What’s the best French dip in Los Angeles? I have a particular affinity for the Frenchs dipped at both Phillipe the Original and Cole’s (in that order.) Some time ago I was surprised to learn that the general line on these establishments, at least in a certain crowd of Los Angeles eating enthusiasts, was that they weren’t that good. OK, sure, but far from the best French dip in town. So I’ve made it my business to try to find a representative sample of the sandwich. The early returns are in, and while I’ve yet to find a truly bad sandwich, most of them also aren’t great. The French dip is a pile of roast beef, some au jus, and generally some manner of horseradish or other peppery accompaniment. It’s delightfully simple and tough to screw up, which leaves it with a wonderfully high floor. But the fact that there isn’t a whole lot to it, which means it has a pretty limited ceiling. Which one is better than the other might just depend on the day, the context in which one eats it, or a host of other things that aren’t really about the sandwich itself. That’s not a tremendously satisfying conclusion, and it may be unfounded. Luckily, continuing research means eating more sandwiches, and I guarantee to you that I will do just that.
Category Archives: Sandwich Reviews
Pork Belly’s – Abbot Kinney Blvd, Venice, CA
Pork Belly’s Sandwich Shop is a new place that’s opened up on Venice’s Abbot Kinney boulevard, a stretch of Venice with more than its fair share of restaurants. Pork Belly’s isn’t likely to get lost in the shuffle, however, as there are few serious barbecue places in Venice or anywhere else on Los Angeles’ west side. They had a soft open recently, and they were kind enough to have your humble enthusiast by and offer a couple of sandwiches, gratis.
What you see above is The Chop, a brioche roll hosting a pile of chopped smoked brisket and a fair bit of coleslaw. It’s quite good, though I prefer brisket in falling-apart slices than minced, but that can be forgiven. Before it opened, I feared this was going to be another barbecue place that’s all tomatoes and sugar, with little regard for the more subtle aspects of barbecue. That turned out to be unfounded; while the brisket is sweet it is not overwhelmingly so, and there are a host of peppery, spicy notes. The coleslaw is a nice textural contrast and is lightly dressed, an important quality all too neglected in most coleslaws.
And for the namesake pork belly we have the Belly Up, smoked pork belly on brioche. (Virtually the entire menu is on brioche. I would argue this is an unnecessary affectation, but I understand the need to differentiate and signal the aesthetic to which one aspires.) I’ve discussed my issues with pork belly before, and all of that applies here. But this is incredibly well executed; the pork belly has a thick bark to it and a deep, smoky flavor. If I were a big fan of pork belly, I can’t imagine I wouldn’t be delighted with this. The menu says this comes with fried pickles on it, in the kind of hiccup common to a soft opening, mine came with coleslaw. That wasn’t bad, but I suspect the pickles pair even better. (The pickles were sampled, so this is not empty speculation. They are as good as fried pickles tend to be.)
Ultimately, Pork Belly’s offerings are quite good, with a caveat. The quality of the sandwiches was helped considerably by the dearth of options in Los Angeles, and West LA in particular. In a vacuum one could rate sandwiches with total objectivity, but it’s terribly difficult to eat sandwiches in a vacuum. In the context of its location, this is a fine sandwich shop. I heard one employee remark that there were no good barbecue places in Los Angeles. This is inaccurate, especially if you include South and East LA and the cities just beyond. But it’s a long trek from Venice to Bludso’s BBQ, especially when there’s now such capable execution on Abbot Kinney.
Porto’s – Brand Blvd, Glendale, CA
People have been suggesting I head to Porto’s from just about the day I set foot in California. It took me a while to get there, but after a visit I’m not sure I can sign on to the consensus must-visit rating. Both of the sandwiches pictured here were good, but neither were as good as they could be, and that’s a difficult thing to deal with. The above is pan con lechon, or roast pork with grilled onions and mojo sauce.
The second one pictured is the pastrami, with pickles, mustard and mayo. The roasted pork and the pastrami were both quite strong examples of their respective categories, but both sandwiches lacked balance. The pork needed more onion and more garlic flavor in the mojo, and the pastrami needed more pickles. Neither was a bad sandwich, but both had bites that reminded you of what the sandwich was capable of being, and that it wasn’t that. Porto’s was mobbed when I was there, and I’m told that’s generally the case. Perhaps that’s the root of the trouble: the need to turn out countless sandwiches every day with all due expediency leads to sub-par execution. Whatever the cause it’s all the pity when it makes the plate, and that was sadly the case at Porto’s.
Brisket Banh Mi – Gjelina Take Away, Abbot Kinney Blvd, Venice
On more than one occasion, both on this site and elsewhere, I have summarized a sandwich as “10/10 concept, 2/10 execution.” This is simply my preferred way of saying that something is a good idea but whoever executed it fell short. Although I hadn’t given it much thought, prior to eating at Gjelina Take Away, I would have been skeptical that the inverse was possible. 10/10 execution, 2/10 concept? If it’s such a poor concept, surely carrying it out can’t bring high marks. I’m still not sure if such a thing is possible, but if it is you’ll find it pictured above. Beef brisket on a bánh mì is not something I would have come up with, and I would argue that that’s for good reason.
Lots of things can and do go onbánh mìs, with a variety of flavor profiles resulting. That said, they tend to have commonalities between them, usually in the form of…well, Vietnamese flavors. I’m not sure an enjoyable bánh mì is possible without that, and the brisket bánh mì wasn’t encouraging. The beef was awfully rich and seemed bland in comparison to the kind of thing I’m accustomed to in a bánh mì, and overall the sandwich lacked a brightness that a good bánh mì has in spades. The brisket was just too much, and the cilantro wasn’t up to the task of reeling it in.
All of that said, this sandwich felt like exactly what it was intended to be. The brisket was tender and juicy, the vegetables fresh, present in sensible proportion, and the baguette had a tremendous crust. In short, 10/10 execution, 2/10 concept.
Gasol Chicken – Abbot’s Habit, Abbot Kinney Blvd, Venice
At first glance, the Gasol chicken sandwich seems like an incongruous lineup: chicken with melted swiss, roasted green chili, pesto,lettuce and red onion. But notice that it lacks tomato, a clear signal that this wasn’t quite thrown together. Of course, just because something is given a bit of thought doesn’t mean it’s going to work well. As it turns out, the Gasol chicken works quite well. The lettuce is plentiful enough to be an ingredient rather than an afterthought, and combined with the roasted chili and the pesto there are some fresh, bright veggie flavors that pair well with the chicken and the cheese. So what at first appeared to be a disparate gaggle of ingredients turns out to be a harmonious bunch indeed. That’s the magic of sandwiches, I suppose, and I dare say we’re all much better off for it.
Swordfish Sandwich – FOOD, Pico Blvd, Los Angeles
This was one of FOOD’s daily specials, which are often things that look good and also a bit more interesting than the standard menu. There’s nothing fancy here, just swordfish, coleslaw with something like a tartar sauce on a brioche bun. Still, swordfish isn’t an item seen on too many sandwiches. It’s expensive, temperamental in the cooking, and not wildly popular. So kudos to FOOD for going with it, and for producing a fine sandwich to boot. On the technical side, the brioche is key here. It’s been featured on a number of sandwiches discussed here, and it has a key aspect: it’s soft. Far too many sandwiches end up sliding all over the place, and a soft roll means that your bite has time to harness everything before it’s too late. So FOOD succeeds in both concept and execution, something not everyone can boast, and I’m all the more grateful for it.
Thai Chicken Satay – The Curious Palate, Venice Blvd, Mar Vista
The last time I was at The Curious Palate, I noted that a good number of their sandwiches would be quite a bit of legwork to put together from scratch. This is one of them: thai marinated chicken thighs, peanut sauce, scallions, avocado and a sweet sort of Japanese pickles on 5-grain wheat. Even if one were working with leftover takeout (a too-often neglected route to quality sandwiches) it’s still a stretch. But that’s what cafes and restaurants are for, after all.
Effort aside, this was a sandwich that seemed better in concept than it was in execution. Bites that had everything were quite good, with the scallions and pickles bringing bright tang and sweet notes to the sandwich. Where they were absent, though, the peanut sauce and the avocado made for richness on top of richness with little to balance things out. Too much richness, I have found, leaves a flavor profile that seems dull, almost muddy. That’s disappointing, but overall the sandwich clearly falls under the aim-high-and-miss I find so easy to forgive. Perhaps the next time I’m out for Thai I’ll have half my meal boxed up and give it a shot on my own.
Chroizo Smack Sandwich – TLT Foods, Westwood Blvd, Westwood
My last outing at TLT Foods was truly a bizarre one, but their use of cotija cheese ensured I’d be back. TLT Foods has a strong Mexican influence, and their use of cotija shows a commitment to the depths of that possibility. It’s not something that’s in widespread use, and it’s unlikely to impress most people on name or reputation. Therefore, we can reason, it’s there because someone put a fair amount of thought into the sandwich. So, senseless execution aside, TLT Foods is doing something right.
The “Chorizo Smack” is chorizo, pee wee potatoes, guacamole and oxaca cheese on a telera roll, all coated in a guajillo pepper sauce. That is to say, it’s a pambazo. A Mexican sandwich archetype seen less frequently than the noble torta, the pambazo is a classic combination where the flavor profile has long ago lost all rough edges. Everything involved works remarkably well together, and all that’s left to anyone is to see the standard setup through. This is where TLT Foods falters a tad.
The standard pambazo is grilled, but left too long on the flat-top and the pepper sauce will quickly scorch. That gives the flavor a bitter undertone, something not so objectionable as to ruin the sandwich, but still unwelcome. A pattern seems to be in place at TLT Foods, where very good ideas meet questionable execution. I’ll likely be back again, but what was once wariness has crossed into distrust.
Cold Meatloaf – Clementine, Ensley Ave, Los Angeles
I’ve been to Clementine a number of times, and I usually come away quite pleased. The sandwiches tend to be simple affairs, well executed. That’s usually enough, but the issue with a simple sandwich is that when something goes wrong, there’s little left to support what remains. Take the above. The menu promises sliced meatloaf, caramelized onions, iceberg lettuce and their ‘10,000 lakes’ dressing on country white bread. That sounds like it would be just fine, but the actual sandwich I was served didn’t have much to speak of in the onion department. They weren’t completely absent, there was one bite towards the beginning that reeled me in and another towards the end that assured me I wasn’t crazy, but in between there was little of the sweetness that would have balanced the sandwich out. Without the onion, the remaining sandwich was a bit dry and altogether unbalanced, something from which few sandwiches can recover.
It occurs to me that I’ve never had a genuinely good meatloaf sandwich. I suspect that it’s simply a more difficult task than most expect, and so the general effort tends to miss the mark. That’s a shame. I think that there’s a lot of potential there, but it will have to wait for some other day, in some other sandwich shop.
The McRibster – The Oinkster, Colorado Blvd, Eagle Rock
I have nothing but respect for the instinct that led to the above sandwich. I’ve eaten my fair share of questionable sandwiches, and each time I’ve spent time considering how things might be improved. More often than not, there’s a simple route. The McRib is a strong example here, where it’s only natural to look at that lackadaisical wonder of pork pricing and processing and think “Some quality ingredients, a little care, and this should be easy!” This is a very understandable impulse, and as it turns out, it is also very wrong.
The Oinkster put together a big hunk of pork ribs on a bigger bun, with pickles and onions at once more plentiful than the actual McRib but still not plentiful enough. The pork was dry and a bit tough, and there was quite a bit more bun than there needed to be. It would be easy to say that they simply tried and got it wrong, but I think the issue here really is the format. After all, what’s the ideal here? Tender, pull-apart pork, to the edges or even spilling out of a soft bun, with a present but second-fiddle textural and flavor counter. In other words, a good pulled pork sandwich. No, I think this is a case where the baby ought go soon after the bathwater. The McRib is the McRib for a reason, and there’s little reward in trying to gussy it up.
On Sandwiches 