It’s no secret that I am mad over Zingerman’s Delicatessen. I have been for some time now and with good reason. Zingerman’s does it right. All of it. The meats. The cheeses. The bread. Even their employees are full of good will and don’t make me feel bad for wanting to try 17 different cheeses before I inevitably just go buy a sandwich and put myself in a meat coma.
Then I take deep breaths and will myself to go over to the bakery side and treat myself to a small dark roast and macaroon.
No Zingerman’s isn’t paying me to write this. I just am so enamored with Zingerman’s that every time I go there and sink my teeth into my favorite food: the heartily stacked sammy, I make a note to myself to write a love letter to my favorite food establishment in all the land. Hey Zingerman’s, side note—I definitely want you at my wedding. Um, obviously, this is a love letter to you; you’re going to need to be there. Oh, yeah I am actually not getting married. Or engaged. Nor do I have a boyfriend. Or any real prospects per se. But when I have a wedding one day, God willing, I would like you to be a part of the festivities so everyone can nod their understanding that this is what true love is all about. Meat and cheese expertly placed on two pieces of perfect bread, obviously.
With Ann Arbor on the brain today, I thought, hmmm, do I go to Zingerman’s tonight? I have been there kind of a lot lately and am trying to conserve on fundage for my big move. But I feel it’s a disservice to go to Ann Arbor and not see what’s happening between two flaky pieces of sourdough.
With that overly verbose introduction, however, I have a few more words if I may:
I like you. No, it’s more serious than that. I think you know it too. Something has developed between us that is more than mere fondness. I hesitate to say it’s love and speak on your behalf but I feel sure of my feelings and they are in that arena. Every time I visit you, I feel so welcomed. So satisfied. I am surprised by new tastes and surges of pleasure through my entire being. The people that I feel most embody the way I want to live: the French, duh—the connoisseurs of pleasure—would certainly agree with my sentiments regarding you. You have a real panache in all you do and I for one am smitten. Even though every new meal I try simply tops the last, I never let myself get the same thing twice. I force myself to try something new at every turn because I know you’ve never let me down before and why would you start now? Hence why I am loathe to say I even have a favorite sandwich of yours. I can’t even recall which one could be the best. I can only recall feelings of satiated glee with every visit. So naturally I would be very remiss if I didn’t tell you of these feelings. I am not the type of girl that keeps my lips zipped when I am in love. So with a grand and deep well of gratitude I tip my hat to you, Zingerman’s. For your attention to detail in selecting the finest ingredients. For being the best deli around. For being from my wonderful home state of Michigan. For being so tirelessly delicious. And for making my top list of things that make me infinitely joyful.
Yours in utter adoration,
Cassandra Lee Sturos