There is a deli next to my house I like going to on days I work from home. They only open for weekday lunch hours, and is a favorite among the office-going lot. It is the same people behind the counter — receiving orders, making food, collecting money — every single day, and perhaps if I were a bit more consistent with the upkeep of my facial hair, they would one day recognize me by sight. There is, however, one little thing odd with this place. You see, they don’t bother, like most conventional eateries, with menus. The whole concept of an inventory of items you are allowed to order and the rather pesky detail of price is too tedious here. Here, your order takes the following form: (chicken | meatball | eggplant)-(bruscetta | arugula | parmegiana | mozarella )-(hero | platter), and the price is seemingly a random number. Certain combinations prompt a question: “do you want peppers and onions with that?”, but that might cost you a few more dollars. Some of my friends think it is so quaint and cute and “so New York.” Me, I am less sure. I could live without lunchtime guesswork.