Jaffe

Koch's

I moved to Philadelphia in the summer of 1994. I had taken my first job as a lab tech at the University of Illinois at Chicago the previous September, and when the head of the lab asked me to move with them to UPenn I was both nervous and excited. The plan was for me and a senior postdoc to move a few months ahead of the rest of the lab to set up and get things ready for everyone else. Outside of the one work colleague, I wouldn't know anyone in the entire state of Pennsylvania until the rest of the lab arrived.

I visited Philadelphia a month or two before the move with my parents, and found an apartment through the UPenn housing office. 4410 Pine St. looked good on a map; it was walking distance from the lab, just outside of the area that a lot of the undergraduates lived in. I lived on the second floor of a converted house, and although it was a bit 'lived in', it was the first apartment that was 100% mine - no roommates.

I spent the first couple of weeks sorting out the essentials - turning on the utilities, getting a phone, cable for the TV, etc. The house had a washer and dryer in the basement, which you had to go around to the back of the house to get to. It was disgusting, and I couldn't imagine how I could get my clothes clean in a basement so dirty, so after my first round of washing I decided it was time to find a laundromat. I found one a couple of blocks away, on Locust between 43rd and 44th, just opposite of a closed grocery store.

I used to go to the laundromat about once a week, normally on a Saturday or Sunday just before noon, when I could use 3 machines at the same time without getting in anyone's way. One of the first times I went I noticed a small deli a couple of doors up, Koch's deli, and decided to go in and grab a sandwich for lunch while I waited for my clothes to finish drying.

I walked in to find a deli counter and a line of people that double-backed on itself almost to the door. No tables or chairs, take-out only. Everyone seemed like a regular, chatting freely with each other and with the two guys who worked there. I read the menu written on the wall behind the counter. Everything looked really good, but by the time I realized that all of the hoagies were more than the $5 I had on me, I was in the middle of the line and was too embarrassed to squeeze my way out. In the end, I ordered a sandwich - turkey, I think. The guy behind the counter asked what I wanted on it. I paused, not knowing whether to ask if it would cost extra to have lettuce and tomato, which would have taken me over my $5. I told him I would have it plain, nothing on it. I remember his look, as if I was visiting from another planet, but he made the sandwich completely dry... nothing but bread and meat.

A couple of weeks later I went back to Koch's, and this time I was prepared. I ordered a honey turkey hoagie, no oil, no onion, with provolone cheese, and a cream soda. The two guys behind the counter introduced themselves: Lou and Bob Koch. Brothers. Lou worked at the front, and Bob towards the back. They remembered me from the first time (I suppose ordering a sandwich with nothing on it was something that stood out). I explained that I only had $5 at the time, and didn't know if it was enough money to have extras on my sandwich. I remember Lou telling me that I could have ordered whatever I wanted, and paid them back the next time I was in.

It was 1994.
I was 22 years old.
I didn't have any friends in Philadelphia.
And with one conversation Lou Koch made me feel like I had been living in the neighborhood my whole life.

Koch's became part of my weekly laundry routine. They opened around lunchtime, so if my timing was right, I could get my sandwich while my clothes were in the washer, and eat it while they were in the dryer. I rarely strayed from my honey turkey hoagie (no oil, no onion, with provolone) and cream soda, but would often add a potato knish to the order. Bob and Lou called me 'Chicago' most of the time, and always made me feel like they had been looking forward to seeing me all week.

Lou passed away in 1995. Koch's was closed for a little while, and when it reopened Bob moved to the front. I learned that Lou had died of a heart attack, and that he had been found in a grocery store parking lot, slumped over behind the wheel of his car. I also learned that although Bob was the guy in the back of the deli, he was the one who remembered everyone's name. When someone would come in, Lou would pretend he needed something from Bob's side of the deli counter, Bob would whisper the persons name ('Aron'), and Lou would come back to his side with a joke ('Hey Aron, did I ever tell you the one about the priest and the rabbi?').

I continued my laundry ritual over the next couple of years until I moved across the river and into center city in 1997. In that time I introduced anyone who visited me to Koch's deli. My parents visited, and while we waited for our sandwiches we found out that Dad and Bob both drove a Mitsubishi 3000GT. Bob gave Grandpa a little (OK, big) taste of chopped liver while Nana waited for us at their hotel because she wasn't feeling well ('Don't tell Nana!').

Once I moved to center city I went to Koch's less frequently, but no matter how long it had been since my last visit, Bob never forgot my order.

I don't know why I thought about Koch's today, but as I had a little walk down memory lane I found out that Bob Koch passed away in August, 2005.

KOCH
ROBERT E., Aug. 8, 2005, husband of Patricia (nee Wiley), brother of Dr. Barry Koch (Abby) and the late Louis Koch, stepfather of Charles Haub (Missi), David Haub (Shirley) and Michael Haub (Kristen), grandfather of Christina, Sophia, Matthew and Michael. Relatives and friends are invited to Graveside Services Wed. 12 noon precisely Har Jehuda Cem. (Section 10 commandments). Family will return to his late residence. Contributions in his memory may be made to Make A Wish Foundation, Five Valley Square, 512 Township Line Road, Suite 103, Blue Bell, PA 19422.

GOLDSTEINS' ROSENBERG'S
RAPHAEL SACKS
Published in the Philadelphia Inquirer & Philadelphia Daily News on 8/9/2005.

I miss Lou and Bob. I never had a chance to thank them, but I'll never forget the way they helped a scared kid settle into a new city, one honey turkey hogie at a time.

Labels: food, Philadelphia

posted by Aron @ 6:51 PM 3 comments