Snare a parking spot in the back, circle around to the front counter, and place your sandwich order. (Prosciutto and provolone on a semolina loaf? Chicken, Jarlsberg Swiss and aioli?) Then jog back to the deli case for a couple of pounds of imported cheese. (Fontina Val d'Aosta? Caciocavallo from Sicily?) Add some meat to your basket. (Thick-cut pork chops? Those spicy fresh sausages? Milanese dry salame?) Tuck a couple of bottles of wine or spirits under your arm. (Barbaresco? Chianti? Grappa?) Luigi, honey, you've got the supper of a lifetime. If there were some kind of greenmarket out front, gourmands from miles around would pitch tents and live here.


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