Taste of Lower East Side

Katz's Deli on Houston and Ludlow streets is a landmark. It opened in 1888 and still looks the same (even some of the waiters look like they might remember XIX century, always elegant, with bow-ties, cracking jokes at customers), and, hopefully, tastes the same. The cashier's system is old, too, and I'm not quite sure I understand it, seems to me like people behind the counter just write whatever comes to their minds. You'll know what I'm talking about if you go there. It's complicated, and if you lose your coupon, beware... Actually, I'm not quite sure what happens then, except the fact that you won't be able to pay for your meal, but I would rather not think about it. Images of tortures and various techniques of interrogation come to mind, so I have to chase them away.
One thing is for sure: they do have really good brisket, pastrami and potato pancakes my own mom could be jealous of. Another thing, also true, is that Sally faked her orgasm at the table in Katz's where she dined with Harry there in famous movie. Sign above the table says: "Hope you get what she had". What on earth DID Sally have that day? They should tell you, right? Could be a best-seller.
I recently photographed Lower East Side's still Jewish side, and all the places I know of. You can see it on expatpol.com (I'll link to it as soon as it's published)
But I wanted to say one thing: if you've never been to Russ and Daughters on Houston, you absolutely MUST go! I love looking at black and white photos from 1920-ies, of Russ and his lovely daughters who took over the place after his death. And I think of their glamorous life back then, my favorite period of history with jazz, shimmies, gloves and sequined dresses. Oh, and those cute hats with feathers in them. I have a photo of my grandma from the same period of time. How envious had I always been of that. Of course then came war, and the good times vanished, but thinking about it makes me want to pay somebody to build a time machine (if I only had enough money). That's why I love this store, full of smoked salmon, iranian caviar, roasted almonds and strudels.
And I really love Lower East Side, for its history and heritage. And my street holds a name "Avenue of Immigrants". How appropriate, huh?