Slow Down, Shut Up, and Make a Sandwich

I'm having a love affair with Husky Deli. This could be because you don't see many classic beauties of Husky Deli's ilk around town anymore. A family-owned delicatessen with Depression-era roots, Husky Deli has been unwavering in its commitment to serve high quality, reasonably priced meat, cheese, candy, homemade ice cream, and specialty foods to a loyal throng of customers for as long as most Seattleites can remember.

Husky Deli's imprint can be found in the stomach lining of those who don't even know where it is. Despite the fact that Husky Deli is nestled way off in the "island" of West Seattle (the Alaska Junction, specifically), it'll deliver damn near anywhere—and on holidays to boot. Take my Aunt Dicki, for instance. Husky Deli has delivered a large meat-and-cheese platter to her home near Nathan Hale High School every Christmas Eve for the last decade-plus, and before then to her parents' home up the hill in Alicia Park for a half-century more. Aunt Dicki had no idea where Husky Deli was until I told her last week, and yet the place has been an indelible part of her life since she was old enough to walk.

My relationship with the deli has been decidedly more up close and personal. Since moving to South Delridge last June, my trips there have increased in frequency, to the point where a voyage to California Avenue for salami, roast beef, horseradish cheese, rye bread, bacon potato salad, and peanut-butter-cup ice cream has become something of a Sunday staple. It's made me forget about the 10 pounds I've been meaning to shed, and rationalize that a carnivorous winter coat is more utilitarian this time of year anyway, and I've got a better half who thinks beer guts are cute (thank God for that). It's made me appropriately devalue supermarket express lanes, mind-blowing variety, and robot-like efficiency and thrust service with a smile, hand-picked quality, and colorful yarns steeped in neighborhood lore to the fore instead. It's made me slow the hell down, take a long walk, make my own sandwich, put down the phone, enjoy real conversation, and stop staring at screens, if only for a too-short spell. What church is for some people, Husky Deli is for me.

If you ask West Seattleites what they like most about their neighborhood, the attributes they'll likely name—laid-back pace, affordability, small-town-within-a-big-city charm—are all more or less embodied by Husky Deli. What a glorious affair it's been.

mseely@seattleweekly.com