Pastrami-Style Salmon

He was in the oxygen tent when I walked in.

“Did you bring them, dollek?”

“Yes, Gramp.” The sick-sweet hospital smell receded before the warm, heady scents of garlic and pepper mixed with rich tobacco as I unwrapped the hot pastrami sandwich, sour pickle, and expensive cigar.

We both knew it was going to be his last meal. He was now ninety-four, and cancer of the lymphatic system coursed rapidly through his body.

Though well-lubricated with fat (why bo