What a Big Pickle You Have

The day after all of this happened, I got to meet up with yet another of my bestest bloggy buddies, Jules.  The last time we saw each other was on a hot and sunny day in New York City for BlogHer about a year and a half ago.  The weather was a bit chillier this time, and the location wasn’t quite as urban, but I wouldn’t have missed the chance to see her again, especially since I was on her home turf!

We planned to meet at a very famous deli, conveniently located right next to my hotel, called Harold’s.

Now, you might be wondering what is so darn impressive about Harold’s that would cause Jules to suggest this as our lunch spot, except for the convenient location, of course.  Well, Harold’s is famous for 2 things . . . the enormous size of its portions and the World’s Biggest Pickle Bar.

What big cakes you have there.

This was my first visit to the establishment, so I was a rookie to all things Harold’s.  Val had provided a few tips about the place, having visited a few times prior, and Jules had not been there since her teenaged years, so we settled in and looked over the expansive menu.  It was impressive.  And expensive.  A sandwich would run you about $20.  Some of the menu items were upwards of $50.  It was pretty crazy.  But like I said, the portions were enormous and every order came with unlimited visits to that pickle bar I mentioned earlier.

Once we placed our order for a very traditional deli sandwich, corned beef, of course, we had time to peruse the inside of the napkin provided.  It was very educational:

Yiddish 101

As we were waiting for our meal, the people at the table next to us were served their lunch.  The one item was so impressive, I had to ask if I could take a picture of it.  They very graciously allowed it.

World’s Largest Blueberry Pancake

When our meal arrived, we finally understood why it was a $20 sandwich.  Big enough to share, we had only ordered the one sandwich, and were not disappointed with the amount of food provided.

That sucker was big enough for each of us to have a half of the sandwich there, then take home the remaining meat to make more sandwiches later in the week.  I don’t know about Jules, but I got three more sandwiches out of it!  Now that’s a value.  Of course, it was lean and tender and delicious.  And the pickles that accompanied it were also fabulous.

Jules in action, picking her pickles.

But!  Not only did we have a delicious lunch, yummy pickles and fabulous conversation, but Jules even provided dessert!

Best. Cookies. EVER.

Yes, that is indeed 2 whole bags of triple chocolate chip cookies, lovingly homemade by Jules and given to yours truly.  Diet?  What diet?  They were probably the best cookies I’ve ever tasted in my life.  No hyperbole.  For real.

Sadly, Jules and I had to say adieu, when she dropped me at the train station to catch my train home.  I held out on eating any of the cookies (I was stuffed full of meat and pickles, so it wasn’t too hard), until after I passed Philly.  Sort of a “I made it through the danger zone” celebratory treat, if you will.  We’re not even gonna talk about the fact that I misread the departure time on my ticket, thus almost missing my train home.  Nope.  Let’s just focus on the cookies.  Delicious, delicious cookies.  Mmmmmm.

Thus ends the tales from my visit to the great state of Jersey.  Good friends, yummy treats and gay bars.  What more could a girl ask for?