Girlfriend has been hoping to take me to some polish restaurant since the middle of my no buy January stint. I refused on grounds of the challenge. Though with a free February Sunday we had the day together and made our way over for a late lunch.

-Can I sneak in something about how horrified I am at the pleasant weather? Early February should be dead of winter. It was beautiful spring weather. I cannot shake the dystopian unreal feeling. I am frightened. –

It is one of those unassuming places that always turn out to be worth their own highway billboard. Sickening that we live in a world where Long Horn steakhouse occupies the primo real estate rather than such an excellent family business such as The Red Rock deli which she whipped her tiny white car into the parking space as though it were a hummer. Just part of a strip mall. Small sign above the single entrance. The only advertising being a prop sign by on the curb promising ‘Schnitzel fest’. Again I curse our society which sees the $5 meal deal plasticine signage cluttering up your desert vistas view for a McDonald’s ad. If I saw this sign anywhere else, I would be pulling over to investigate.

However, upon entering the store/restaurant I see they like it small. We were asked to seat ourselves and waited upon the woman behind the desk to bring us a menu. Most of the 10 tables were occupied with a diverse population of patrons and dishes by the looks. From the kitchen I hear a phone ring, followed by a slam, and in accented English command “No more phone order”. I smiled internally.

The woman hurried from the rear with two menus. A pierogi menu looking to have been whipped up recently in a word doc, and the stores laminated front and back. She introduced herself and welcomed us. And then went on to explain the selection offered, careful to point out which dry erase marker scribbled out pierogi flavors were regrettably unavailable. The sale going on with schnitzel fest. And their drink offering. All in a kind yet short-of-breathed explanation. English not being her first language, yet charmingly understandable. Immediate admiration for this woman and establishment within the first few minutes. She left us to decide.

I perused happily, phone in hand to google the occasional unknown item. “Coffee European style” caught my attention. She had warned that it is very strong. Challenge accepted. I wouldn’t dare to pass up one of the five schnitzel varieties as part of the fest and had my mind made up on Hungarian version. My companion has been talking up the pierogi game for weeks and seeing the ‘russian roulette’ option with ‘six chefs choice pierogis’ I was certain. As we waited to give our order two elderly women made their way out with cheerful goodbyes to behind the counter. One of them implored us to try the Borscht, and damnit I would with a recommendation as heart felt as that.

I cared not that I ordered half the menu. I am still struggling with my when in rome attitude to every day which I am sure contributes to my gaining weight and lightening wallet. Oh well. She took our order, gf getting the Guinness sausage (to my heart’s delight).

I peered around the quaint store. Mostly jars and jams and canned items. Some frozen goods, sausages and fish mostly, as well as what must be homey polish condiments and household necessities. It was like my very own Disney gift shop. Or at least I assume that’s what those freaky Disney adults must be like when they first visit the magic kingdom. Disgusting.

The lunch rush was subsiding, and my coffee was brough out. I sturdy teacup filled with a foamed dark liquid. A tiny pitcher of milk and sugar dispenser with it. I sipped. Dark, strong, bitter, coffee. Just as promised. And as far as I can tell my new favorite cup in the city. I’d return just for that.

The food took some time but eventually arrived. A grand sampling of polish delights. Pickled veggies and sauerkraut accoutrements. Mustard and strangely sour cream with everything in sample cups. The red borscht stood out with a house made roll, cut and buttered fresh. I dipped the bread in the red liquid, which I know would stain my shirt down to my socks, and savored the new to me flavor. Delicious. The plate wide schnitzel atop a potato pancake topped with mushrooms and a brown gravy called me next. Needing I knife I dug out a large first bite and could see why this is the quintessential northern European dish. The pierogi’s were center stage and we took turns trying halves of the mystery flavors. Each one distinct and regrettably the cheese and potato filled one was the clear favorite for both of us. I blame an underdeveloped palette. I had a few bites of her sausage, served in a roll with a mountain of kraut and slathered with a seedy mustard. It was like drinking a Guiness alongside the best, juiciest bratwurst you’ve ever had.

Despite the quantity I managed everything but half of the huge schnitzel. I was happy to take it home. Before paying at the counter were took a closer look through the store and found many items worth a try were we not so full. The bill was extraordinarily fair. I can’t wait to spread the word and return myself.

And I didn’t even mention the amount of Guy Fieri memorabilia on the walls from when he stopped by for an episode of Diner’s, Dine In’s, and Dives. I agree with his signed poster by the door.

“Red Rock Deli, keep cookin.”

3.8/5