During lunch at the Golden State restaurant on Fairfax, in between making sure my kids’ locavore-friendly food stays on plates and haranguing them to eat a few Persian cucumber slices, my eyes often linger on the hulking building across the street. In just a couple of seconds I’m filled with the mild sting of betrayal and guilt.
Chicago and Cleveland have the best corned beef. Detroit is tops for rye bread. The best smoked meat is in Montreal, and for pastrami, you can’t touch New York and L.A.