Make mine medium fat

By Liz Fleming

It's a cold and snowy walk up Montreal's boulevard Saint-Laurent on a wintry Saturday afternoon. 

Lunch hour is over and most trendy cafés and diners are deserted. Only the odd, dispirited waiter stands behind a window, glancing up and down the street in hopes of a customer.

This, I think, is a good sign. Perhaps, I won't have to wait.

By the time I reach my goal, I'm frozen to the core and more than ready for my late lunch - but so are the dozen people ahead of me in line. A gang of university students in baggy snowboarder jackets, two elderly ladies bundled up in hand-knit scarves and sensible boots, and a chic couple in leather and sheepskin, all look equally frigid and no less starved.

I should have known better - there's always a lineup at this place.

To take my mind off the chilly breeze biting at my cheeks, I think about my impending choice. It'll be 'medium fat' or maybe even 'fat' - definitely not lean.

Lining up outside Schwartz's Montreal Hebrew Delicatessen is expected, according to manager Frank Silva. 
"Even when we open at eight in the morning, people are there for takeout."

It's the food that draws the fans, because they certainly don't come in search of high-end ambiance - the formica-topped tables and beaten-up counter are depression-era utilitarian, and privacy is impossible. No reservations and no tables for two. In fact, there's no choice of seating at all. You get in when there's a chair for you at one of more than a half-dozen long tables already crowded with people. If those are full, you end up at the counter, bumping elbows with the guys next to you.

And you're grateful, because it's all part of the experience - and has been for the past 90 years.

Schwartz's, arguably Montreal's most famous eatery, was opened by Reuben Schwartz, a Jewish immigrant from Romania, in 1928 and has been welcoming hungry customers ever since.

Organic food? Not.

Heart-healthy cuisine? Never.

Schwartz's specializes in Montreal smoked meat - luscious and pink, piled high between slices of rye bread, topped with a garlicky dill pickle and served with a side of crispy fries.

(It's a heart attack on a plate, but it's the kind of food you'll crave ever after in the middle of the night.)

As for the decision-making involved, your choice is between fat, medium fat or lean, and the staff will leave you in no doubt if you make the wrong choice.

I learned that when my husband and I dropped by once for lunch.

"Fat, medium fat or lean?" the waiter asked, pencil poised.

"Medium fat," I said.

"Good choice," said the waiter, "and you?"

"Lean," said my health-conscious husband.

The waiter snorted, "Bad choice!"

Fat is where it's at when it comes to smoked meat, and as long as you don't eat it every day, it probably won't kill you. If it does, you'll die happy.

The secret to Schwartz's success lies in the preparation of the meat. Marinated for 10 days and steamed for three hours, it's top quality kosher beef. Mountains of it disappear daily into the bellies of happy customers, along with countless loaves of rye bread and pickles.

Schwartz's lineup of repeat customers includes the Rolling Stones, Hank Aaron, Jerry Lewis, Ken Dryden and just about every other professional athlete you can name, but manager Silva puts Angelina Jolie and Halle Berry at the top of his list of favourite star customers.

Incidentally, they both had medium fat.
Good choice.