It’s the most famous table in New York. You know the one. It sits right in the middle of a cavernous, fluorescent-lit deli on the corner of Ludlow and Houston Streets. Above it, a sign dangles from the ceiling with an arrow pointing down, warning you that "Where Harry met Sally... hope you have what she had!"
Katz’s Delicatessen isn't just a movie set. Honestly, it’s a miracle it still exists. In a city where historic storefronts are swallowed by luxury condos every single week, the When Harry Met Sally restaurant remains a stubborn, grease-slicked monument to old-school Lower East Side grit. People come for the movie. They stay because the pastrami is actually that good.
Most "famous" movie locations are tourist traps. They offer mediocre food at inflated prices because they know you’ll pay for the photo op. Katz’s is different. It’s loud. It’s chaotic. If you lose your ticket, the staff might actually yell at you. It is the antithesis of a curated, Instagram-friendly experience, yet it’s one of the most photographed spots on earth.
The Reality of the "I'll Have What She's Having" Scene
When Rob Reiner was scouting locations for the 1989 rom-com, he wasn't looking for glamour. He wanted authenticity. He needed a place where two New Yorkers would naturally go to argue about whether a man and a woman can ever truly be just friends.
The scene itself—the one where Meg Ryan’s Sally Albright stages a very public, very loud fake climax to prove a point to Billy Crystal’s Harry Burns—took hours to film. Legend has it Meg Ryan had to repeat the performance about thirty times. While she was doing that, the extras in the background were actually eating. They were locals. They weren't actors paid to look busy; they were people who had been coming to Katz’s for decades.
That lady who delivers the iconic "I'll have what she's having" line? That was Estelle Reiner, the director’s mother. It wasn't a scripted professional actor. It was just a New York mom watching a spectacle over a sandwich.
Why Katz’s Delicatessen survived the Hollywood curse
Most businesses that get "famous" from a movie burn out. They get a rush of tourists, the locals flee, and then the fad dies. Katz’s survived because it was already an institution for 100 years before Nora Ephron ever wrote the screenplay.
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Founded in 1888, it started as a small deli called Iceland Brothers. It became Katz’s in 1910. By the time the When Harry Met Sally restaurant scene was filmed, it had already survived the Great Depression, two World Wars, and the near-collapse of the Lower East Side in the 70s. It has a foundation of beef and brine that Hollywood couldn't shake.
Navigating the Chaos of the Real-Life Location
If you walk in expecting a quiet sit-down meal, you’re in for a shock. It’s a sensory assault. You walk through the door and a security guard hands you a small, rectangular paper ticket.
Do. Not. Lose. The. Ticket.
Seriously. Even if you buy nothing, you need that ticket to leave. If you lose it, there’s a legendary $50 fine (sometimes more, depending on the mood of the staff). It’s part of the lore. It’s a relic of a pre-digital era that Katz’s refuses to abandon.
Once you’re inside, you’ll see the counters. There are lines, but they aren't "lines" in the way you see at a bank. They are more like organized scrums. You find a cutter, you wait your turn, and you watch the theater of meat. These guys are surgeons with long knives. They’ll usually flick a small slice of warm pastrami onto a piece of wax paper for you to taste while they work.
That’s the secret.
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The pastrami is cured for up to 30 days. No shortcuts. Most modern delis use "water-added" meat or fast-cure processes that take 36 hours. At Katz’s, the process is basically the same as it was in the 19th century. When you bite into it, you realize why Sally chose this place for her performance. The food is the main character.
What to actually order (Beyond the hype)
Everyone wants "what she’s having." In the movie, Sally is actually eating a turkey sandwich. Don't do that.
If you go to the When Harry Met Sally restaurant and order turkey, you’ve missed the point. You order the pastrami on rye. Or the corned beef. Maybe a side of matzo ball soup if it’s cold outside. The pastrami is hand-carved, which means it’s thick and irregular, unlike the paper-thin, machine-sliced meat you get at a supermarket. It’s juicy. It’s peppery. It’s expensive—closing in on $30 for a sandwich—but it’s enough meat to feed a small family.
- The Pastrami: Hand-carved, fatty (ask for it "juicy"), and piled high.
- The Pickles: They give you a plate of full-sours and half-sours. The half-sours are bright green and crunchy; the full-sours are fermented salty goodness.
- Dr. Brown’s Soda: Specifically the Cream Soda or Cel-Ray. If you don't get the Cel-Ray, are you even in a New York deli?
The Cultural Impact of a Single Table
The table where Harry and Sally sat is located right in the middle of the floor. It’s not tucked away in a romantic corner. It’s exposed. People are constantly hovering around it, waiting for the current occupants to finish so they can take a selfie.
But look around. The walls are covered in thousands of headshots. Every president, every actor, every local legend has a photo there. It’s a living museum of New York history. During World War II, the deli became famous for the slogan "Send a Salami to Your Boy in the Army." They still do it. You can literally go to the back of the room and ship a giant log of meat to someone across the country.
There is something deeply comforting about the fact that this place hasn't changed. The lighting is still harsh. The floors are still a bit sticky. The service is still "New York brusque." In a world that is becoming increasingly polished and artificial, the When Harry Met Sally restaurant is a reminder of what things used to be like.
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Addressing the tourist trap myth
Is it a tourist trap?
Kinda. But it’s a "justified" one. A tourist trap implies something that lacks substance. Katz’s has more substance in one vat of mustard than most restaurants have in their entire menu. The crowds are real, and the wait can be an hour on a Saturday afternoon. But the locals still go there. You’ll see old men who have lived in the neighborhood for eighty years sitting right next to a college student from Japan who just wants to see where Billy Crystal sat.
That’s the magic of it. It’s a cross-section of humanity united by a love for cured brisket.
How to Visit Like a Pro
If you want the experience without the mental breakdown, go on a Tuesday at 3:00 PM. Avoid the weekends at all costs unless you enjoy standing in a line that stretches down Houston Street.
When you get to the counter, have your order ready. Don't be the person who gets to the front and says, "Hmm, what’s good here?" The cutter will look at you with a soul-crushing weariness. Just say "Pastrami on rye, mustard" and wait for the magic to happen.
Tip your cutter. Throw a dollar or two into the plastic cup on the counter. It’s a small gesture, but it’s the local way. They’ll often reward you with a slightly better cut or an extra slice of that melt-in-your-mouth fat.
The When Harry Met Sally restaurant isn't just a film location. It’s a survivor. It outlasted the original cast’s careers, it outlasted the film’s director, and it will probably outlast the next ten food trends that sweep through Manhattan. It proves that if you do one thing—like making the world's best pastrami—and you do it with zero compromise for over a century, the world will eventually beat a path to your door.
Practical Steps for Your Visit
- Check the Hours: They stay open late, especially on weekends. Sometimes it's better to go for a 11:00 PM pastrami run than a 1:00 PM lunch.
- Bring Cash (Mostly): They take cards now at the main registers, but having cash for tips and small items makes life easier in the chaos.
- The Ticket Rule: I’m repeating this because it’s vital. If you are in a group, everyone gets their own ticket. Do not put them all in one pocket. If someone loses one, you’re paying the lost ticket fee. No exceptions.
- Seating: It’s mostly self-service. Grab your food and scout the room like a hawk. If you see someone putting on their coat, start moving toward their table.
- Shipping: If you can’t make it to NYC, they ship nationwide. It’s not quite the same as sitting under the "Harry and Sally" sign, but the meat is the real deal.
Katz’s is a loud, messy, expensive, and beautiful piece of New York history. It’s one of the few places where the reality actually lives up to the cinematic legend. Go for the movie history, but stay for the sandwich. You’ll realize pretty quickly why everyone wants what she’s having.