Pastrami Dog + Fries (by cosecant)
When I lived in Huntington Park (the city where I was held up at gunpoint and the cops told me it was my fault for being a white guy in that neighborhood, then the detective refused to investigate the case), there was a charburger place on my way home from the train station (or bus stop, on the rare occasions when I was off work early enough to catch a bus from the train station before they stopped running).
When I was exceptionally hungry, I would stop in. They didn’t even need me to order after a while…as soon as I walked in, one of the cooks would raise his eyebrows and I would nod, telling him I was getting the usual. By the time I reached the front of the line at the register where people were ordering, I’d just hand over the money and the cook would usually already have the order ready.
It wasn’t exactly what you see above…but this picture reminded me of it. I’d get chili cheese fries smothered in pastrami. One of my roommates there turned me on to it. I’ve had it at other places since, but either they charged a lot more (the place in Huntington Park charged $2 extra for the pastrami; I’ve had other places charge as much as $6 and give less meat) or it just didn’t taste as good.
Of course, I called it a heart attack in a take-out box. Because if I ate it too often, I’m sure it would have lead to one.
I haven’t had it in years…but man, it sounds good right about now.