Schwartz's Charcuterie Hébraïque de Montréal

Schwartz's has been on Saint-Laurent Boulevard since 1928 and has survived everything Montreal has thrown at it — including fame, which is the most dangerous thing a delicatessen can encounter. The tables are packed together with zero consideration for personal space. The menu is not extensive. The smoked meat is made in the back from briskets that have been curing for ten days.

Montreal smoked meat and New York pastrami are cousins: both derived from Romanian pastramă, both involving a cured and spiced brisket. Schwartz's version is spicier, smokier, and sliced thicker than the Katz's style — the difference between two great versions of the same thing rather than a hierarchy. The fat distribution is different; Schwartz's tends toward the fattier middle cut, which has more flavor and requires more napkins.

The sandwich is the reason for everything: smoked meat piled high on rye, yellow mustard, nothing else. The pickle plate. A cherry cola if they have it. Eating this in Montreal in February while the boulevard empties outside is one of the best possible experiences a sandwich can provide.