Half an hour earlier, I'd discovered that my intended dinner destination was closed for the day, and by the time this bright orange come-on caught my eye, I was more than ready to eat. But first came the matter of choosing a roll; Beata is one of those delis where you retrieve your own, with tongs, from a bin on the customer side of the counter. Next was the kielbasa slicing, and the grilling; no nukes were involved in the heating of this sausage. Then came the picture taking; I don't ask my patient dining buddies to do anything I wouldn't do myself.
The sandwich eating was conducted comparatively quickly, and, given my appetite, even decorously, if you don't count the part where I nearly dropped pickle.
984 Manhattan Ave. (Huron-India Sts.), Greenpoint, Brooklyn