I've always thought it was a tragedy that East Coast deli culture never extended past the Appalachians.

Certainly with the Jewish migration west and the development of the entertainment industry, one would think the West Coast would have caught on to the time-honored tradition of brisket-based comfort food.

Not so, apparently.

But on a threateningly snowy night in Fremont, I was determined to find out otherwise.

Lured by the purportedly rich history of Roxy's Diner — previously a long-time downtown institution with the slogan "Real East Coast on the West Coast"—I stepped inside the neighborhood eatery and found it covered by bright, beatnik and decidedly Fremont murals.

Now I'm no purist, but my dream of an authentic New York deli was already a little dented. Where were the sepia-toned pictures of portly men with white hats and gigantic rump roasts? Where were the old women with bags full of challah?

Perhaps the snow had scared them away. Or perhaps this wasn't exactly Katz's Deli.

I attempted to suspend my judgment.

Despite its flagrant West Coast leanings, Roxy's menu was decidedly authentic. Visions of smoking Reubens, corned beef sandwiches and pastrami-on-rye danced off the page and into my imagination. And somewhere, I could almost smell a hint of smoked lox.

Wait, was that Hava Nagila playing on the stereo?

Before I could ask, Roxy's Pastrami and Corned Beef Combo ($8.25) arrived, piled high with layers upon layers of cured meat and sauerkraut. Without the aid of toothpicks (but with the prerequisite kosher pickle), the sandwich towered above a heaping bed of fries, held together by the virtuosity of its own monstrosity.

The Roast Beef French Dip sandwich ($8.25) was similarly compiled — albeit with regrettably less meat — and accompanied by a large pot of au jus.

While both sandwiches were tasty and filling, they lacked the characteristic punch of East Coast deli food. The nostril-clearing zing of horseradish was absent from the Pastrami and the Roast Beef wanted for spice to compete with the salty au jus.

And though the fries offered a crispy, well-seasoned addition to the sandwiches, they were simply not enough to transport me back to the Lower East Side.

Perhaps to Golden, Colo., but no further.

Another strike against Roxy's is its hours, which fluctuate and make getting to the diner (which also serves beer and wine) in time for dinner and drink more difficult than parting the Red Sea. Roxy's is also more geared toward the local lunch and brunch crowd, despite its large portions.

Perhaps this West-Coaster with a jones for the perfect beef brisket sandwich will have to search further to find her cured-meat and pillowy-bread fix.

Until then, I'm still waiting for my deli messiah.

— Maureen Trantham

maureentrantham@thedaily.washington.edu.