I once hatched a crude business plan immediately after graduating from UCLA, working in a unique environment for a venture capitalist (long story short), where I had this novel vision to merge wine, food and music. I bolstered my idea with findings from business journals and wine business publications, attending seminars and classes, working on a plan, but it never occurred to me that there was a near perfect version of what I was already after. A Jewish Deli and wine shop joined at the hip, living modestly on the west end of the Sunset strip.

Greenblatt’s Deli and wine shop is historic and honorable like that sepia-toned photo of one’s great uncle who served in World War II. The establishment took root on a now busy city block off Sunset Boulevard almost ninety years ago, nurturing a famous neighbor and even offering its customers delivery. In this unusual relationship between food and wine, neither part suffers; their selection of wine and spirits is smart and current and then there are the signature sandwiches that every deli offers but that few do as well.

I had been many times, even before I had fashioned my business plan, but since reading “Wonderland Avenue”, I was starting to really miss the place and hoped to go back soon. The perfect opportunity arose when my friend’s parents were in town, Michiganders from the land of Zingermans (…another story for another day), looking to get a bite to eat before catching the 10 p.m. show at the Laugh Factory.

I had never been to Greenblatt’s at night but the place felt the same. Wanly lit and most booths occupied but just like the afternoons, there was a slight audible buzz from table to table. The biggest difference I spotted was that there were wine goblets filled on each table. We passed on the wine for the evening. We sat down and ordered rather quickly—deli orders are fairly standard unless you’re at Canters.

Three Kreplach soups hit the table, chased by four sandwiches after a short wait. My pastrami sandwich was a little smaller than I remembered but portions were still fair. Tender, spiced meat folded into a warm caraway rye that wore a soft crust melted away after each bite. A quick snap of the pickle for textural contrast and a nibble at my side provided the right dynamics to propel Greenblatt’s to assume Eatery of the Month. I didn’t hear many complaints from my friend or his parents; they sang its praises. We left comfortably full, ready to queue up for the show.

Greenblatt’s wasn’t exactly my pitch, I had a different idea in mind for food and there was still another aspect missing from the total equation, music, yet I was relieved to see that it was possible to maintain a business that effectively married wine and spirits sales while not letting the food suffer. A consistently delicious sandwich is to be had in Hollywood; with parking in back, I don’t see what’s stopping you from heading there now.