Monthly Archives: June 2012

Chipotle Chicken — The Village Bakery & Cafe, Los Feliz Blvd, Los Angeles, CA

Posted on by

As our esteemed founder discovered, the Village Bakery & Cafe is definitely an establishment that knows what it is doing. (Unlike some other establishments we could name.)

The Chipotle Chicken was a very satisfying sandwich that was well worth my time. The sauce was flavorful and not overpowering and the delicious bun both enhanced the experience and masterfully curtailed any danger of filling creep. The true triumph of this sandwich, however, was the simple fact that the chicken was cut into slices. Not deli-thin slices that would more properly called cold cuts, but perhaps twice-filleted and grilled hunks that fitted together to make for a pleasing experience, both in terms of flavor and of texture.

Far too many establishments provide one massive chicken breast flopped from the grill onto a bun and call it a day. Not here. The chicken is purposefully carved and assembled to make for a more pleasing experience. Mission accomplished. It is a simple step and creates a world of difference from the standard chicken breast sandwich. Preferable every time.

The Drippin’s – Poor House Bistro, S Autumn St, San Jose, CA

Posted on by

I talked about the Poor House Bistro some time ago, and what I said then still stands. It’s a fine outpost, a respectable po’ boy in an area where such a thing isn’t in abundance. The reason I bring it up again is to draw a contrast to the Braised Onion French Dip featured on Monday. Both are very good sandwiches, both centered around a big pile of meat, but the things that accompany the Drippin’s are doing something very different than the French Dip from Oaks. Oaks had each ingredient trying to make its own mark: truffled watercress, sherry au jus and braised onions are all an ingredient plus an additional bit of spin. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that, but it makes a sandwich significantly harder to balance; featuring six things is always going to be harder than featuring one thing.

Poor House Bistro takes a more simple approach, in which the support is the support. In addition to the roast pork the sandwich features tomatoes, pickles, shredded cabbage and mustard. That’s not the default “everything,” most sandwiches at Poor House Bistro include mayo by default, but they leave if off the Drippin’s, much to the sandwich’s benefit. Leaving the mayo off gives the cabbage a crisp freshness that pairs quite well with the richness of the pork. This isn’t a question of laziness, it’s just a matter of understanding the sandwich. You’re there for juicy, tender, savory, and just peppery enough pork, and that’s exactly what you get.

I have also tried the BBQ Shrimp Po’ Boy at Poor House Bistro, and it struck me as one of those sandwiches where if it’s your thing, you’ll love it, but if not there isn’t much appealing about it. It’s incredibly heavy on the pepper, and while I do enjoy spicy foods I felt like this was a bit much, one strong note without much support at all. If pepper is your thing, by all means. If you lack that enthusiasm, though, the Drippin’s or one of the fried numbers is likely to set you right.

BLT & Turkey BLT — Made At Home

Posted on by

Unlike our esteemed founder, I have no such qualms about the presence of bacon. Although I wholeheartedly agree that the fixation on bacon is hackneyed, unnecessary, and already hopelessly cliche, I do enjoy a bit of smoky, salty substance added to sandwiches every now and then. And of course, within a BLT, its presence is mandatory; otherwise you would just be silly. I attempted to create a pair of sandwiches at home using some roasted garlic bread obtained by my closest associate. The first attempt, the simple BLT with tomato, arugula, and mustard, was underwhelming. This was solely my own fault, as I accidentally used far too liberal an application of mustard and overwhelmed the whole of the sandwich as a result. My second attempt was miles better.

For this second sandwich I went lighter on the mustard, used just one strip of bacon and added peppered sliced turkey breast. The result was a flavorful and refreshing sandwich. The peppered turkey really sang and was pleasantly augmented by a minimum amount of bacon and mustard. The bread — with cloves of garlic baked in — matched up immensely better with the turkey than without.

When discussing sandwich meats, let us not overlook our dear friend the turkey, which — much like vodka in mixed drinks — can often become anything a sandwich requires. It is the most malleable of sandwich meats, which is a feature to be admired, rather than derided.

Pulled Braised Short Rib French Onion Dip – The Oaks Gourmet Market, N Bronson Ave, Los Angeles, CA

Posted on by

Returning to Oaks Gourmet, let us once again consider a basic sandwich, upscaled. Aside from a heaping pile of pulled short rib, the Braised French Onion Short Rib French Dip from Oaks Gourmet contains braised onions, horseradish cream and truffled watercress on a toasted baguette, with the sherry au jus served on the side. That’s quite a sandwich, although not one that is entirely comprehensible. The question of how one truffles watercress is raised, for example. I suspect they mean that they’re using truffle oil, but the fact that they don’t just say that is rather suspicious. But aside from any nefarious truffling, this was was a really good sandwich. It wasn’t quite everything it’s supposed to be, I suspect, as it was not particularly earth shattering and wasn’t really a subtle, layered sandwich. But it was everything one wants a french dip to be, which is to say, a big pile of really rich meat. There wasn’t enough horseradish on it for my taste, but this wasn’t the first time that’s happened and it certainly won’t be the last.

Judging by this and the short rib sandwich from Little Chef Counter, I’m inclined to say that short ribs are a severely underutilized sandwich ingredient. It’s incredibly rich, savory, and it can be an incredible background for other flavors. Serving this sandwich with about half the meat present would have set up that background and left some room for the watercress and its truffling to play through, but as it stands it was all short rib. There are far worse things for a sandwich to be, though, so consider me satisfied.

Chicken Bacon Avocado — Vons, Figueroa Blvd., Los Angeles

Posted on by

The made-to-order supermarket deli sandwich is, of course, something we have examined many times before at On Sandwiches. Today we explore another and question two things: storage and application of avocado, and abundance of the “large” sandwich.

Many sandwich shops and supermarkets, of course, offer avocado on sandwiches, either as a staple or as an addition at a customer’s whim. In most sit-down restaurants, the avocado will be freshly sliced and place on the sandwich. In many sandwich storefronts, however, the avocados will be pre-mashed for the sake of ease of storage and application. These are not so much “avocados” as “guacamole with one ingredient.” This is what was provided for my Chicken Bacon Avocado sandwich at Vons. It is understandable, although discouraging to the sandwich purist. Time is money, after all, and if it is simpler and more expedient to simply produce a #2 scoop of mashed avocado and spread it around the bread, why wouldn’t a manager or CEO (or whomever) make that call? While the sliced avocado is preferred, this is still something to take note of, and to think about when obtaining a sandwich with avocado. (Please note that although it has been a while since I have partaken of Subway, when last I was there, the avocado was still sliced to order; a somewhat surprising fact given the photographs of their menu items and the overall reality of the franchise.)

The second point I want to address here is at what point offering a “large” sandwich becomes unnecessary. What you see above is a perfectly acceptable sandwich. Unfortunately, I ordered a “large” version of this sandwich, which — due to the nature of the focaccia bread on which it is served — resulted in the counter employee simply making two of the above sandwich and wrapping them separately. I would argue that this is not a large sandwich. This is, in fact, two of the same sandwich. Again, perhaps I am a stickler of semantics here, but these are not the same thing.

The sandwich(es) was (were) actually quite good. Nothing revolutionary, of course, but all the flavors married well and added up to a satisfying experience. And then, of course, I had to eat another sandwich.

Ultimate B.L.T – The Oaks Gourmet Market, N Bronson Ave, Los Angeles, CA

Posted on by

The BLT at Oaks Gourmet came highly recommended by a trusted associate, and I’m always very tempted by a sandwich that comes with a boast. Obviously with so many establishments making claims on the ultimate this or the best that in America they can’t all be correct, but it signals a certain amount of effort that has to be appreciated. Sometimes the claim is completely unwarranted, and other times you find something really special. Oaks Gourmet Market makes a strong bid, filling their offering with ingredients they want you to know are special. Black Forest Bacon, heirloom tomatoes, butterleaf hearts, Camembert cheese, avocado and roasted shallot ailoli all come together on toasted sourdough. And for all of that, you get…you get a BLT. It’s possible that this isn’t a tremendously popular opinion, but there isn’t really a tremendously high ceiling on the BLT. It’s good; crisp, moist lettuce, salty, smoky bacon, and a flavorful tomato all work well together. It’s just that the combination isn’t spectacular. Good, sure, but it’s more a well whistled tune than an impressive symphony.

There’s an implicit concession to my position in this sandwich. The addition of fine ingredients wasn’t enough to make the Ultimate BLT, that required both avocado and cheese. But that’s the thing: it’s hardly a BLT at that point, no? On the menu this evening is a Catch-22, a sandwich that can’t excel within its own category without stepping outside. It’s tragic, really.

But forget disparaging remarks about the BLT, set aside the boast being made, all of that. The question, as always, was whether or not this was a good sandwich. I know it’s well regarded, but I didn’t care for it. I think the Camembert does a disservice to the sandwich. It’s not a subtle flavor, the more reticent notes of the tomato are hard to come by and the roasted shallot aioli is completely lost. But I think this might be one of those not-for-me things. Maybe you’re wild about Camembert, who knows. It’s clear that Oaks Gourmet was aiming pretty high with this sandwich, and even when that falls short I’m likely to give a bit of polite applause.

Slow Roasted Pork — Four Cafe, Colorado Blvd., Los Angeles

Posted on by

In sandwiches, as concerns most others things in life, it is not often necessary to try to gimmick up a sure-fire winner. If you must have your dalliances and whimsy, either work out your quirks in the comfort of your own home, or make your entire enterprise reflect that you are not to be taken seriously with regard to the art of the sandwich.

Four Cafe is a fine establishment, serving fresh fare with plenty of vegan and vegetarian options and with an eye toward healthful menu items. They have a seasonal menu and some of their winter offerings were quite spectacular indeed. Unfortunately, it is now spring, and they are featuring a pulled pork sandwich that does grave disservice to the genre.

Pulled pork, of course, is often married with citrus (specifically orange juice), utilized in a wide range of marinades and mojo sauces, etc. What Four Cafe has done here is to take pulled pork that has reportedly been through a whole grain mustard marinade, and create a sandwich consisting of red onions, gruyere, arugula, garlic aioli — and orange slices. The result, of course, is a nightmare on rye bread. To begin with, pulled pork should not be associated with any sort of cheese — that is strike one. The gruyere, as to be expected, was completely lost in the needlessly crowded (yet still startlingly slender) sandwich. Secondly, the pulled pork was layered so thin that there was nearly a 1:1 ratio of pork to oranges. The flavors of the sandwich (such as they were) were completely overwhelmed by entire orange slices (and if we are being honest, these were almost certainly sections of clementine, but I defer to the menu’s boast of oranges). Even if the pork were not completely overshadowed by the citrus (and I do not mean that as a compliment to the citrus), Four Cafe appears to be blissfully unaware that sections of orange (or whatever) are not what you would call “conducive” to inclusion in a sandwich. In fact, the rubbery, tough, and fibrous texture of the orange is at best an antithesis to the yielding nature of pulled pork. What you are left with is a sandwich that is difficult to eat, an insult to pulled pork, and really devoid of any distinguishable flavor or trait other than “oranges.”

You called it a “Slow Roasted Pork” sandwich, Four Cafe. Don’t hand me nothing but citrus and call it a day.

Roast Chicken And Pepperoni – Ace of Sandwiches, El Camino Real, Palo Alto, CA

Posted on by

There’s something unsettling about a place that boasts gourmet sandwiches and serves mostly cold cuts. I have mixed feelings about cold cuts, as I have discussed before, but surely even their boosters would admit they hardly jump to mind when one thinks “gourmet.” With some 50 or 60 sandwiches on the menu, most based around cold cuts and spreads, Ace of Sandwiches really comes off as an excellent deli more than anything else. There’s no shame in being a deli, of course, unless you’re running around claiming to be something else. I don’t know how I’m supposed to have faith in your enterprise if you don’t.

The sandwich above was listed as the special of the day and came recommended by the staff. It’s sliced roast chicken, pepperoni, mozzarella, red sauce, and red onions on a wheat roll. That’s a tasty if not particularly daring lineup, but I can appreciate a simple classic. Or I could, anyway, had the quality been a bit higher. I found the chicken to be dry, and the red sauce insufficient to cover that up. That makes two strikes against the gourmet idea, and I’m disinclined to wait around for the third to show up. There are too many sandwiches in the world to be tried, too many other eateries to explore, to sit down more than once with any joker insisting it’s an ace.

Crab Cake Sandwich – Alcove, Hillhurst Ave, Los Angeles, CA

Posted on by

The last time I had a crab cake sandwich, I found it a bit plain. A lightly dressed slaw was one of the things I suggested might improve things, so I was happy to see the crab cake sandwich at Alcove came with just that. Beyond the slaw, though, there wasn’t a whole lot to get excited about. It wasn’t a bad sandwich. There was plenty of fresh crab in a well fried (perhaps overdone) patty. The roll was fresh. I would have preferred a traditional tarter to the chipotle aioli, but the aioli wasn’t bad. Essentially the whole thing just ranked squarely at “capably executed,” and it’s difficult to get excited about capable execution. It’s all well and good for a quick sandwich at a lunch counter, or a $6 number wrapped in butcher paper and only destined to hit the spot, but a $15 sandwich at a fine sit-down establishment really ought to aim for a higher standard, don’t you think? The very fact that you’re putting together a crab cake sandwich really implies more advanced obligations. I’ll have to try another sandwich at Alcove, some chicken number, to see if their other offerings end up so middling. Given the crab cake sandwich, I won’t be holding my breath.

Thanksgiving on a Bun – The Village Bakery, Los Feliz Blvd, Los Angeles, CA

Posted on by

There are countless sandwich archetypes. The ham & cheese, the turkey pesto, the Italian, the French Dip, the Reuben, the Club Sandwich, the BLT. One of the things I enjoy about sandwiches is how many different types there are, and the variety that people find within the limits each form presents. But I also enjoy those limits for their own sake; I am something of a traditionalist and I prefer when someone makes a sandwich that exists comfortably within the form of what I understand a particular sandwich to be. What I enjoy about this is that everyone who’s making that sandwich is essentially attempting the same task. They might go about it in different ways or with different tools, but everyone’s aiming for the same mark. It allows for a kind of 1-to-1 comparison that isn’t possible in a lot of criticism.

In this case, we have the classic thanksgiving sandwich, previously seen here. The root of the form, of course, is thanksgiving leftovers. Roast turkey, stuffing, gravy, and cranberry sauce seem to be the standard requirements, and that seems to be a fine base, as I don’t know if I’ve ever consumed a thanksgiving sandwich that didn’t leave me satisfied. It is the rare sort of sandwich that has both a very high ceiling and a fairly high floor; it can certainly excel but the average example isn’t so bad.

The example at Village Bakery, thankfully, tended more towards the excellent half of that scale. The cranberry sauce was particularly choice, well spiced and full of cranberries, served on the side so you could pile on as much or as little as you wanted. The stuffing had been crisped up in a skillet or on a griddle, something that doesn’t make a huge difference but is certainly a welcome touch. The roast turkey was juicy, and the gravy was tasty and not excessive. The only complaint I have concerns the roll, which associates tell me can vary quite a bit depending on what’s being baked or who’s doing the baking. The taste was fine, but the exterior was just too tough. Toasting it might have crisped things up, but as it stood it took some effort to tear off a bite. That didn’t cause a catastrophic level of filling creep, but there was plenty of sliding going on. Thankfully, though, the sandwich was delicious and well worth the effort to corral things.