Category Archives: General Sandwich Discussion

Pressed Cubano Sandwich — Public House, AT&T Park, San Francisco

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AT&T Park, located at the corner of 3rd and King, has been the home of the San Francisco Giants since its construction was completed in 2000. Since its gates have opened, it has become the hub of a brand-new downtown. Eateries, bars, clubs, shops, and other tourist- and family-friendly locations have sprung up for blocks in all directions surrounding the ballpark, and even within it. The “front” of AT&T Park proper is Willie Mays Plaza, a wide expanse of brick and palm trees, statuary, plaques, and two restaurants. One of these restaurants is Public House, which contains a bar and its own entrance to the ballpark.

I was pleased to find several sandwich options on the menu, and picked the most intriguing and, I felt, promising option: the Pressed Cubano. The sandwich included both roasted pork and Niman ham, and was augmented by both Provolone and Gruyere. The finishing touch was a few stray pickles, and the complete sandwich was griddle-pressed and served without further augmentation. The end result is a simply fantastic combination of complimentary flavors. The head chef at Public House is a classically-trained chef with a long pedigree, as is often the case with most eateries in San Francisco. I have learned long ago that when you find a legitimate head chef has placed a sandwich on their menu, you will almost certainly not regret ordering one.

The sandwich contents all blended together into a delightful creaminess, masterfully offset by the occasional snap of a fresh mild pickle, whose flavor simply added as a grace note to the palate, rather than an overpowering and unwelcome crescendo. The true star of the show, however, was the bread. It was, in a word, perfect. It is a rare gift to find a bread that truly completes the sandwich while providing the perfect containment for the ingredients and an ideal texture for biting through. I was over the moon at having been able to eat this sandwich before a lovely evening of baseball. I only hope that someday, all of you can experience the same.

Bagel Egg Sandwiches — Made at Home

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One of my greatest simple pleasures in life is making a sandwich on a bagel. It usually doesn’t matter what type of sandwich. I don’t care for cream cheese, so no matter how much I love bagels — and I do love them — my options for consuming bagels usually comes down to “plain bagel,” “toasted bagel,” or “bagel sandwich.” As you can see, one of those options is clearly head and shoulders above the rest.

I found myself with a few bagels over the weekend and no lunch meat. I briefly considered making a grilled cheese or a peanut butter sandwich before remembering that I had eggs, and so I made a monster bagel egg sandwich. I split and toasted an “everything” bagel, to which I added margarine. To this, I added two fried eggs and a slice of muenster cheese. The end result was quite pleasing, particularly with the bits of onion on the bagel adding a welcome, savory saltiness. The margarine was a bit lost, and had I used butter, I feel it would have been lost as well.

The following day, I decided to revisit the experiment with a couple of significant changes.

This time using a sesame seed bagel, I again fried two eggs and added a slice of cheese, but instead of butter or margarine, I went with apricot preserves. Although messy (due to the hole in the bagel), the combination of jam and egg is always welcome, and paired better with the sesame seed bagel than it would have with the “everything” bagel. I feel I made the correct choice with both bagel sandwiches. The only thing I would do differently next time is giving the eggs a liberal dose of pepper. If you find yourself with a bagel, a couple of eggs, and five minutes, you would certainly be doing yourself a favor if you whip up a quick and satisfying sandwich.

Shrimp Po’ Girl — Betty’s Eat Inn, Pacific Ave., Santa Cruz, CA

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There are times when the sandwich you want to make isn’t perfectly conducive to being a sandwich. This was the case with the Shrimp Po’ Girl at Betty’s Eat Inn in Santa Cruz. Betty’s is a kitschy faux-throwback diner done right. They refer to their sauces as “Lubes” which are all made in-house, and offer several interesting-looking sandwiches. I opted for the Po’ Girl, and when it arrived, my first thought was, “That’s a lot of shrimp!” followed closely by my second thought, “How am I supposed to eat this?”

Herein lies the drawback with the solid concept of the sandwich: you have a chipotle sauce, lettuce, tomato, onion, and a very generous quantity of fried shrimp on herb dutch bread. The roll is not sliced all the way through and is served resting on its bread hinge, with its contents facing the sky. The sandwich is also served with a steak knife, ostensibly to cut into two easier-to-handle halves. Unfortunately, a multitude of fried shrimp is not so easily halved as, say, a serving of roast beef. I could tell that if I were to cut this sandwich, the whole thing would go to pieces. I at first approached the problem of picking it up, fearful that Betty’s intended for me to eat the Po’ Girl with the toppings vertical, like a hot dog. If that were the case, this item would be forced to fall under the “Not a Sandwich” tag on this blog. Luckily, one given a firm squeeze or two, the enterprise was truly only able to be eaten horizontally, thus getting Betty out of those murky waters of misclassification.

The sandwich had a very pleasing taste indeed, although the sauce could have used a tiny bit more kick and I could have done with a bit more onion than the few strands that were present on my visit. The sandwich was also served with lemon, so I tried a squeeze on a few bites, but preferred the overall effect sans citrus.

The downfall with this sandwich was the difficulty in eating. shrimp kept toppling out of the bottom, top, and side on nearly every bite due to the tricky logistics of unsecured round ingredients combined with “filling creep”. I understand the need for the bread hinge, as there is no telling where the shrimp would end up on a piece of bread that is open on all sides. I believe it is merely the case of the sandwich being too large; if a shorter roll were used, or perhaps slightly less shrimp (although I would never want to deprive myself of extra shrimp), it would be much more manageable.

A good sandwich that comes with a slightly frustrating sandwich-eating experience is not a wash…far from it. This is a sandwich I would gladly have again, but it is certainly an effort to keep it together. A few minor tweaks and the overall effect could be pleasing all around.

 

Pulled Chicken Sandwich — Made At Home

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I admit that this is something of a cheat…two cheats, actually. The first cheat is that this coda to our Pulled Porkstravaganza is actually the second pulled chicken sandwich to be featured during the celebration. The second cheat is that, although this sandwich was technically made at home, it was assembled from bought parts.

Inspiration struck at Whole Foods, when I noticed that they were not only selling fresh-made barbecue pulled chicken alongside the soups on offer, but they were also peddling pretzel baguettes, in the same vein as the pretzel roll I had enjoyed so long ago. On the spot, I decided to create something of a simple “greatest hits” sandwich.

I sliced the pretzel baguette and heaped on the pulled chicken, then smeared the top half of the bread liberally with the incomparable Philippe’s mustard. The end result was simple, elegant, and as pleasing as I’d hoped. The chicken was fresh and tender, yet firm, which was key, as it complemented the pretzel roll. I fear that, had the pretzel roll been paired with pulled pork, the pork would not have the weight needed to counteract the very unique bread. The sauce on the chicken was just enough, but the mustard really set the whole thing off. The Philippe’s mustard has a well-earned attitude that cut through the sauce nicely and added zing to the enterprise. (By contrast, I tried a tiny version of this sandwich with Beaver brand Sweet Hot mustard, and it didn’t stand up nearly as well. Beaver is a fine mustard, but didn’t cut through the sauce like Philippe’s.)

In essence, this is a fine sandwich that you can build for yourself if you have access to a Whole Foods. I highly recommend it.

 

Pulled Porkstravaganza — The Oinkster, Colorado Blvd., Los Angeles

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We here at On Sandwiches have never made any bones about our deep and abiding love for the pulled pork sandwich. In August, we are showcasing some of our recent pulled pork experiences and seeing how they stack up against one another, and against our idea of what a pulled pork sandwich should be.

Some time ago, our esteemed founder had an unfortunate experience at The Oinkster in Los Angeles. His pulled pork sandwich did not include Carolina BBQ sauce and he was left wanting. This is understandable. If you order one thing expecting another, you will usually be let down. As park of Pulled Porkstravaganza, I am here to offer my own humble take on The Oinkster’s product.

I’m something of a regular to The Oinkster. I have reviewed one of their sandwiches before and I often find myself heading there rather than Dave’s, although the two establishments are in extremely close proximity. What I have gleaned from my many visits to the Oinkster is that they often forget to include containers of Carolina sauce with the pulled pork sandwich, particularly when the order is placed for carryout. On the surface, this seems like a gross oversight. The sauce is for the sandwich. Wouldn’t it stand to reason that this is something that should be tossed in the bag without a second thought?

In truth, I probably ordered and consumed half a dozen of their pulled pork sandwiches before I ever beheld a ramekin of the rumored sauce. It didn’t actually matter to me. I find the sandwich extremely satisfying on its own merits. The pork is savory, juicy, and chock-full of delicious bark. The included onion and cabbage, which seems on the surface nothing more than something to stave off boredom, actually adds immense flavor and makes the sandwich whole. My suspicion is that these two simple ingredients trick the employees of The Oinkster into thinking that the sandwich is complete after being assembled. And you know what? They’re right.

As I said, I had eaten a good many of these sandwiches before the sauce presented itself to me. Up until that point, it was my “go-to” pulled pork sandwich. An extremely filling meal with a very pleasing flavor. I admit to having an affinity for the fries at The Oinkster, but every time I ordered the sandwich, I looked forward to it immensely.

But then…the sauce. The sauce is always served on the side, never on the sandwich, and I imagine there are many customers, like our esteemed founder, who arrive home, find no sauce in the bag, and sullenly chew their drier-than-they-were-expecting sandwich. I can further imagine there are customers who dine in, receive no sauce on the sandwich, are not given sauce on the side, and assume there is no sauce to be had. Some of these people are bound to be let down, or else are unfamiliar with the tropes of the pulled pork sandwich, or assume this is a new “spin” on an old classic.

The sauce is, in a word, perfect. Not too tangy, not too sweet. It was made just for this sandwich, and this sandwich for it. Similar to the sandwiches at Philippe’s, one may, if one wishes, apply sauce to each bite, or take one side of the bread away and pour the sauce on the whole enterprise, or hold your wrapped half of the sandwich upright and allow the sauce to work its way down into the sandwich of its own accord. It’s up to the individual.

I feel this is what truly sets this sandwich apart from most other pulled pork endeavors I have encountered: the sandwich is good with any amount of sauce, or without any at all. Depending on the amount of sauce you apply, you can have a different experience every time. This is fantastic. From the first time I encountered the sauce, this was transformed from my “go-to” to my favorite pulled pork sandwich. Try it both ways. Then try it a few more. You won’t be sorry.

 

Pulled Porkstravaganza — The Duck Deli, Duck, NC

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We here at On Sandwiches have never made any bones about our deep and abiding lovefor the pulled pork sandwich. In August, we are showcasing some of our recent pulled pork experiences and seeing how they stack up against one another, and against our idea of what a pulled pork sandwich should be.

Today’s pulled pork sandwich is a bit of a departure, since it does not feature pork. The Duck Deli, located in the minuscule town of Duck in the Outer Banks of North Carolina, is locally famous for its in-house smoked meats. Said meats can be fashioned into meals or platters for in-house or takeaway dining, or you can simply opt to carry out an entire chicken or side of beef or whatever you desire.

I had gone into the Duck Deli with my eye on the Chopped Texas Beef Brisket Sandwich, but was informed that they were fresh out of brisket. Looking over the remaining sandwich options, I felt compelled to opt for the Pulled Chicken over the pulled pork option. Chicken that comes with a smoke ring is a rare occurrence (or at least, rarer than it ought to be).

The pulled chicken came as most pulled pork sandwiches often do: meat and sauce on a bun. No need for putting on airs. The chicken was indeed quite good and flavorful, and the sauce was just fine. The only real downside was that the bread was a bit too spongy. Good for soaking up sauce and containing a potentially messy sandwich, but bad for chewing and swallowing.

This was a slightly above-average sandwich, but showed the pulled meat genre often stands on its own. You needn’t add bells and whistles to have a satisfying sandwich. If the meat is the star of the sandwich, you oughtn’t drown it in a gimmicky sauce. One needs to have confidence in the ingredients. You’ll find, more often than not, that they will sort out the rest.

 

Pulled Porkstravaganza — Dave’s Chillin’ and Grillin’, Colorado Blvd., Los Angeles, CA

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We here at On Sandwiches have never made any bones about our deep and abiding lovefor the pulled pork sandwich. In August, we are showcasing some of our recent pulled pork experiences and seeing how they stack up against one another, and against our idea of what a pulled pork sandwich should be.

We visited Dave’s Chillin’ and Grillin’ not too long ago and tried one of his unorthodox daily specials. The pulled pork at Dave’s is another daily special, made once per week. Dave slow-cooks the pork in-house for hours before adding to it his homemade bourbon barbecue sauce and spicy slaw. The week I stopped by for a pulled pork sandwich, the bourbon of choice was Wild Turkey.

The sandwich was very tasty, but really wasn’t exemplary of what a pulled pork sandwich can be. I feel that, if you’re going to the trouble to get up well before sunrise and make your pork in-house, you should really let the pork itself be the star of the show. Unlike some eateries, you can have bragging rights. “Hey, you like that pork? I made it with my own two hands.” I have first-hand knowledge that there really is nothing like pulled pork that has been made with care. The spicy slaw and the bourbon sauce were good, and either one on a sandwich would be a lovely grace note. You pair both of these strong flavors with the pulled pork, and the sauces become the star of the show. That’s all well and good, but that isn’t what a pulled pork sandwich should strive to be.

Dave is a fan of his spice, as we found with the Surf and Turf. Sometimes it works in his favor, sometimes it works against the sandwich, and sometimes, like with the pulled pork, you have a perfectly acceptable sandwich that perhaps falls short of its potential.

Pulled Pork Sandwich – Subway

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The pulled pork sandwich from Subway.

Well meaning friends and associates have, in the past, suggested I write about subway. Each time I have declined to do so. The topic is a challenging one for me, a point where my passions intersect with a sincere desire to minimize snobbishness. I fear I cannot address the topic in a rational, restrained manner. But my esteemed colleague is addressing pulled pork sandwiches soon and I have felt a certain dismay over Subway offering one, so the time has come.

Let’s start with the sandwich. I’m a man who thinks that things have rules. They can (and should) be bent or even broken, but always for a good cause. Here’s a rule: pulled pork comes on white bread. Sliced loaf, roll, that part doesn’t matter, it just has to be white. The
point of a pulled pork sandwich is to savor laboriously prepared pork and (ideally) a sauce with a history. The bread should say as little as possible.

Subway doesnt have white bread. They have honey oat, the have 9-grain, they even have a Hearty Italian that might be close, but no straight white. So when the sandwich artist asked me what kind of bread I wanted, the first step in any Subway sandwich, I was at a bit of a loss. Ideally, this wouldn’t even be a choice. I ordered a pulled pork sandwich, white bread should be available and they should know to use it. Thinking that the “hearty” in Italian might be too much, I went with sourdough.

The pork sits in a small tray like any other ingredient. A portion of pork was scooped out and placed on my sourdough, and then I was asked what kind of cheese I wanted. Cheese? What kind of cheese did I want? I was struck. If the bread is a slip-up, cheese is heresy. I try to remain open to all ideas but I cannot accept this. There is no cheese in a pulled pork sandwich, full stop. It doesn’t belong and it’s presence will only hurt the sandwich. I declined cheese, but who knows what everyone else is doing. By now I could have had BREAD and CHEESE, a ghastly pair to bring to a pulled pork sandwich. “So what?” you ask. “Why not try it?” Because it won’t be any good. Because some questions
have been asked and answered. You respect that people have eaten a lot of lousy sandwiches by accepting their conclusions. Pulled pork goes on white bread and it doesn’t involve cheese*.

More of the same followed as I was asked what toppings I wanted. The rules are more loose here. There are different things you can try, but there are limits. Coleslaw is a fine thing to add, sliced cucumber is just weird. I opted for a bit of red onion and said that was enough. I got a strange look for being satisfied with a sole topping. A few days after eating the sandwich I looked closer at an advertisement.

Look at all that lettuce! A good pulled pork sandwich is a savory, chewy affair. A bed full of watery shreds isn’t needed, it isn’t needed in the slightest. I’m left shuddering with thoughts of pulled pork with mounds of lettuce, limp tomatoes, banana peppers and god knows what else. How does the line go? It was not my strength that needed nursing, it was my imagination that wanted soothing. Next came the sauce, dispensed from a squeeze bottle like every other subway topping. You can see this is how the sandwich is represented in the ads, with a layer of sauce on top.

This is also less than ideal. Tf you’re going to involve sauce, toss the meat in it. The pork obviously isn’t prepared in house, so an additional bit of adulteration is only one more on the pile. (It occurs to me that they might avoid adding sauce to give you the option of
adding something like their chipotle southwest sauce. Oddly enough I would be ok with that, because at that point youve got a chipotle pork sandwich and I don’t care what the hell you do.) This is a pulled pork sandwich in the classic barbecue pulled pork sense, and tossing the meat in the sauce would be the best option.

The most important question here, apart from all of my uptight ranting, was whether or not the sandwich was any good. It was…it was alright. The pork was juicy enough, the sauce could have used less sugar and more smoke. I didn’t hate it but I didn’t love it. Meh.

There are a lot of subway restaurants. To foster growth, Doctor’s Associates was willing to accept a lower franchise fee than other major franchisors, and they were willing to put franchisees closer to each other than might seem wise. This was intentional, they had a goal of having more subway than there are mcdonalds and they achieved that goal. But this is not an abstract,”hey did you know” point. The hack jokes people told about Starbucks are accurate descriptions of subway and this has consequences. If you’re so hung up on being the biggest, being the best is an afterthought.

Subway doesn’t make terrible sandwiches. I think they’re pretty salty, but they aren’t outright bad. But they aren’t good either, and there is no worse place to be than the middle of the road. I can forgive aiming high and falling short, as in the Mad Maple at Joe Davola’s. But I cannot forgive lack of effort. I used “meh” for a reason. It represents a deliberate unwillingness to care, a 21st century rejection of enthusiasm. It is the perfect summation of Subway. There is no greater sin than being boring, and this was a boring sandwich.

This, in and of itself, isn’t worth getting worked up over. There are scads of mediocresandwich shops; long winded rants about each one wouldn’t be interesting to read or write. But Subway is ubiquitous. For a lot of people, Subway is sandwiches and that is what I cannot stand.

Subway is aiming above boring. A pulled pork sandwich is a departure for them, as is the recent promotion of the turkey with avocado. But they’re setting out to make these sandwiches with the same pattern, skills and effort they bring to everything else. Honey oat bread, add swiss cheese, dump the sauce on top. If it was good enough for the sweet onion chicken teryaki, it’ll be good enough for everything else. Meh got them here, and meh shall carry them through. This is the middling effort I cannot forgive. If you aren’t going to do pulled pork right, don’t bother. Spare us your sputtering attempt. Stick to ham and swiss, the Italian BMT. We’ll find pulled pork elsewhere.

*This argument ignores the grilled cheese with pulled pork that has become popular recently because that’s a grilled cheese first and the pork is not the central element as it is here.

Pulled Porkstravaganza, Part One — Lucille’s Smokehouse BBQ, West Chapman Avenue, Orange, CA

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We here at On Sandwiches have never made any bones about our deep and abiding love for the pulled pork sandwich. In August, we are showcasing some of our recent pulled pork experiences and seeing how they stack up against one another, and against our idea of what a pulled pork sandwich should be.

Lucille’s Smokehouse is a chain of BBQ restaurants in California, Nevada, and Arizona. They smoke their meats in-house and offer fine, traditional barbecue fare with ample portions. I have eaten there before and been extremely pleased.

Lucille’s offers three different pulled pork sandwich options: Original, Memphis Style, and Carolina Style. As we shall get into in future Porkstravaganza posts, the type of sauce offered with a pulled pork sandwich can, more often than not, tell the entire tale. I opted for Carolina Style, and I believe this is where I made my mistake.

I am a fan of spicy foods, although it must be in moderation. I am not one of those types who seeks out “the hottest hot sauce known to man” as a lark. Nor am I the type of person who, seeing a menu where the hot sauce options are presented in a graph resembling a thermometer, would motion anywhere near the top third when making my selection. Lucille’s billed their Carolina Style pulled pork sandwich as being tossed in a “tangy” East Carolina BBQ sauce.

When I think of the word “tangy,” it does not begin to describe what occurred when I took my first bite of this sandwich. I inhaled sharply, my eyes watered, and I fumbled for my water glass. This was beyond “tangy,” my friends. The sauce was so overwhelmingly hot, that I could scarcely finish the sandwich. The smoked pork, although fine, was lost in the heat of the sauce. It was a decent sandwich, and would have been just the thing if I were in the mood for an overwhelmingly spicy meal, but I will stick to less “tangy” options in the future.

 

Lazy Chicken — The Coffee Table Bistro, Colorado Boulevard, Los Angeles

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It’s rare that one encounters a sandwich that lives up to its name in a most unfortunate way. The “Big Nasty” was indeed big, and nasty-looking, but tasted great. The Lazy Chicken, I can only assume, is named after the care with which it was dreamed up, assembled, and presented.

It’s also rare that you’ll find me complain about a sandwich being given too plentiful a portion of its key ingredient. The Lazy Chicken consisted of grilled chicken breast, avocado, swiss, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and herb mayo on an onion roll. The picture does not tell the tale, but the chicken breast was simply enormous, spilling out at either end and probably an inch thick. just a giant chicken breast, slapped haphazardly onto a bun that could neither contain it nor hold up to the act of eating.

All main elements here were disappointing. The chicken was flavorless and a chore to eat. The bacon was burnt — burnt! — and the roll was overtoasted, dry, and the overall effect of such a lousy roll paired with such a massive slab of bland meat made the meal arduous rather than satisfying. File the Lazy Chicken under the “truth in advertising” file, and stay far, far away from this one.