Turkey and Black Bean — Made At Home

Posted on by

A while back, I had an amazing sandwich from Porto’s that featured a black bean spread. At the time, I was struck by the simple elegance of an ingredient that I had never before considered. Recently, finding myself with a small quantity of leftover black beans, I was suddenly moved to try a small sandwich experiment. Hastily thrown together with what I had at home, I ended up with toasted wheat bread, deli sliced turkey breast, sweet hot mustard, the reheated black beans, and some Bermuda onion.

The experience was perfectly fine but nothing too great. The failure of this sandwich was the thrown-together nature of the sandwich. An attempt to make the ingredients at hand adhere to an experimental base could have gone much, much worse. As we have mentioned here before, the journey of your life’s greatest sandwich often begins at home on a lazy afternoon, tinkering with this and that.

 

Lemongrass Chicken – Green Bites Cafe, Bascom Ave, San Jose, CA

Posted on by

Green Bites Cafe is located in space that used to house Zino’s, an establishment that, to put it mildly, left a lot to be desired. When I saw a new sign out front I wondered if the proprietors had simply elected to re-brand, hoping to fool your average sandwich enthusiast. I am pleased to report that is in no way the case, and Green Bites Cafe is a brand new establishment. On top of that, I’m even more pleased to report that they make a delightful sandwich. The Lemongrass Chicken is a lemongrass marinated chicken breast, with pickled jicama, carrots, herbs and a special sauce. Wheat bread was suggested, which was just fine by me. The lemongrass flavor is subtle, and the pickled jicama is a wonderful flavor and crunchy bit of texture. The secret sauce had a hoisin sauce sweetness to it, but not so sweet as to overwhelm everything else. The chicken could have been a bit less dry, but the only place I’ve ever seen that can serve a moist chicken breast all day long is the late Crosby Sandwich Connection, so I don’t hold it against most places. What really made the sandwich sing, though, was that everything was fresh, just delightfully fresh and bright and vibrant. It may seem like things only go one way in this world of ours, but Green Bites Cafe stands as proof that sometimes the old rubbish is swept away and something lovely grows in its place.

Grilled Gouda — Made At Home

Posted on by

A couple of weeks ago, my closest associate suggested grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner, and of course I agreed at once. After preparing the ingredients, I learned that the sandwiches were intended to be grilled…on a grill. I was game, of course, but very intrigued as to the result of a grilled cheese sandwich prepared out-of-doors.

I am extremely pleased to say that the results were very pleasing indeed. The bread had ample crunch, the red onion had ample snap, the smoked Gouda was neither too mild nor too overpowering, and the fresh tomato added just a bit of sweetness and moisture to the affair. Of the two sandwiches I consumed, the crisper of the two was preferable. All in all, a worthwhile experience that I heartily recommend.

Meatball Sub – Paradiso, Auzerais Ave, San Jose, CA

Posted on by

A while back I mentioned a meatball sub from Togo’s in a post, dismissing it as “not worth discussing.” And that remains true, but as I sat down to this number I tried to think if I’d ever had a genuinely bad meatball sub and I couldn’t remember a single one. The Togo’s one may not have been notable in any way, but it wasn’t bad. The last time I talked about meatball subs here I asked if there was any sandwich that better exceeded the sum of its parts, and I’m inclined to think there is not. There’s something magical about an honest meatball and a bit of sauce that always hits the spot. This one was scarcely more than that, just some meatballs, sauce, and a bit of parmesan. A few slices of provolone would have really put it over the top, but even absent that it was a tasty, tasty sandwich. Sometimes the meatballs themselves cause an issue, if they’re substantial and firm they can get a bit tough to handle. Paradiso went about solving that problem by taking a knife to them before loading the sandwich, allowing the chunks of meatball to settle to a more manageable level. Going too far in this direction can leave your sandwich more sloppy joe than sub, but things stayed within reason here.

Thinking about it further, I’m not sure I’ve ever had a truly great meatball sub. From the floor/ceiling perspective it’s a very high floor, as your average meatball sub is likely to be pretty good. But I’m not convinced the ceiling is much higher than the floor, as it seems that the flash of beauty the simple combination produces can only shine so bright. That is no great sin, though, not every sandwich need light up the heavens. Sometimes we just need a tasty number on a sunny afternoon, and that was exactly what I got from Paradiso.

Turkey & Cheese Croissant — Student Bookstore, CSU Los Angeles

Posted on by

Ah, the prepackaged sandwich. I stood in line at the student bookstore, holding this item, and for the life of me couldn’t understand why. Purchased on a whim, I knew, with certainty, that I was in for an absolutely dismal experience. Visions of my colleague’s recent nightmare raced through my head.

Here, however, is our lesson for the day with regard to sandwiches. The lesson of experience surpassing expectation. It does not happen often. All too often, the sandwich falls well short of its potential, or is precisely what you expect, which is its own specific kind of disappointment — the disappointment of mediocrity.

When I opened this sad little package, I was surprised by two things: the first was that the croissant was moist and flaky, rather than the dry and crumbly mess I anticipated. The second issue was the cheese. I had expected — nay, known — that there would be one horrifying square of freakishly orange cheese topping off the affair. Imagine my shock when I saw instead a large, oval slice of what appeared to be genuine provolone — or near enough, at any rate. This sandwich, as with my recent experience at Billy’s was packaged with a packet of mayonnaise, and a packet of mustard. This, of course, is the standard for boxed sandwiches.

The sandwich was not bad at all, much to my endless stupefaction. Certainly, this was far from a “good” sandwich, but when one’s expectation is set at a 1, sometimes a 4 or 5 is heaven on earth.

Philly Cheese Steak – Philly Style Food, E Santa Clara, San Jose, CA

Posted on by

I have looked at the Bay Area cheese steak before, and I found it lacking. Philly Style Food is a more recent addition to downtown San Jose, and it sits almost directly across the street from the Cheese Steak Shop. It’s hard to imagine it is anything other than a direct challenge, a move befitting an establishment bearing the colloquial “Philly” in its name. Aside from the name, though, Philly Style Food makes no additional boasts of authenticity. There is no note on the origin of the bread, for example. It seems they are content to let the food stand on its own; it will either pass as Philly Style or it will not. I wish I could offer you a verdict there, but I fear they walk a line so narrow it would take a local to make a fair ruling. I have walked Philadelphia, friends, but I have not lived it. The sandwich featured what I know of a cheese steak sandwich; beef was thrown a flat top with onion, minced fine, provolone laid on top to melt. After placing that in a roll, pickles and ketchup were added, and that’s where my knowledge fails. (I had, as is policy at On Sandwiches, replied to the standard “Everything on it?” with a simple “Yes, please.”) Pickled and ketchup aren’t completely out of place on a cheese steak, but they’re not part of the traditional, classical concept, and more than that I could have sworn that that sort of sandwich hailed from some other part of Pennsylvania. In short, it seemed to me that a sandwich distinctly billed to be Philly Style was exactly the opposite. But I cannot say for certain, and so I will reserve judgement on the philosophical component of the sandwich.

What I do feel qualified to rule on, though, was the quality. It was a fine sandwich. The cheese melted all the way down, mixing in with savory beef and well cooked onions. The roll had a nice chewy crust and the ketchup wasn’t so sweet it took over the sandwich. So while I may not be able to say with any certainty whether or not this was strictly Philly Style, I can assure you that it was a tasty sandwich.

Turkey Asparagus Affair — Literati Cafe, Wilshire Blvd., Santa Monica, CA

Posted on by

Asparagus on a sandwich! I am a fiend for asparagus. I love it so. It is one of the finest of all vegetables. And yet, due to its proportions, I have never once considered including it on a sandwich. When I saw the name of this item on the Literati chalkboard, I could not resist.

I am pleased to say that this sandwich lived up to every expectation. The delivery method of the asparagus (cut in half, with the turkey rolled around each stalk) was inspired. The sandwich came together expertly, and I was happy as a clam. The fresh ingredients used at Literati go a long way toward aiding the experience, as the dairy-free pesto has just enough flavor to be a part of the sandwich without overwhelming the other ingredients.

Asparagus on a sandwich! How the mind reels! What other new delights await us in the infinite genre of the sandwich?

Short Rib Grilled Cheese – Biergarten, Western Ave, Los Angeles, CA

Posted on by

In direct contrast to the quad deck from Beer Belly, the short rib grilled cheese at Biergarten goes to work with minimal cheese and maximum short rib. Rather than letting the non-cheese materials be swept away, they’re highlighted. The whole thing comes off more like a melt than like a grilled cheese, much to its benefit. I apologize that it doesn’t come across in the photo, but the sandwich is packed with tender shredded meat that’s tossed in a bit of sweet sauce, playing wonderfully against the cheese. The sandwich is crisp and not too greasy. Thinking about it, I suppose I might feel differently if I came in looking for a grilled cheese, in a sort of inverse of the Beer Belly situation. There I looked for moderate cheese and got too much, here someone else might look for copious cheese and find too little. Ultimately it’s something that can only be settled by each enthusiast on their own terms. On this enthusiast’s terms, I will say, this was a delightfully nimble sandwich in a world full of lead-footed dunces.

No. 9 (Billy’s Club House) — Billy’s Deli & Cafe, N. Orange Blvd., Glendale, CA

Posted on by

It’s no stretch to say that I’m not exactly the most observant person. Still, I’m always very pleasantly surprised when I notice a new sandwich establishment tucked away in some corner I had hitherto never spotted. Such was the case when I happened to walk by the storefront of Billy’s, which was partially obscured by construction. When I went inside, I was overjoyed to find a legitimate delicatessen and restaurant, complete with sliced-to-order meats and cheeses and black and white cookies.

I looked the menu over and selected the No.9, which was a sandwich with turkey, Swiss, and ham on rye. I got the whole shebang to go, and when I got home, I found all manner of packets included with my sandwich: ketchup, mayonnaise, deli mustard. I dug into the sandwich and experienced the unmistakable flavor of recently-cooked and freshly sliced turkey breast. Phenomenal. The rye was hearty and rich in flavor. All in all, the sandwich was very pleasing, especially considering my having stumbled upon it quite accidentally. Only in looking the menu over again do I notice that this sandwich was meant to have included “Billy’s Dressing.” There was no trace of any such dressing on my bone-dry sandwich, and I selected a packet of mustard and half a packet of mayonnaise to augment to meal. I will have to revisit Billy’s soon and insist on the inclusion of the promised dressing. Only with the knowledge of this missing component do I find the experience sorely lacking in hindsight. But c’est la guerre.

 

Beer Belly Grilled Cheese – Beer Belly, Western Ave, Los Angeles, CA

Posted on by

Any sandwich enthusiast who takes a wide survey these days is bound to find a good number of grilled cheeses. Somehow they’ve caught fire and everybody wants to try their hand at some monstrous tower of cheese. For their part, Beer Belly offers a “quad-deck 4X4,” essentially two standard sandwiches melded together via more cheese. All told, it features cheddar, gruyere, asiago, and goat cheese. There’s bacon and maple syrup in there too, and why not? So many of these grilled cheeses set out not just to gild the lily, but to set in a few precious stones and then have the whole thing bronzed. Now, I have no philosophic objection to the ostentatious. But intention will always come second to execution, and when it comes to this quad deck I’m staying in steerage. It’s entirely too much cheese, with the asiago standing out mostly by virtue of an overwhelmingly grainy texture. The bacon is there because it’s the kind of thing one adds to signal a sandwich of supreme decadence, but it’s just lost in the cheese. The maple syrup, meanwhile, isn’t lost so much as willfully buried. I took to dragging the sandwich through the drizzle left on the plate, hoping to gain some sense of what the sandwich was supposed to taste like, in concept. It was no use. This was a poorly thought out shot at the moon, a sandwich assembled without sense or care. I appreciate a sandwich that wows me, but one that bowls me over is a bit too much.