Photo by Cheryl Baehr
Photo by Cheryl Baehr
In preparing to open Deli Divine (5501 Delmar), a project roughly a decade in the making, restaurateur Ben Poremba consulted few, if any cookbooks. Instead, he picked up a tattered copy of a book on Jewish humor, went through old black-and-white photographs from a family friend, and assembled various sizes of the blue cornflower–emblazoned CorningWare that you’d find in just about every home kitchen in the 1950s–1980s, along with orange Tupperware containers and coffee percolators. In Poremba’s mind, setting a mood for Deli Divine was just as important as the food, if not more so.
“I wanted to give people a comprehensive experience,” Poremba says. “Just listen to the playlist: It’s music from the '50s, Yiddish, Hebrew—I imagine my grandmother listening to it on a transistor radio in her home. This is a specifically American Jewish experience; you don’t get delis like this in Israel because it’s the kind of evolution that happened to Eastern European Jewish culture in America. I want it to feel immersive.”
Photo by Cheryl Baehr
For the past two years, Poremba has been working alongside Build-A-Bear founder Maxine Clark, who's now chief inspirator of the Delmar Divine, a hub for nonprofits located in the former St. Luke’s Hospital building on Delmar Boulevard, to bring to life his vision for a fiercely authentic Jewish deli. After a complete buildout, numerous trips to traditional Jewish delis around the country, and uncountable hours spent bringing to life the food that embodies Jewish American traditions, Poremba and his team are finally ready to welcome guests to Deli Divine on May 1.
The Concept
You can’t understand Deli Divine without understanding Delmar Divine, the complex in which it resides. The brainchild of Clark, the Delmar Divine project is the realization of her vision to transform the former St. Luke’s complex into a multi-use facility that will serve as a hub for area nonprofits, a retail space, apartments geared toward those working in social services, and an anchor for the surrounding community that sits directly on the city’s notorious Delmar Divide.
Photo by Cheryl Baehr
Poremba, himself a civic-minded entrepreneur, had been talking to Clark since she began sketching out her vision for Delmar Divine. During a particular chat, she brought up to him that the surrounding area had once been a vibrant Jewish neighborhood, something he had not previously known. That history, coupled with their parallel discussions about what sort of food concept the complex should have, led Poremba to realize his long-held Jewish deli idea might be just the right thing for the building’s restaurant space. Clark agreed, and after receiving 100 percent buy-in from the neighborhood-focused board of directors, they went all in on bringing to life Poremba’s idea for a traditional New York–style Jewish deli.
Poremba always knew that, should he ever bring his Jewish deli idea to life, it would not be from a place that made sense for business. It would be from his soul. “Things needed to work here, not on a cerebral level but on an emotional level,” Poremba says. “I made this promise to myself that this would be a fully gut emotional decision from where it was going to be, to what it was going to look like, to building a menu. Everything here was decided from that, even if sometimes it was maybe not in the best interest of me and my business. I’m serious about that. It’s crazy, but I really wanted this to be an emotional experience for me to build it and for my customers to experience.”
Photo by Cheryl Baehr
Deli Divine owner Ben Poremba
To that end, Poremba called upon not only his own Jewish heritage but also the story of the Jewish American experience in all of its cultural manifestations: food, humor, music, art, intellectual. He saw the deli as the perfect lens through which to tell this story, so he set out to capture its various iterations, from the sky-high piled meats of Carnegie Deli to the smoked fish served at Russ & Daughters to the iconic bagel and schmear shops that dot New York City’s dining landscape.
“I wanted to be ambitious enough to bring a bit of all of it,” Poremba says.
The Food
When Clark first approached the neighborhood surrounding Delmar Divine about what they wanted in a restaurant, the residents were unanimous: No fast food, but nothing too fancy. Deli Divine hits that note with traditional Jewish deli fare ranging from bagels and lox to smoked fish, egg salad knishes, soups, and sandwiches.
Those interested in classic deli sandwiches begin by selecting either Jewish Rye or pumpernickel bread, deli mustard of famous sauce (a riff on Durkee Famous Sauce), and choosing from such meats as corned beef, lean pastrami, soft beef salami, or beef tongue. Sandwiches are also offered as combos, which consist of two or more meats piled on top of each other, or deckers, which pairs two or more meats, separated by slices of bread.
Photo by Cheryl Baehr
A variety of Reubens are available, as are Deli Divine composed sandwiches, such as the Frieda (pairing hand-sliced hot pastrami with yellow mustard) or the Herta (consisting of shaved beets, cole slaw, sliced tomato, garlic pickles, and Swiss cheese). All four of the Deli Divine sandwiches are named after Poremba’s grandmother, uncle, and aunts, who survived the Holocaust. Their other five siblings did not.
Photo by Cheryl Baehr
Bagels are destined to be one of Deli Divine’s most popular offerings, and Poremba is confident in his product, which he sourced from a New York company that bakes them to a certain point and ships them to the deli twice per week; Poremba’s team finishes baking them every morning, so customers get an ultra-fresh, authentic New York–style bagel.
“We made a conscious decision that we cannot bake the bagels, so we struck a deal with this New York company,” Poremba says. “It’s a true, authentic New York bagel—not boutique or artisanal but a true New York bagel that is chewy and soft, and it’s the closest thing you would have to Ess-a Bagel or H&H in New York. I’m very proud of this product; 99 percent of delis don’t bake their own bagels. Bagel shops do. I am not a bagel shop.”
The Atmosphere
Photo by Cheryl Baehr
Poremba says he intentionally tried to make Deli Divine look and feel chaotic—a hallmark of the quintessential New York deli experience. Guests enter the building and can either go to the right for sandwiches or to the left for appetizings, which includes the bagels and prepared foods. To the back of the building is a market where patrons can pick up a variety of curated goods, such as fresh cheeses, pastas and sauces, condiments, cakes, snacks, and packaged beverages.
Photo by Cheryl Baehr
For the aesthetics, Poremba says he wanted the place to look like it had always been there, and he chose an intentionally chaotic aesthetic to evoke this feeling. Colors are those you might find on the set of the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, while milk crates and cardboard packing boxes serve as display shelves. The restaurant has seating in the front deli area and in the back market; the deli also offers outdoor seating in the front of the building and in an interior courtyard just off the market space.
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Photo by Cheryl Baehr
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Photo by Cheryl Baehr
Photo by Cheryl Baehr
The photographs that make up much of the deli’s décor are especially meaningful to Poremba. Taken by a late, family friend, Joseph Zimbrolt, the black-and-white portraits depict a cast of characters that Zimbrolt met over the years. They animate a space that feels like it's already had a full life, even though it's not yet officially opened its doors.
“I want people to understand how much thought and detail went into this,” Poremba says. "We were obsessed with the small details and the big details but figured that some of the things in the middle will happen as the deli gets its own life. It’s like we put a frame around it and a couple of small details, and the rest of the puzzle will be filled by people, customers, and time.”
