I, and a couple friends of mine, were driving down i80 after long day of skiing up in the mountains when we decided to out of our comfort zone and give Max's Bar and Restaurant a try. We are normally the cheese-burger on the road type of people, but felt a little adventurous that afternoon, so Max's it was.
Here was the first red flag: As everyone in the car googled the restaurant for a menu, we discovered that, lo and behold, there are TWO delis called Max's in Auburn, Ca (a town, I may add, with a population of little more than 10,000. I'm from Chicago, a city of three million, and there is only room for one deli called Max's, and its effing delicious. This place is an affront to the legacy of every deli called Max's in the world. But Ill get to that in second.) Back to the point. When we saw the photos of the juicy, succulent, heavily-sauced reuben's from the other Max's deli, our hearts were set. We ordered the sandwiches; our eyes, and stomachs, it appeared, had blinded our better sensibilities with visions of steaming pastrami and corned beef piles higher than the Tower of Babel.
Alright, everything's good so far, right? Not for long! We got off the highway for Max's, started salivating as we passed an In-and-Out Burger, and proceeded to pull into the parking of a Holiday Inn. There it was, red flag number two staring us smack dab in the face. We had ordered take out from a highway motel restaurant. They don't deign to mention that on their website, do they? Huh, I wonder why? Maybe it's because the taste of Max's food is just as insipid as the faux neo-colonial facade of the Holiday Inn that rents it the space?
Anyway, we had ordered the food twenty minutes earlier, which was the exact amount of time they said to give for the order to be completed when we called before, and so we decided to give it a go. And then, after about three blinks of the eye and one weary raise of the brow, we were presented with red flag number three. Yes, you guessed it: the food wasn't ready. I suppose they spent the extra ten minutes turning the pastrami into shoe leather.
Remember how I said we ordered Reubens? Delicious, thousand island dressing drenched corned beef and pastrami glory buns? Yeah, those. So we brought our food out the car ten minutes after they promised it would be done, and opened our boxes, only to find not flavorful, piping hot, marble-rye encrusted grease monsters, but an assortment of microwaved Safeway cold cuts shoved between two pieces of whole wheat cardboard. Was it turkey, dyed red? Honestly couldn't tell. Here's what it really was:Over cooked, undersauced, and wrong! Blatantly wrong. We ordered Reubens, and got deli meat sandwiches. That's like going to a Chance the Rapper concert only to find Ja Rule standing on the stage (and yes, that has happened to me). I would have been happier had my mother stuffed a slimy piece of bologna between two slices of wonder bread, wrapped it in tin foil, and packed it in my bookbag for lunch. At the least, it wouldn't have cost me 16 bucks.
So, folks, that's my experience from Max's deli. As I wrote this, we drove down I-80, and an odd pain started to poke at my still-half-empty belly. I wretched in agony, lifted my head, and stared at the ecclesiastical full moon in the distance as the sun set on what was otherwise a great verbal equinox. Looking at that glorious orb in the sky, I couldn't help but think that this was gods way of telling me I should have spent Easter with family. Too bad, I'm Jewish anyway.
And fine, the French fries were okay read more