With a lot of the eateries once again open for business, albeit with a 30%, 50% or 70% max capacity, I thought I’d offer some humor related to food, a typical topic for Jewish comedians of old.
“Congratulations,” said the customer to the restauranteur, “I understand your establishment burned down.” The owner said, “So what’s to congratulate?” The customer said, “All the customers are bragging that it’s the first time your establishment served hot food!
For years Mr. Schleplowitz had been eating in the same restaurant without incident, but tonight the meal was abominable. The roast chicken was as tough as a heel, the peas were like BB’s, and the mashed potatoes reminded him of paste. “Waiter,” Schleplowitz yelled out, “I cannot eat this terrible meal. Call the manager!” The waiter replied, “it wouldn’t do you a bit of good. He won’t eat it either!”
An African-American walked into a kosher deli. The waiter came over and said, “Tonight we have gefilte fish, borscht, stuffed sweet-and-sour cabbage, and kishkah.” The customer’s face reflected no clue as to what was on the menu, so he decided to order something more familiar.
“You got any chitlins?” he asked. “Do I have what?” replied the waiter. “Never mind. Bring me a bowl of hominy grits.” The waiter said, “Whatever that is, we don’t have that either.” “Ok,” said the customer, “bring me some hog jowls.” “Hog!? In here?” The customer muttered in disgust as he got up to leave, “For heaven’s sake, it’ll be another hundred years before this place is ready for integration!”
A joke, then a true story…A man with distinct Jewish features (?) stood before a display case and pointed to a tray. He said, “I’ll have a pound of that salmon.” The clerk corrected him, saying, “That’s not salmon, it’s ham.” The customer snapped, “Mister, in case nobody ever told you, you got a big mouth!” Now the true story…my father-in-law met some other Jewish guys in his unit when he served in the Army. They would eat together. Every time they saw pink meat, they let it pass them by. One day they were hungry. One of the guys said, “Hey, what is that stuff anyway?” My father-in-law said, “Who’s asking, pass the salmon!”
Now apparently the days of the deli are gone – zichrononam l’vracha, may their memory be a blessing - even in New York. Members of the tribe just aren’t developing a taste for the good stuff as did their near ancestors, and that’s a pity. Just thought I’d put in my two cents plain on the subject (for those who don’t get it, “two cents plain” was the term used for seltzer water in those delis).