As a Deli man's daughter, I couldn't resist having a corned beef and pastrami sandwich--of course on rye with Russian Dressing. A friend of mine had the coleslaw on the side, but in true Jewish Deli fashion, my coleslaw was placed on the bread, dripping a little as I ate.  

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My mouth used to water when I entered my Dad's Deli, upon seeing the barrel of sour pickles. I put my hand into the barrel, and oh! the puckering of the mouth and the ecstasy of the sourness.

 

While there are few pickle barrels today, the sour pickles with my sandwiches were almost as good as I remember.