(gentle guitar music) (lively upbeat music) - [RHEA FEIKIN] The thousands of Jewish immigrants that came to Baltimore beginning in the late 19th century needed to eat.

They bought the staples for their unique dishes from the grocery stores lining Lombard Street, including picking live chickens for their pots.

But times changed and grocers started selling sandwiches.

Lombard Street became known as Corned Beef Row, and, well, the rest is history.

And we'll take a look at that history with Ted Merwin, the man who literally wrote the book on Jewish delis.

- The brisket because my grandmother used to make the most mouthwatering brisket, and so when I eat a brisket sandwich, it reminds me of her.

- But we'll focus much more on where the Jewish deli is right now.

From Attman's in Baltimore, a resolutely traditional deli, to the whimsically-named "Call Your Mother" in DC, which bills itself as a Jew-ish deli, you'll experience the full spectrum of takes on this classic concept.

And given how tough a business Jewish delis are, you've gotta be a little meshuga to own one.

We'll try to find out why these folks strive to keep the tradition alive.

I'll be joined by Ilan Kaplan-- - Is kugel Jewish lasagna?

- And Marcellus Shepard-- - Shalom, y'all.

- As we eat our way on a Jewish deli road trip.

(lively upbeat music) - I'm Rhea Feikin.

Right now, let's take a look back in time.

I'm here in Baltimore at the Jewish Museum of Maryland, and it is just a stone's throw away from what was the hub of Jewish immigrant life in the 1900s.

Lombard Street, affectionately known as Corned Beef Row.

There are lots of exhibits here at the museum.

The one that we're in right now is called "Voices of Lombard Street," and coming here is really a great way to get a feeling for what life was like for the Jewish people in those days.

We're gonna be coming back here several times during the show to get really a historical perspective.

But to tell you the truth, I'm feeling just a little bit hungry, and just a short walk away from here is the oldest family-owned Jewish deli, in the United States, Attman's.

It's thriving and I think you're gonna see just why.

(lively upbeat music) For most businesses, adapt or die is a maxim to live by, but I think that the secret of Attman's success is absolutely refusing to change.

Sure, there've been additions to the menu here and there, but I think that a customer from when they opened in 1915 would feel right at home in this place today.

It's got what the Attmans like to call Attmansphere.

(lively upbeat guitar music) - Time now for a chat with Mark Attman, the third generation to rule this temple of corned beef.

(people chattering) Mark, Attman's has been Attman's since 1915.

That's a long run for any store.

What was Attman's like in the beginning?

Was it like this deli?

- No, it was a grocery, a high-end grocery store with imported delicacies from all over the world, so they used to sell sandwiches.

Back then, it was an industrial town, people were walking to work, two-for-a-nickel every morning at five o'clock in a little brown bag.

At about 1933, we moved to this location.

- So it's slowly evolved into the kind of deli that it is now.

- Exactly.

But it's always been busy.

We have always been busy.

I remember, I started coming down here when I was eight years old.

I was sitting outside talking to one of my friends, and my mother goes, "What are you doing?"

"I've been sitting here talking to David."

She goes, "I want you to go take the bus "and go down and help your father down at the store.

"He's busy."

- At eight?

- At eight.

Gave me a dollar, went on the bus, never been on a bus in my life.

Took the bus.

The bus goes.

I go, "Can you stop right here?"

(Rhea laughs) Takes me to the stop about two blocks away.

I walked up, walked in, and that was it.

- Eight.

And you've been there ever since.

- And it's been a part of everything I've done my whole life.

- Well, it's obviously a passion for you.

- It really is.

- But you have another job, but that's not just a little job.

I mean, you're an optometrist.

- That's right.

I'm celebrating my 45th year as an optometrist now.

- I can't believe it!

I mean, do you work day and night?

What is it?

- Well, you know, I'm busy, thank goodness, and I take care of a lot of people, and so basically these businesses are basically taking care of people's needs.

So, and everyone achieves some satisfaction in what I do.

So when you're doing something where you make people happy and you're involved with satisfaction, which is one of the couple of things I learned from my father and grandfather, what could be better than that?

And I'm making a nice living.

I'm not complaining.

- Can you think back to when you were a kid and you were coming-- What's the picture of Lombard Street at that time?

- We had everything on these two blocks.

What was interesting was we didn't just have like one aisle of delis.

We had six delis.

We had three pharmacies.

We had furniture stores.

We had clothing stores.

We had two or three creameries.

We had fish stores, chicken stores, but every store had its own expertise, so if you went into the chicken store and you wanted to get some corned beef, "Oh, you gotta go over to Attman's."

- So it was a real bustling place.

- Fantastically busy.

Always.

- You're the third generation running this business.

- Right.

- I'd like you to go back in time, and I wanna hear a little bit about Seymour and-- - Harry.

- Both of 'em.

- Okay.

Well, Harry was my grandfather.

I learned some very good things from him.

Slow, but sure, you never get poor giving charity.

- [Rhea] Two good things.

- Have respect for people, always listen to what they have to say, and don't say no.

- They are words to live by.

- I have lived by those, 'cause I still remember 'em, 'cause I learned them my whole life from him.

- Did you tell your children that?

- Absolutely.

They know it.

- I think it's great that you have sandwiches that have names.

- Yes.

- What are some of the names?

- Well, the Tongue Fu, that was my father's favorite name 'cause he came up with that.

We had the Whopper before Burger King had the Whopper.

A lot of family names.

I get yelled at when they're not there.

- Attmansphere.

That is what you talk about.

I love it.

What is it?

What's so special about it?

- Well, I think first of all, it's the smell when you walk in.

You're not gonna get that smell because everything we make here is fresh and the corned beef is always coming out.

Second is the people that you meet.

In most of our lives, you go to work, you meet the people at work, you go home, you go out to dinner, you see the same people.

Here, you have a chance to meet people and talk to people that you probably would never interact with.

And here you can do it.

So that's part of the feel.

And to know that in most cases, you had generations, either your parents or your grandparents, there's always someone that has been here that you know.

(plates clattering) (people chattering) - Have your customers changed a lot throughout the years?

- I think our customers have changed a lot because the world has changed, is more inclusive.

But Attman's has always been an inclusive place.

Growing up, we saw a lot of Italians here, okay?

'Cause my father grew up around here and his brothers, and all their friends were right over here in Little Italy, so they were friends.

Okay?

So my father always said he was half-Italian, half-Jewish.

They were always good friends.

But as the Baltimore population has changed, so has our clientele, but we're here for everyone, and we always have been here for everyone.

- So why is a Jewish deli Jewish?

- Well, it's called Jewish deli because they're selling the features of the Jewish delis but not strictly kosher.

All right?

Like all Jewish delis always had pastrami.

They always had corned beef.

They always had smoked fish.

They had whitefish salad.

But we added in the components of cheeses and creamery items like herring in cream sauce is a big thing.

But we incorporated all that.

So my grandfather, they gave us a hard time back in 1947, '48, the rabbis that were a little upset with us when we switched over to that side, but that was my father's idea and my grandfather agreed, and he still went to shul every Saturday, and he still walked around, and he was still an orthodox guy with my grandmother, and they lived their life, but his business was not, so that was it.

- All I can say is Seymour and Harry must be very proud of you.

- Oh, thank you very much.

- And thank you very much for talking with us.

- That's great.

Anytime.

It was my pleasure.

Thanks again.

Thank you very much.

It's always good to be with you.

- Thank you.

- What a pleasure for me.

(upbeat music) - [RHEA] What a wonderful man.

and what an interesting family, and what wonderful food.

Now, if you can't make it to Lombard Street in Baltimore, check out the Attmansphere at their other location in Potomac, Maryland, and their soon-to-open Harbor Point Deli.

But I see our intrepid corned beef travelers, Marcellus and Ilan, are here for their marching orders.

And here are our two Jewish deli nomads.

Thank you both for stopping by.

- Are you kidding?

Any excuse to come to Attman's.

- What he said.

- Now I wanna know are you ready to eat your way across Maryland?

- Absolutely.

Rhea, not being Jewish, is there anything a brother should be aware of?

- Don't worry about a thing.

By the end, you are gonna be dropping Hebrew and Yiddish words like a pro.

- (laughs) Now that I've gotta see.

- Oh, it's on.

- And then we're gonna come back here so we can compare notes.

So, on your way, and don't forget to bring me back some matzo ball soup.

- Anything for you, Rhea.

- What he said.

(all laughing) (waves breaking) (seagulls squawking) (lively upbeat music) - So what do you think of when you think of Ocean City?

Sun, surf, seafood, the boardwalk?

Well, we're asking you to think again because there's an absolute gem of a Jewish deli just up the road.

Rosenfeld's Jewish Deli.

From latkes to Reubens, they've got everything on their menu to satisfy even the most discerning Jewish deli fans.

Let's head inside and chat with owner, Warren Rosenfeld, about his mission to bring this to the shore.

(upbeat music) So Warren, Jewish Deli, Ocean City?

What prompted you to move here?

- I retired here at the age of 57.

I was bored within a month.

I had worked 70 hours a week my whole life.

I thought I would enjoy riding my bike and working out every day and walking.

But I was gonna do that anyway.

My wife basically said, "Before I kill you, what is it that you want to do for the rest of your life?"

So I went with the Jewish deli, just started downloading menus from all over the country, seeing what they had in common, creating my own menu.

That was really the first step in the entire process.

- And is this your only location?

- No, this was the original location, but I now have delis in South Bethany, Delaware, Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, and in suburban Wilmington, Delaware.

- So Warren, looking at your menu, I love the fact that I'm seeing all of these different names on there.

What and who are these people?

- Yeah.

Every item is named after a relative, uncles, aunts, wife, children, cousins, and most of them have passed, and most of them have passed for decades.

So I have an Uncle Ralphie, Uncle Seymour, and Aunt Judy.

I have a Papa Joe who was my grandfather, Papa Sally was my grandfather, Mama Rose, Mama Fannie, those were my grandmothers.

But everybody attached to a sandwich is a real person.

My brother-in-law, Paul, that's the traditional Reuben.

He passed about a year and a half ago.

So it brings me great pleasure, and I get great emotion even today from my cooks yelling, "Hey, the Papa Joe is up."

"Hey, does that Uncle Seymour's have coleslaw?"

"How big is the Aunt Judy's?"

You know, that kind of thing.

It keeps these people alive in my heart, and it brings me great pleasure to hear their names every single day.

- Nothing like paying homage to family, right?

- Right.

- What is it that you have on your deli that kind of separates you from the run-of-the-mill Jewish deli?

- One thing that sets us apart is I don't serve any shellfish products, I don't serve any pork products.

You go into some of the traditional delis, even though they're not kosher, and they don't mean to be kosher, they will serve pork products or shellfish, which is not kosher.

I'm not kosher here, but I felt that serving pork or shellfish would violate the sensibilities of even the average Jewish person, so I don't serve those.

Other than that, I wanted to have a Jewish food museum, so I have kishka, which we don't sell a tremendous amount of, but people are thrilled to see it.

I have kugel, latkes, lox, Dr. Brown's, everything you can imagine, everything a traditional Jewish deli would have.

Black and white cookies, U-Bet chocolate syrup, all of that stuff, I make sure that we have it here.

- So I love all the Jewish touches that you have on your menu, but I also understand that you're somewhat of a scholar as well.

Yeah, I don't consider myself a scholar, but I was given a two-year scholarship back in 2003 to engage in Jewish studies for a two-year period of time.

It was the Wexner Heritage Foundation, and it was all expenses paid.

We went to Israel, we went to other places, but when we graduated from there, they said to us, "The one thing we're asking you to do, "we've paid for everything for two years.

"The one thing we're asking you to do "is just pay the religion forward somehow.

"Pay it forward."

So when I retired and I was thinking, "Gee, maybe I'd like to do a Jewish deli," I also thought about the Wexner Heritage Foundation and thought this would be the way to pay it forward.

Put Jewish delis in places that traditionally have not had Jewish delis.

So when I opened Ocean City location, it was the only Jewish deli in a 4,000 square mile area.

When I opened the Rehoboth Beach location, it was the only Jewish deli in the entire state of Delaware.

And Rosenfeld's both in Wilmington, South Bethany, and, again, in Rehoboth, we're still the only Jewish deli in the state of Delaware.

And I feel that I've paid the religion forward in that respect.

- That's awesome.

So you have this great brand with the Rosenfeld name.

One that you hold dear to your heart, and you think of your father every time you step into here, right?

- Right.

- This is a part of your heritage.

You have all these locations.

What do you see as the future of the Jewish deli?

- I think the Jewish deli will always remain.

The population has dispersed, the suppliers have gone away, but I think there will always be people to carry it on even in a minuscule volume.

I mean, maybe you'll have 30 nationwide, I know there'll be states that don't have any, but I think there'll always be a Jewish deli.

You know, it's a beef-based menu.

As long as somebody's willing to process corned beef or pastrami, there's gonna be a Jewish deli.

(upbeat music) - Tell me why you stopped.

- Because you have good food and the service is great.

I like the place.

I have a place on the beach, I have a condo on 133rd Street, and we come down often, and I like stopping here all the time.

- Are you from New York?

- New York City.

Yeah.

- How's the pastrami rate versus New York pastrami?

- It's as good as New York, and that's why I come here.

I like it because it's good.

- That's the best compliment you can give me.

- I'm not giving it because I like you.

I'm giving it because it's good.

(laughs) I appreciate that.

- And you gotta get an egg cream.

The egg creams here are the best.

Nobody else on the shore makes 'em.

- What is it about the egg cream that's so good?

- It's chocolate milk with fizzy water.

It's just a little something different.

So it's refreshing, but it's a little bit lighter than a chocolate milk, but when I think of an egg cream, I think of New Jersey, New York deli, and, say, it's the only place to get 'em around here.

- If I know I get a good corned beef sandwich at the Jewish deli, that's where I go.

- This isn't our take on anything.

It's not that we added this ingredient.

This is standard, what you grew up on, Jewish food.

- Well, there's nothing like that feeling of home, that's for sure.

- Well, you know, I've had people cry here, tell me that this reminds 'em of their mother, who's been gone a long time, or I'll have 70-year-old people tell me that they haven't had some of this food since they were bar mitzvahed at the age of 13.

And it's extremely satisfying.

I mean, the first month we were open, I had a guy cry.

He was eating matzo ball soup.

He said, "Never in a million years did I think "I'd be eating matzo ball soup on Coastal Highway in Ocean City."

And that's just a nice feeling that you're making a difference in people's lives.

- Rosenfeld's definitely made a difference in my life.

I am not the same man after eating that blueberry cobbler.

Well, like my man Warren says on his website, "Shalom, y'all."

- No matter what you order in a Jewish deli, you've gotta get something to drink, right?

Now you might think, "All right.

I'll just have a Coke or a Pepsi."

No.

If you're gonna grab a bite at a Jewish deli, you have to pick up a can of Dr. Brown's.

(upbeat music) Dr. Brown's has been around since 1869.

It's older than Coke and Pepsi, and it's been helping people wash down their corned beef, brisket, and pastrami for over 150 years.

Now, the first flavor of Dr. Brown's was Cel-Ray, made from celery seeds.

Yeah, you heard that right.

Celery-flavored soda.

Now, originally it wasn't a soda at all, but a tonic.

A cure-all for supposedly everything from jangled nerves to curing malaria.

Now, how did it end up in Jewish delis, you may ask.

Well, it all has to do with this little K on the can.

Dr. Brown's was the very first kosher soda in the world.

And with Coke not becoming kosher-certified until 1935, it was a no-brainer that Dr. Brown's became a staple in Jewish delis.

Today, Dr. Brown's comes in seven different flavors, including the classic Cel-Ray.

My personal favorite is Black Cherry.

Now here's the mystery.

Who was Dr. Brown?

One legend has it that he was a doctor who treated immigrant children in New York City.

His mission was to treat bowel and stomach discomfort, but instead his tonic turned into the go-to drink at Jewish delicatessens.

Now, was he a real person or just a clever marketing ploy?

No one seems to know, but one thing's for sure.

Next time you go to a Jewish deli, make sure to grab one before placing your order.

(pop-top can popping) L'chaim, Doc.

(upbeat music) That's good!

(upbeat music)