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Houston's Katz's Deli; a true report

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Houston's Katz's Deli; a true report

avi | Oct 8, 2003 02:53 PM

Since we have been requested by our sponsors to limit discussions on this board to Texas Chow topics, I humbly present, for your Texas edification, my impressions of a truly remarkable dish I had not too long ago at Katz's Deli in Houston. Though I present my report in the cadence of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven", I SWEAR that it is as TRUE and as ACCURATE as any other Texas tale:

THE MAVEN

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered,
Weak and weary,
Katz’s menu full of Bluster, full of Pride.
I was nodding, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my side.

“Ah, the waiter,” I so muttered, "bringing me my Bagel, buttered,
With a side of Lox and maybe more."
And distinctly I remembered, he had offered
“Something Splendid."
"You'll enjoy this", he had cried, "I will bring you something fried."

As my hunger was so screaming, now my server stood there beaming,
Like some fearsome Banshee grinning, grinning at my side.
On the plate was something bloated, somewhat green and badly molted.
I queried, "Say Man, what's inside?”
Answered hoarsely: "Pickles, fried.”

Now he placed it on my table, wishing me, “Bon appetit.”
Gently prodded I this monster, with my knife in quick repeat.
It just laid there, mal and green, smel’t of garlic and of 'vin,
Greatly odious, born of sin.

As I bit on this concoction
It exploded,
Shooting unctuous bile everywhere,
That induced in me revulsion,
So I shouted at the garcon:

“Take back this abomination,
Why serve thou this evil, awful dish?
’Tis not fit for man’s consumption,
Even at a Dallas luncheon.
As for me, I’d rather dine on rancid fish.”

So I beat a fast retreat, running off into the street,
Waiter howling after me, “You’ll be back, just wait and see.
When your hungriness does blind you,
In the dead of night we’ll find you,
Katz’s Never Kloses, not no more!”

Years have passed, now Lenore, my sweet Wife for Evermore, on occasion does implore:
“New York deli, maybe Katz’s; I have never been before.”
And I shudder and remember those fried dills of yesteryore,
And beseech my Everloving: “Katz’s, Katz’s, Nevermore!”

Now I’m old and can assure you,
Listen well, for this I know.
Pay some heed to this Old Maven:
If it’s deli you are cravin,
Better you should eat Raw Raven than to dine on Katz’s Crow.

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