Long Branch (#10)
A couple of blocks away from the beach, the outside decor looked more like a Jersey Shore bar. Which it is. Yet the place had every vibe of being a low key Jewish-style deli. Coming in at #10 in the Ledger, the sandwich was better than expected. Very likable.
#10 Goodman’s, Berkeley Heights (#13)
Another one fairly close by, this incarnation is a survivor of its earlier days in Elizabeth. It wasn’t full near noontime when I entered. The sandwich was fine. Nothing to run back for if looking to eat in.
#11 Irv & Karen’s, Brick (#12)
Far from posh like some of the others, you felt you were getting homestyle food. Which isn’t a bad thing. My wife liked the place a smidgen more than I did—probably because it had a New York vibe in Ocean County. They seemed to do a decent visit on a nondescript midweek winter day.
#12 Fred & Murry’s Kosher Deli, Freehold (#8)
I had heard so many wonderful things from a law school friend about this place. Of course, that was many, many years ago. While the sandwich was sizable and the rye bread was fresh, any time I know it is an Empire meat product, the sandwich wasn’t going to measure up with those at the top. And it didn’t. There wasn’t anyone else in the place when we went for dinner; the potato knish was only fair, but the pickles weren’t bad.
#13 Tenafly Kosher Deli (#11)
It’s a schlep to Tenafly. At least parking was free. Entering, you are underwhelmed by the size of the establishment. It is so small that there is a row of 5-6 stools beneath a counter facing a wall (it was a nice day so we ate outside in a park). The other side of the store had the food case and work stations. The rotisserie chickens were in the window; the only patron to enter the store while we were there ordered two. The turkey meat was cut from a small, wrapped wedge. The rye bread wasn’t too bad. My wife succinctly summed up our meal—“it’s a sandwich.”
#14 Orchid Kosher, Metuchen (#9)
A small, homey restaurant in downtown Metuchen, the service was friendly. It seemed to be a notch off in quality from others on the list. The portions were average size.
#15 Noah’s Ark, Teaneck (#15)
The place was big. The sandwiches weren’t. By far, the most disappointing place in comparison to the others. It was kosher turkey and not much to our liking. Someone had to finish last—in both polls.
There you have it. The most unscientific survey of food you may ever see. I don’t challenge you to try the turkey sandwiches at any of the aforementioned locations. Or for that matter, any of the many items these establishments offer. At the risk of your own heartburn.
This made up experience was fun. Which was the name of the game: The Great NJ Deli Turkey Sandwich Chase.
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