My paternal grandparents became NY urban refugees to North Miami Beach in the 1970s. Your reminiscence was so evocative for me . When I was three or four, a beef tongue faced me at eye level in a New York deli's glass display case. As I looked at it in horrified fascination, it grew three times its size in my imagination and stuck that way for 30 years. The delicious aroma of a deli brings me back to those times. I like gefilte fish, and still cook matzo brei and kasha varnishkes. Your essay brought a little nostalgic tear to my eye.