2008 Woodie Awards
New Deli on Amsterdam Embraces Fusion, Diversity
Miriam Segura
Issue date: 9/20/05 Section: Arts & Culture
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The storefront formerly known as Poppa Iggy's was filled this week by a newcomer to the Yeshiva eatery scene: Aris' Deli. Heralded by a campus-wide mass distribution of maroon refrigerator magnets, the underground and word-of-mouth tactics currently popularizing this new venue are indicative of its ethos and ambiance.
Decorated with a minimalist edge that is a cross between your bubby's kitchen and a Manhattan studio apartment, Ari's Deli embodies the mixing of the counter-cultural with the right at home. Bob Marley, NoFX, and Carlebach mix it up on the stereo; heimishe deli roll and Dominican fried plantain tostones make cameos on the menu. With its laid-back vibe and copious amounts of reasonably priced fleish, Ari's Deli has the potential to become the locus of convergence for both the hocker and hipster populations at Yeshiva.
Moving beyond the comfortable borders of ordinary deli sandwiches, the proprietor, Ari, describes his cuisine as "Texas-Dominican-Deli-Gourmet Fusion." The menu's customizability bespeaks the diversity implied by this multi-hyphenated moniker. Aside from a varied list of suggested combinations and house specials with surprisingly cute names, a factorial decision tree of custom-made sandwiches can be constructed from the variety of meats, breads, veggies, and condiments on the menu. Of note are some of the more unusual sandwich flavorings, such as the onion marmalade (delicious in a turkey wrap, by the way). Numerous vegetarian options are offered; a boon to female patrons with a horror of being fleishig. Portion sizes are generous, the smallest being slightly more than I could finish unassisted; and costs are, in general, very modest, with the odd exception of the chicken nuggets.
The deli is rather difficult to hang out or schmooze in; space limitation is the venue's most glaring problem. Ventilation, too, is somewhat lacking: your shirt might smell like french fries if you linger too long. Thankfully, emblazoned "Aris' Deli" chairs on the street will provide a convenient munching (and airing) station until the extreme cold sets in.
Decorated with a minimalist edge that is a cross between your bubby's kitchen and a Manhattan studio apartment, Ari's Deli embodies the mixing of the counter-cultural with the right at home. Bob Marley, NoFX, and Carlebach mix it up on the stereo; heimishe deli roll and Dominican fried plantain tostones make cameos on the menu. With its laid-back vibe and copious amounts of reasonably priced fleish, Ari's Deli has the potential to become the locus of convergence for both the hocker and hipster populations at Yeshiva.
Moving beyond the comfortable borders of ordinary deli sandwiches, the proprietor, Ari, describes his cuisine as "Texas-Dominican-Deli-Gourmet Fusion." The menu's customizability bespeaks the diversity implied by this multi-hyphenated moniker. Aside from a varied list of suggested combinations and house specials with surprisingly cute names, a factorial decision tree of custom-made sandwiches can be constructed from the variety of meats, breads, veggies, and condiments on the menu. Of note are some of the more unusual sandwich flavorings, such as the onion marmalade (delicious in a turkey wrap, by the way). Numerous vegetarian options are offered; a boon to female patrons with a horror of being fleishig. Portion sizes are generous, the smallest being slightly more than I could finish unassisted; and costs are, in general, very modest, with the odd exception of the chicken nuggets.
The deli is rather difficult to hang out or schmooze in; space limitation is the venue's most glaring problem. Ventilation, too, is somewhat lacking: your shirt might smell like french fries if you linger too long. Thankfully, emblazoned "Aris' Deli" chairs on the street will provide a convenient munching (and airing) station until the extreme cold sets in.