Kosher baloney...a bit better.
Mortadella, though, now you've got something.
It's kind of like the English/Scottish/Irish/Ozzie ability to make an inappropriate/offensive/crass statement sound nothing short of charming. Italians can do this exact thing, too, as it relates to baloney (among other things). Mortadella, a deli meat/cold cut that was originally made by grinding ingredients to a paste with a mortar and pestle (hence the name) and then reformed into a sausage, is something bordering on perfection. I've had the opportunity to eat good mortadella in two separate occasions within the last week. Once at La Ciccia (30th/Church) as part of the salumi platter, and again on a sandwich with cuts that I had picked up at Lucca (22nd/Valencia) prior to hitting Dolores Park. Very good stuff without the stigma of the red-ringed WTF that paired so well with yellow mustard and white bread during my childhood. Mortadella can stand up to the tastiest prosciutto, copa or salami in reputation, as well as taste.
Don't get me wrong. I'm trashy. I like baloney. But, in those instance where I need to put on the appearance that I wouldn't...
1.) drink a tallboy can of Bud
2.) in a Smokey and The Bandit-era Trans-Am
3.) in cut-off jean shorts
4.) while listening to Molly Hatchet
5.) on a Tuesday at 2pm
6.) at the drop of a hat, given the chance...
...I now have my go to.
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