October 22, 2008

On Zingerman’s Deli, Ann Arbor, Michigan

It all started on the granite countertop in my oldest friend’s kitchen. I was calmly sipping on a latte when I eyed the stack of catalogs idly waiting to be sorted along with the mail. Sitting innocently at the top of the stack was the Zingerman’s food catalog, a charming character, unassuming and shy about the treasures that lay inside. I picked it up. “Have you heard of Zingermans?!” yelped my friend sitting next to me. I shook my head, only to ignite a sea of praise about the jams, cheeses, breads, meats, baked goods (the list goes on) that hail from Zingerman’s.

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