The pastrami is piled high, almost spilling off the rye bread. The pickles are sour and crunchy, served in a little bowl on the side.
The matzo ball soup is warm and comforting, the kind of thing your grandmother might have made if your grandmother owned a deli. This old-school Jewish deli in Virginia is worth the drive from anywhere.
I ordered a Reuben and sat at the counter, watching the staff move with the efficiency of people who have done this a thousand times. The corned beef was tender, the sauerkraut was tangy, and the Russian dressing tied it all together…