New Year’s is a cliche and a half which doesn’t make the reflection aspect any less important.  Looking back on the last year of my life I see the obvious enormous changes.  A year ago I was managing someone else’s restaurant although by this time last year I had a fully formed idea that my calling was Deli.  I took that  idea and formed a plan towards its realisation.  Being broke I had to keep it simple.

Plan A – Street Food Stall

This seemed to me to be the best possibility although I laugh to think how disastrous it would have been. Thank God the politicians at City Hall got involved and totally screwed up the simplest idea of diversifying Toronto’s street food.  Instead of being ready to meet my timetable to launch in May 2008, these cats won’t be ready for at least another year because they attach public policy goals to what should be a simple supply/demand exercise (with the obvious health considerations).  Seeing these delays coming a mile away I formed another plan, aptly named Plan B.

Plan B – Toronto’s Tiniest Takeout

When my friend Jennifer Italiano opened “Live”, her revolutionary and delicious raw/organic resto, she did it in the littlest possible space on Dupont near Spadina.  Whilst managing a spot not far away I watched the current tenant’s business go south and I knew I’d have a crack at the space sooner or later.  I figured if it helped Jennifer launch her business it was certainly good enough for me.  Of course french fries weren’t part of Jennifer’s raw food revolution and she wasn’t smoking briskets by the score.  I thought I could simply make fries the old fashioned way: in a basket dunked in a pot of oil on a stovetop until Ezra of beloved Ezra’s Pound asked me a profound question.  ”Are you fucking nuts,” he said “you’re going to hurt yourself if you get busy and you will get busy.”  Call it low self esteem or poor planning but I never figured this little business would take off so fast.  Ezra knew different and quickly convinced me to look elsewhere.  That’s when I told him about the opportunity at the Monarch Tavern which soon became known as Plan C.

Plan C – The Monarch

The very same afternoon Ezra put the kibosh on Plan B I called Louis Cristello, one of the owners of the Monarch (as well as an owner of the Brunswick Pump, The Banknote and Southside Louis’) to discuss the availability of his kitchen.  I knew that a full kitchen existed there because I’ve been a customer for many years, bringing my sandwiches sausage and olives up from San Francisco to watch Leaf games.  I remembered a Greek couple that last used the facilities around the time the Leaf’s last made the playoffs and also that they disappeared within a few months.  The bartender at the time told me that the tenant was not paying rent but when they asked him to cover his share of the utilities he refused and walked away.  Then and there, three years ago, I filed away knowledge that would change my life, knowledge that will be forever known as Plan C.

Louis and I met and quickly made an agreement for a one year lease.  I’m pretty sure he and his partners Larry and James thought I was nuts.  Who would want to come to the Monarch, a long forgotten corner for Toronto’s working class drinkers for Jewish Deli?  How would anyone find me tucked in the back of a bar on the second floor of a bar two blocks from any walk-by traffic?  Some might call it dank or even a dive bar but I’ve always liked the room.  It has tradition, style and history.  Like the Leafs themselves it has been the scene for deep and long-term frustration.  But if you look in the cracks in the upholstery or under the ancient marble tables or even deep in the souls of the regulars like Eddy, Rich, Craig, Joe or John you might just find some hope.  Maybe this year it’ll be different.  Maybe this year we’ll win a few games.  Maybe we’ll make the playoffs and bring back some pride to the place.

I think the sentence “You know The Monarch has the best (insert any noun here)” has probably never been uttered – until recently.  Now we have Toronto’s Best Smoked Meat Sandwich (according to Now Magazine) and Toronto’s best Knish (according to me) and Toronto’s best poutine (also according to me). 

I’m proud of what we’ve started and am committed to seeing this through.  Clearly I haven’t done it alone and I take great pride in giving credit where its due.  The last year has seen the realisation of a lifelong dream and the coming year, God willing, will see that dream flourish and grow.  When I look into my crystal ball I see chopped liver and kishka and if I squint really hard I see a guy in a blue and white jersey hoisting a silver cup over his head.  A boy can dream, can’t he?  After all, without our dreams, where would we be?  Go Leafs Go!  

Best wishes to all for a year where our cups overflow with good fortune, health and peace.

I’m exhausted.  In previous lives/careers I’ve worked trade shows but working a food show is way harder.  Not only do you have to be “on” and engage people but you have to slice meat at the same time.  Fortunately I love what I do and watching people enjoy the fruits of my labour gives me a real charge.  So it was with the Good Food Hall in honour of Gremolata’s web relaunch at Hart House’s Great Hall tonight.  Starting at 6pm the whole thing was pretty much a total blur until we ran out of food at 8.30.  Who knew I could cut 150 lbs of brisket that fast?  Luckily I had new and awesome Adrian by my side putting together sandwiches and making the trip down and up to the UofT kitchens where our meat was gently warming.  

Thanks to all who stopped by for your kind comments.  I especially loved the moans and grunts you made after you made it to the front of what seemed like a neverending line and wrapped your lips around our smoked meat.  Kudos and thanks to host Malcolm Jolley for a wonderful event.  My only regret was that I missed CBC’s Evan Solomon who dropped into the deli while we were off galavanting.  At least CBC friend Natalie Ruskin had the good taste to attend the event.

Just a mini update on a recent change of massive proportions.  Please be advised that Caplansky’s now offers our smoked meat two ways: regular or fatty.  It’s frustrating that sometimes people order lean and then tell me the sandwich was dry.  Of course it was dry, thats how they ordered it.  We’ll still cut the sandwich any way customers wish but this is our way of saying these are the two cuts that represent us best.

Also, while the name may have been cute, I don’t have the chutzpah to call my fries with curds and gravy “Jewtine”.  Under Jewish dietary guidelines mixing milk with meat is a no-no even and though we’re far from kosher it just didn’t sit well with me.  Poutine on the other hand is a favourite of my nephew Benjamin and even though niece Talia is vegetarian she may be tempted to tuck into a bowl.  Let’s call her flexatarian because she’s also known to enjoy matzoh ball soup.  Here’s lookin’ at you, kids.

What a week!  Jesse came in on Monday and taught me to make a smoked meat gravy with brisket trimmings, spices, onion, garlic, thyme, rosemary and roasted chicken stock. We started serving it on Tuesday with real cheddar cheese curds and the reviews have been amazing.  It took us till the end of the week to get those curds to ooey gooey melty perfection but thats to be expected.  After all, this whole experience is a work in progress. Of course we ran out earlier today but thats part of our charm.  Funny enough the last customer was David, a money manager from New York.  If anyone needed the warm gooey comfort of my poutine it was him.

Wednesday was our busiest day ever.  In addition to the usual lunch and dinner craziness Sam placed a big take out order for a meeting of his doctor friends.  He asked for smoked turkey so I made another batch special.  It went great except we forgot the pickles.  I could only die.  Sam is special to me for reasons that I won’t go into but I will say that he is the holder of a generations old pickle recipe and if there’s one person you don’t want to short-pickle, its him.  To his credit he didn’t give me a hard time.  He’s a mench and a half.

Once we sent his order we declared an “All Hands on Deck” – 6 of us working for a worthy cause: feeding 60 of David and Lauren’s nearest and dearest.  A power deli-couple to be sure, it was her birthday and his farewell party.  In the afternoon I got a call from Rebecca in New York asking if I could put two candles in a knish and include a card from her and beau Miller.  Could I?  It was hilarious as well as delicious. Malcolm Jolley of Gremolata.com fame was there along with the Globe and Mail’s Sasha Chapman so the pressure was on.  Lauren assured me that everyone had a wonderful time and wrote the loveliest note. She and I even started making plans to carpool to New York.  David is a very lucky man.

Thursday morning I was dead.  Deader than dead.  In perfect shape to receive Mio Adelman and a full camera crew from CBC TV.  We filmed two spots for Living in Toronto: one about the meat and another about my mustard. Its all a blur but Mio said his editor salivated all over the control board.  Thankfully Thursday was not so crazy business wise but Friday was Friday which means: have a decent breakfast and get ready to work.  Saturday was much the same although it was totally manageable with Megan running the floor and Michael and Ariel handling kitchen duties.  

My own role is to jump in wherever needed: taking orders, running food or washing dishes. Mostly I like to connect with customers particularly ones like Avery Platt, four month old son of Aaron and Amy. They came in Saturday before the rush.  Adorable? That’s his middle name.  Actually its Bernard but I’m willing to bet his first word will be knish.  He gurgled something to that effect while chewing on a rubber giraffe, I think, because I tried convincing his folks my knish is so soft you don’t even need teeth and that they should give him some. 

After work last night I went to Jesse’s resto (Trevor) to try his beef cheek chevre nachos.  Unfortunately Jesse was out with a cold but his nachos were awesome.  That was my third visit and I highly reccomend just sitting at the bar and ordering a grazing experience.  If Jesse’s there let him know I sent you (I get commission).  The man is an incredible chef.  Upon leaving I found Richard, my staff member Richard, smooching on the street with his lovely g/f.  Rich came in early today so I could come home early and make myself a steak.  I’ll go back to help close but this my friends was easily our busiest and best week ever.

Oh and Rob the designer sent me some ideas for a new logo which I loved and you should see new menus in a couple weeks as well as labels on mustard jars.  

Thank God I love this as much as I do and that I have such good people helping me.  This week should be fun too.  I’ll be at Gremolata’s Good Food Hall handing out free samples on Thursday if you’re in the neighborhood of U of T’s Hart House.

Holy knish, when will I learn?  Apologies to those who came in seeking our newest creation, the Vicious Knish, but we sold out of our first batch before the dinner rush tonight. I’ll have more tomorrow and under pain of death promise to have a fresh sample for Lara upon her return in two weeks time. At this rate my days off will be devoted to knish making but I can’t complain.  

Manny actually dropped by today to see customers’ reactions and to get a taste himself.  Mustard Mavin Brian Greenspan gave it two thumbs up and Manny left with a smile on his face and a few crumbs in his beard.

Special thanks to Andy of San Francesco fame for his naming suggestion and also to my brothers David and Mark for dropping by today and helping to demolish the first batch.  ”You can pick your friends,” my father used to say, “But your family are assigned.”  The strange thing is, even with all the water under our bridges – much of it choppy – I still found hugging them irresistible.  And hope springs eternal…

I’m not one to brag.  Really I’m not.  But… 

OMG! Earlier today my friend Manny and I made a knish that is the best I’ve ever tasted.  We made a filling of onions caramelized in shmultz mixed with potato and my smoked meat then wrapped it in a buttery puff pastry shell and baked it to a golden brown perfection.  The only problem is that if it doesn’t sell I’m going to have to eat the whole thing.  I don’t know that anything is really worth dying for but these knishes are certainly worth living for.

Please, come and save me from myself.  You won’t regret it.

P.S. I guess I can no longer say “I’m not one to brag.”, eh?  Well… Manny, a great cook, deserves most if not all the credit and my deep appreciation.

Hat’s off to Sarah Efron for coming to our opening and writing about it for the National Post’s online food blog The Appetizer:  http://network.nationalpost.com/np/blogs/theappetizer/default.aspx

I especially like the pic of Mike cutting meat by candle light.  Its actually a very telling pic with my house mustard in the foreground and my mom’s flowers as a backdrop.  Mike killed his back doing the cutting because the table was too low for the uber-tall filmmaker.  In fact the day after the party he shot a short film.  Mike is an awesome guy and we’re really lucky to have him.  He responded to a Craigslist ad I placed and confessed he had no kitchen experience.  ”But I love meat,” he promised.  In my world that counts more than experience.  He showed up on time and the interview went like this:

“Taste this,” I said handing him a juicy slice of my pastrami.  The look of utter joy on his face prompted me to ask one question:  ”When can you start”.

“Right now,” he said and work he did.  Mike started the day before NOW listed us in their “Best Sandwiches” Issue and we couldn’t have survived without him.  His passion for what we do is close to my own and although I know his first choice is a film career, he’s welcome at Caplansky’s for as long as he likes.  He even convinced me to hire his brother Richard and even though Rich is more of a veg lover he’s done great too.  In fact, Rich had his first day at GBC’s Culinary School today and I know he’ll make a fine chef some day.

Speaking of media, Toronto’s professional and online foodies have been wonderfully supportive of us.  The Globe, Star and NOW have all been very generous in their coverage and comments but after difficult or long days when I need a boost I read the reviews on Chowhound.  Chowhounders are famous for scathing reviews and they definitely let me know when we’ve disappointed them but for the most part they have been very supportive. So much so, in fact, that Steven Davey of NOW told me he was sceptical of me since the Chowhound reviews were “So over the top”.  ”I figured you hired a pr team to post this stuff for you,” he said making me laugh. “If I had the money to hire pr people, Steven, I wouldn’t have located in the Monarch,” I told him.  ”Oh I know,” he said.  ”Besides, I’ve been in and it is that good.” Thank you Steven.

It was a crazy summer as David Sax relates on his blog site www.savethedeli.com.  Discretion being the greater part of valor, Sax may have left out the person I met and fell in love with but he captured the spirit of the birth of Caplansky’s.  Perhaps the first two months were an appetizer or maybe the whole Monarch experience is.  Everyone seems to encourage me to move into my own digs and I can see myself heading in that direction.  The questions is where and when.

Frankly, I’m happy as well as confident that things will happen exactly as they need to. “The Universe is unfolding exactly as it should,” former Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau is quoted as saying.  I think he was right. All in due time.

Speaking of due time (Jew time?): Lara got me cheese curds from the spectacular Monforte Dairy and Jesse’s coming in for a gravy consult tomorrow.  Can you say “Jewtine”?  Yeah baby. Zaindle’s got a new menu item.

Thank you to everyone who helped make our Grand Opening such a wonderful success.  The musicians who volunteered their time, my suppliers who pitched in, my team of servers and cooks who brought their best, my family, friends and guests – well over 200 people in all – helped kick this little deli into high gear. It was really the bar mitzvah party I always wanted (mine was cancelled due to a death in the family).  And like any good Deli Mitzvah, I emerged feeling like I am now officially a Deli Man with all the rights and responsibilities that come with that.  

In various interviews and conversations I talk about my love for deli being “in my genes” but it wasn’t until Lara did some research that I found out that my namesake, Shnear Zalman Duchman live at 112 Nassau Street in Kensington Market.  Reb Duchman, my great-grandfather was one of Toronto’s first kosher butchers.  Lara discovered old listings in Toronto Jewish directories as well as archival photos and she made a gift of these for me on the day of my opening.  Later on in the evening my father confirmed that he actually lived in that same house himself in the 40’s.  All of which confirms that my affinity and desire to find a location for my deli in or near Kensington Market is “Beshert” –  meant to be.  

It was wonderful to have so many members of my family with me on this special day.  As many people know, I’ve had a difficult relationship with my family for many years and it was wonderful to have my parents at the party.  This is simply more evidence that when you follow your heart, anything can happen. Change is the only constant in life. And if I could come up with another worn out cliche I’d insert it here.  Sorry.

Speaking of being sorry, you’ll notice in the title of this posting we’re changing our hours to Tuesday to Sunday and closing on Mondays.  Please accept my apologies to anyone who shows up expecting service on Mondays but I simply need a weekday to get administrative things done and I appreciate your understanding as we grow and change to meet your needs. Once my staff is strong enough I expect to be open at least for lunch on Monday and late night on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays but that may take some weeks or months because Jessica and Ilana are resuming their studies and it’ll take some time for the new people to get upto speed.

I confess I’m having difficulty getting my head around the speed at which things have accelerated this summer but I better because I expect the pace will not abate into the Fall and Winter.  I promise I’ll never take my eye of the quality of the meat as we look to add new dishes to our card.  As mentioned in an earlier post, Poutine should be ready within a week or two. Actually, I’m thinking of calling it “Jewtine” instead of poutine because I want to top it with onions fried in chicken fat – a traditional Jewish side dish.  I’m also working on a knish recipe that incorporates my smoked meat and you’ll see new soups to go along with the borscht, matzoh ball and split you seem to enjoy.  Last, many have asked me to serve great coffee with Wanda’s pies but my kitchen is so tiny that adding any new element threatens to burst an already tight ship much like that infamous iceberg.  Ummm… that’s not funny. Forgive me: having delivered Lara to the airport this morning I’m feeling a little maudlin.  This too shall pass.  

The High Holidays will soon be upon us along with a chance for forgiveness and renewal.  Thanks again to everyone who helped make our humble beginnings a success and our opening party a grand one.