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At the Parkway Deli
You can know what you need before you know why.
For example, ten-year-old me, who leans
on the empty cold salad-bar cart along the cold wall
of the crowded dining room at the best Jewish deli
(supposedly, though they’re not kosher) south of Manhattan:
I’m waiting for noon, when the cart
becomes the world-famous pick-your-own-pickle bar.
“World-famous,” meaning
I wouldn’t stop telling my dad how much I liked it:
green sour tomatoes that pop
whenever you cut or bite into them,
intricate as a satellite inside;
sauerkraut in three colors, like some nation’s flag
left outdoors in a storm and shredded, maroon,
not quite white and pale-emerald green;
half-sours and dills, sliced lengthwise like canoes,
curled up at their tips like canoes;
banana peppers the shape
of your tongue if you stick out your tongue,
that also burn your tongue;
jade disks with peppercorns, sugary like tart candy,
yet not dessert, and good for you. How many years
till I found out why trans girls and women crave salt.
Coming out makes your blood pressure go down.
So do spironolactone, and other
similar shots and pills with jawbreaker names
I wanted to change me. I would tell no one.
I would stand outside until I was 41,
waiting to be let in. You can know what you need
before you know why: shredded cabbage and mini-cukes
and sodium ions in water, and vine-ripe tomatoes
preserved in mustard seeds, coriander, allspice
and vinegar for no one knows how long.
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Stephanie Burt is Donald and Katherine Loker Professor of English at Harvard. Her latest books include We Are Mermaids (Graywolf), After Callimachus (Princeton UP), and Don’t Read Poetry: A Book About How to Read Poems (Basic). Ask her about Taylor Swift!
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Dessert display, Parkway Deli, Silver Spring, Maryland, 14 March 2024. Photo by T. Winch
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Author: Terence Winch