SOUTHERN COLESLAW FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF A WESTSIDE JEW

I don’t really have anything to say about Southern coleslaw. I just like the title: Southern Coleslaw from the Perspective of a Westside Jew. I’d like to contrast it with Jewish deli coleslaw, but there really is no difference, other than Jewish deli coleslaw is a bit more reliably yummy. However, while eating coleslaw in the South, I often recall my Jewish homeland of West L.A.: pickles in a small barrel on the table at Juniors, an obnoxious woman who is unable to choose her salad dressing, Dr. Brown’s Cream Soda, the man with the hearing aid and the chopped liver sandwich, the other man in the baseball cap coughing, the plastic surgery rendering an old lady into a very strange Narnia-looking creature, that universe of neurotic blabbing and delicious halvah that seems so distant from my Southern coleslaw.