So they might not serve it all the time, but they ought to start, because the corned beef tongue po’ boy at Glass Onion will make a girlfriend cry. First of all, it’s big. I mean stuff it in your mouth and can’t chew style. Large, like an opera singer. And if you get past the size thing, then you will have to contend with the richness of the tongue-twisting depth of flavor (no pun intended) that only a homespun rendition of a new classic could possibly aspire to. This thing, with its thick stack of cold cut gelatinous slices, meaty punch, and signature zing of sharp vinegary edge goes beyond merely being distinctive, it’s a class unto itself.