To the People who Love Canter's Deli:

Stop it.

Everyone has one friend who LOVES Canters. They suggest it every time a group of 3 or more are hungry and, once a week, they go out of their way to mention a craving for those pickles and bagel chips they have. I understand going out of your way to get a really good steak, or driving an extra 15 minutes to get to the bar that's got your favorite beer on tap. But Canter's is a deli.

As a matter of convention, they serve basic foods you can buy in a grocery store. If we boil this down to Canters' basic function as an establishment, you're really paying these people to assemble 3 or 4 ingredients into a sloppy stack or bowl of those 3 or 4 ingredients.

But what restaurant doesn't? Isn't the point of eating out that someone else prepares the meal while you and your homeys talk shit on your friends who aren't there? Yes, absolutely. But the process of going to Canter's is an absolute nightmare. Not only do you have to wait in line no matter when you eat, but parking there is impossible considering the additive cluster-fuck effects of being Melrose-adjacent and across the street from a high school.

So once you've performed the Herculean tasks of finding parking, standing in line, and getting sat at a table, you get to eat some food that looks shockingly like food you can make in your own fucking house. I'm sorry, but if I'm going to pay 12 dollars for a sandwich, it better include a hand job and free valet.

Canter's does not.

Believe me... I asked about the hand job and was pointed toward a 50 year-old Eastern European battle-axe who stuck out her palm for 'tventy fife dollas'. Cheap. Not free.