After living in the Boston area for more than twenty years, I finally went to Michael’s Deli in Coolidge Corner of Brookline and had their storied Reuben sandwich. That sandwich was bloody inspirational and when it is me that is talking, you know I mean that literally. So:
…
Ode to the Michael’s Deli
Reuben Sandwich
…
How perfectly heavy this
Pile of sweet corned beef,
How sour the kraut, how
Rough and soft the brown rye
Bread, the bed of this old marriage.
…
Even the cheese knows
Its perfect place, dripping out
On the dark edges, soft and
Hot, so utterly prodigal.
And the pickles? They
Keep their own secrets.
buildingapoem 
Having had a disappointing Reuben this day your poem makes me jealous but also gives me some spiritual relief in knowing that somewhere, out there, the perfect Reuben still exists.
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I am in a constant quest. This one wasn’t perfect, a little too light on the sauerkraut and dressing, but it was damn fine. A Reuben should be prodigal.
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I love the line “Hot, so utterly prodigal.”
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Utterly prodigal is the line I started with.
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I would have thought it went without saying that one shouldn’t make a Reuben with a hot dog (instead of corned beef), but I guess that’s how they roll in Waltham.
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Yeah, weird!
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LOL. That was awesome. Now I want a Reuben samich. Dang it.
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