I had the privilege of being asked to lunch in Independence last week and of course I suggested Slyman’s Tavern, off Rockside and west of Brecksville Road.
At first I thought the “lite” size would be too small (“about the size of a baseball” the waitress said) but after it arrived, I was confident that the original (“about the size of a softball”) would have been too much.
She might have meant that each half was the size of a baseball—it was pretty big.
Slow-cooked brisket between two slices of rye (and a slice of swiss) is just fantastic.
The horseradish on the side was a perfect compliment and I look forward to going back from time to time.
With a tagline of “Corned Beef Since 1964”, who can argue?
A friend and I happened to be in Copley for the morning and decided to satisfy our appetites at the Brighten Brewery nearby. With tomorrow being St. Patrick’s Day, of course they had a specially modified Reuben and I ordered that along with a pint of something wet.
In my experience, Brighten is known for their beer and soft pretzels. A colleague of mine particularly likes their beer cheese, while I prefer their mustard.
I’ve never had a bad Stout at Brighten and their Hazy IPA selection is usually pretty robust.
The Reuben was fantastic and I would certainly go back for a second meal should the chance ever present itself. The Corned Beef was sliced thinly, and jumbled just enough that it didn’t feel too compressed.
The Rye bread was just the right compliment to the beef and the extra sauce was a nice addition.
While more known for their beers than their food, I’ve always eaten well at Hop Tree Brewing in Hudson.
Tucked away in a light-industrial cul-de-sac, Hop Tree can be counted on for great IPAs, great waitstaff and good food. (Try their corned beef popcorn!)
This was more of a Reuben than Corned Beef, but it didn’t disappoint. Toasted to perfection, the right amount of cheese and perfect bread, I thoroughly enjoyed this sampling of Corned Beef.
She’d heard about this brewery in Medina that had opened during the first weeks of the pandemic and she thought we ought to patronize them.
So, off we went and forty-five minutes later we were seated and looking at menus.
Of course I had to try the classic Reuben with my IPA, and it did not disappoint. The Rye was perfect, the cheese and sauce were, too. And the Corned Beef was good—I’d go back for another round someday.
An unexpectedly long server and storage migration left me looking for lunch for my team on Saturday.
Google Maps said there was a Subway nearby and in the course of looking for it, we providentially found the Huron Square Deli at 1150 Huron Road in downtown Cleveland instead.
Providentially, because I didn’t want a Subway, because the Huron Square Deli has of of those ubiquitous ‘”Hot” Corned Beef’ signs in their window and because I’d added it to our Where we’re going list a while back.
We gave them our “ham-and-cheese-without-the-cheese” order first, then got to bantering about their Corned Beef: Do they think they have the best? What kind do they serve, lean and crumbly or fat and juicy? Did we want provolone or american cheese?(!!) Did we want fries with that?
Turns out they do believe they have Cleveland’s best Corned Beef. They claim to serve lean and juicy. And yes, we wanted fries with that.
And we gave them a really tough time about the “provolone or american cheese” question. I suppose one has to cater to client tastes, but the mere mention made me question their Corned Beef credentials.
Well, back at the break room, we opened our parcels and dug in. Very good. Just look at those fries!!
Somewhere in there is buried a deli pickle spear, quite perfect in every way. But look at those fries!
The Corned Beef was quite lean, not crumbly, but just the right amount of juicy. The bread was grilled to perfection and didn’t leave your fingers too greasy. The cheese was an excellent choice, but might have been just as good if it had been swiss. I encountered one large portion of chewy gristle/fat but it didn’t really spoil the sandwich. (Look at those fries!)
It’s perhaps a bit telling that the fries overwhelmed the sandwich. In addition to being plentiful, they were also perfect. Perhaps it was because we caught them at 10-minutes-to-closing and they needed to offload so many fries. Or perhaps they always serve them so deliciously and plentifully.
OK. Enough said. They were good.
And the Corned Beef? Overall, it was very good. A good, every-day sort of Corned Beef sandwich. A daily staple sort of Corned Beef sandwich. Not a Best Corned Beef but a Very Good Corned Beef.
For as long as I can remember, I have had a love affair with corned beef.
I didn’t spend my childhood in Cleveland, though I was born here. We did come back a few times a year, and as a young Jewish kid who lived in Southern Texas—a place devoid of corned beef—one of the joys of coming back was the regular visits to Corky & Lenny’s. And I’m talking dingy, wood-paneled Corky & Lenny’s at Cedar Center.
Another oft-visited deli was Jack’s Deli and Restaurant at the corner of Green and Cedar in University Heights. As I moved back to Cleveland, and as Corky’s made its move to Chagrin Blvd., Jack’s quickly became my favorite deli haunt. To me, the corned beef is always juicier at Jack’s. The soup is more comforting. The service is—well, it doesn’t take much to top Corky’s in that department, but Jack’s has always been more welcoming.
So when the fine gentleman here at Best Corned Beef in Cleveland asked if I’d like to do a guest review for Jack’s, I couldn’t pass up on an excuse to feed my corned beef craving.
After starving myself all day in preparation, my dining companion—the wonderful young lady responsible for the blog Hip & Healthy—and I headed to Jack’s.
After a long day of work, the best way to unwind and prepare for corned-beefy goodness is a good brew—a He’Brew.
As my companion put it, “It’s the best Jewish beer I’ve ever had.” Think Great Lakes Brewing Company’s Lake Erie Monster. A perfect companion for what’s to come.
I cannot come to Jack’s without getting the meal-in-a-bowl known as: The Whole Magilla. It’s an extra-large bowl of chicken soup with a matzoh ball, rice, noodles, and a kreplach (a meat filled dumpling).
Next up: the pièce de résistance. The corned beef. I ordered the regular-sized corned beef on rye. I usually keep my sandwich totally plain. If I’m feeling a little saucy, I will throw on coleslaw and thousand island dressing. The corned beef at Jack’s just tastes fresh. It’s juicy, and it melts in your mouth.
My companion ordered the not-so-hungry-sized lean corned beef on rye. She put some spicy-brown mustard on it, and she was soon wearing a satisfied grin.
A side of fries and complimentary pickles round out this perfect gastronomic adventure.
One other item of note is the corned beef and potato pancakes. It isn’t on the menu, but you can usually order it if you act like you know what you’re asking for. It’s a sandwich-sized helping of corned beef betwixt two—wait for it—potato pancakes.
The prices are on par with Corky’s for most menu items. The beers were shockingly-priced, but that’s our fault for not even asking. We tend to order off the cuff and worry about silly little things like price later.
Our corned beef cravings quenched, we ventured out into another soggy spring night.
Jack’s Deli and Restaurant is located at 14490 Cedar Rd. in University Heights, 44121. They are on the web at: www.jacksdeliandrestaurant.com.
There’s no doubt that Slyman’s Restaurant holds the region’s imagination for Corned Beef. From being “the place the president visited” (President Bush dropped by in 2007) to serving the “biggest” Corned Beef, nothing about Slyman’s is disappointing.
My colleague and I chose a Friday during Lent to avoid the massive crowds that on a normal day threaten to swamp this little “hole in the wall” (video). The takeout line (call, don’t email) was long but running quickly and yet there were a few tables to spare at 12:30 when we arrived.
If you’re here for the Corned Beef (and who isn’t!), a quick glance at the menu should be all that’s needed. My friend chose his traditional Reuben (hold the Sauerkraut) and I got the Corned Beef.
The first thing we do is pull out our phones to take pictures (his and mine). I didn’t have a ruler or measuring tape, but it was high, probably the tallest I’ve had yet.
We guessed about the weight, figuring about eight or nine ounces. Our waitress (she was friendly, attentive and yes, very busy) shattered our estimate by telling us that each one is eleven-point-five ounces.
Eleven-point-five ounces
No matter how you slice it, stack it or compress it, that’s an awful lot of sandwich.
I’m not going to get into “size matters” arguments mostly because no matter how big you make your sandwich, someone else can always add another ounce. You may be trying to lift a slice of rye bread the size of a hubcap, but the place down the road will trot out one the size of a spare tire.
On a personal note, a Corned Beef sandwich needs to have at least a 2:1 Corned Beef-to-bread ratio in order to be truly enjoyable. Less than that and you’d be better off eating tuna fish. On the upper side, there’s something about 16 ounces—an entire pound—that sounds like a good place to stop. As it is, one calorie calculator I visited put that 11.5 oz sandwich at 980 calories (sans pickle)!
Get on with it!
How was it? It was truly great. A real Cleveland classic. Without a doubt, a great Corned Beef sandwich. My friend would argue that it is Cleveland’s Best Corned Beef. As for me, I’m a bit more empirical: ask me when I’ve tried them all.
Until then, when I’m tired of sampling sub-Best fare, I’ll come back to Slyman’s to reset my expectations.
