I feel like eating at Katz’s Delicatessen in the Lower East Side is a right of passage to living in New York. It’s as if you’re a part of the history, the fabric of this ever changing melting pot of Manhattan. I like to sit there with my sandwich and think of the girl, like me, sitting there in 1888 or who actually sent a salami to their boy in the army in World War II… and I like knowing that I can always count on it to be there because what’s New York without Katz?

Recreating “I’ll have what she’s having.” When Harry Met Sally, captured by Meagan