The joy of a joint like Johnnie’s Pastrami isn’t solely in the food, although that sure does have something to do with it. Rather, it’s about the All-American experience of the busy diner, perhaps with counter service (as we received).
The servers are often gloriously grouchy and short, but also eminently likeable. They’ll help if it’s really needed, but they won’t take any nonsense either. You know the place.
Johnnie’s Pastrami highlights everything that’s great about all of that, to the point that it could be a staged production about American diners. This writer went in alone, which meant that counter-seating was compulsory because the “lunch rush is about to start.”
Ordering was simple – the hot pastrami sandwich on French roll stuck out on the menu, due to the name of the restaurant. If it’s good enough to name your establishment after, it’s good enough for us. Mind you, it’s huge. You can choose between the full sandwich, or the half. We went with the latter, because our legs aren’t hollow.
The sandwich is prepared with Johnnie’s own house-made sauce and seasoning, which adds a zing to the flavor. It’s heaped with hot pastrami, and the meat is amazing. Peppery and salty, but also moist and full of meaty flavor, you’ll need a fork to eat all of the pastrami that falls off the bread with each bite.
We went with a side of pickles, which was an astute choice. Put a couple on the sandwich and the vinegary tang contrasts perfectly with the heavy meat and bread. By themselves on a fork, the pickles are amazing too; thick and crisp, each bite gives that satisfying crunch.
We took some French fries, and they were hot, golden and crisp, and not overly greasy. Not that we’re claiming they’re healthy – that’s not the point of a place like Johnnie’s. But they’re cooked evenly and arrive fresh, with a warning from the server about the heat.
If there’s one minor complaint, and it is minor, it’s that Johnnie’s Pastrami only takes cash, which we found out while we were eating. Maybe we were wrong to assume, but it seems like everyone takes cards nowadays. There’s an ATM out back, but it charges a fee.
But that’s perhaps all part of the quirky, old-school charm of the restaurant, which is reminiscent of the days when you sat down for a cup of Joe and perhaps a slice of pie (the pies here look great but we didn’t have room), served by someone who looks like they’re having a tougher day than you are.
We’re so used to modern conveniences and complex menus, that something as simple as a pastrami sandwich with fries feels like a Godsend.
