Turkey & Chicken Pesto Sausage – Le Boulanger, Lincoln Ave, San Jose, CA

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The chicken & turkey pesto sausage at Le Boulanger

Greasy Sandwich Month continues with this song of a sandwich from Le Boulanger. First of all, it’s always nice to get a sausage sandwich that is in fact a sandwich, and not a hot dog masquerading as a sandwich. I sometimes feel a fool interrogating some poor staff member about whether it comes on a bun or a roll, and is it horizontal, yes, horizontal, this way, not that way. Yes, I insist, I’m aware it says “sausage sandwich” on the menu but that can mean different things to different people, and I would really appreciate a degree of certainty before placing my order. I digress.

The joy in this particular sandwich is not a product of construction, but constitution. The seeded sourdough roll is baked up with a hearty crust, and as any experienced sandwich eater knows, a hearty crust necessitates proper technique. The sandwich must be gripped with pressure in just the right places, holding all ingredients together without sending them sliding straight out of the side. It is a careful application of force, and this made for a wonderful pairing with the sausage. Each squeeze wrung a little more juice out of each bite, and juice by another name is fat, and so we return to grease. Pleasing in taste and texture, this sandwich was awash, the pesto flavors playing well with the roasted red peppers and the baby greens. The provolone was lost somewhere in the song, but you’ll get no complaint over that from me. Altogether, this was a very fine sandwich.

Chorizo Torta – Bakery Mexico No. 2, E Santa Clara St, San Jose, CA

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The Chorizo Torta from Bakery Mexico in San Jose, CA

What better way to kick off Greasy Sandwich Month here at On Sandwiches than with a seeded telera roll stuffed full of Chorizo? I got this sandwich to go, and upon unwrapping it the wrinkles in the tinfoil had each accumulated their own pool of grease. This might be enough to scare off some people, but not yours truly. No, fat provides both a pleasing taste and texture, and I welcome it. So let us celebrate the greasy, sloppy sandwich, starting with this very one. Accompanied by tomato and a healthy-but-not-obtrusive amount of cheese, the savory Mexican sausage soaked into the bread and made for a delightfully juicy, wonderfully savory sandwich. Not every sandwich should put you down for a nap, but every so often it’s just what you’re looking for. Without jalapenos or any other bold ingredients, this one stood on the strength of its grease and I am happy to say it was a success.

BBQ Pulled Pork Sandwich – The Oinkster, Colorado Blvd, Eagle Rock, CA

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The BBQ pulled pork from Oinkster, which for some reason was served without sauce.

A few weeks ago while in Los Angeles, my associates and I were all set to venture to a local sandwich shop to pick up lunch. It turned out, though, that there simply wasn’t enough room in the car for all of us. Having reviewed the Oinkster menu online, I felt secure in what I wanted and so I simply told them to bring me back a pulled pork sandwich. Having heard tell of The Oinkster’s reputation, I spent the wait imaging the sandwich I was soon to relish, stuffed full and singing with a fine Carolina sauce. That is not what I got. A quick glance at the picture above will tell you that something, somewhere went wrong.

It is hard for me to not get angry. When ordering a sandwich, it is an exceedingly rare occasion where I will make specific requests. I trust in the person who has come up with the sandwich that they understand balance and layering and that their desire to create a fine sandwich matches my desire to eat one. I trust that they will do right by me. I have been let down before, certainly, some yahoo will load up on the cheese or go wild with the chilies. But those are understandable sins, products of misguided enthusiasm. This…I don’t know how this came to be. It was a pulled pork sandwich served without sauce. Pork is a fine, fine meat, but a half pound of it sitting naked on a roll is, dare I say, bland. This sandwich was a movie with the last two reels missing, a season of baseball cut short by strike. The cabbage and onions were both tasty, but the lack of sauce was so distracting it was hard to enjoy anything about the sandwich.

The simplicity of the sandwich allows for a lot of latitude. There are a million different things you can do, and it excites me to see people explore new territory. But this isn’t a vision, it’s a mistake. When you stand up and claim you’re taking a shot at an archetype, there are rules. There are lines there to guide you, and this sandwich fell well outside. Next time I’m in LA I intend to return to the Oinkster, to see if they can’t right this wrong.

Meatball Sandwich – Premium Pizza, Hillsdale Ave, San Jose, CA

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Meatball Sandwich with onions, peppers, and mozzarella cheese from Premium Pizza

Is there a sandwich more capable of exceeding the sum of its parts than the meatball sandwich? There was nothing special about any of the individual ingredients of this sandwich. The meatballs lacked any sort of texture, the sauce was standard-issue, the cheese, onions, and peppers were all present but hardly worth a song. Together, though, together they are a meatball sandwich. And a meatball sandwich is something special. I had developed a craving for such a sandwich a few weeks back and had held off, knowing that the longer I waited the more satisfying the eventual sandwich would be. The parameters of what makes a meatball sandwich are fairly narrow, and this is to its advantage. Any place you find with a pizza oven can serve you up exactly what you are expecting to get, exactly what I needed to satisfy my craving. It was a meaty, zesty sandwich, bound together by oozing cheese and a crispy roll. It wasn’t the best possible meatball sandwich, but it was exactly what I needed.

The Piaf – Klein’s Deli, San Francisco Airport, San Francisco, CA

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"The Piaf" sandwich from Klein's Deli. Features roast beef, cream cheese, horseradish, dill pickle, and tomatoes on light rye. One’s options for food in airports might charitably be called “woeful.” Fast food, overpriced, overcooked hamburgers in pseudo-sportsbars, it just isn’t a friendly scene for your average sandwich enthusiast. I was surprised, then, to happen upon Klein’s Deli. Formerly a standby in the Portero Hill section of San Francisco, Klein’s has apparently taken up residence in two locations inside San Francisco airport. With their roster of sandwiches named after notable women of the 20th century, I thought I might finally happen upon a good airport sandwich. I ordered the Piaf, the legendary singer transmogrified into roast beef, cream cheese, horseradish, dill pickle and tomatoes on light rye. There will come a day when I bring you a report of an amazing airport sandwich. That is not today. The Piaf is a decent sandwich. It’s a fine concept; roast beef, cream cheese and horseradish would nicely compliment each other if deployed in the right proportion. That’s the issue, though, isn’t it? Cream cheese isn’t bold in flavor but it is perfectly capable of drowning out other notes, and there simply wasn’t enough horseradish here to stand up to it. The few thin slices of pickles also weren’t up to the task at hand. This could have been a really great sandwich, in a perfect world you’d see tender, in-house roasted beef, and enough horseradish to let you know it was there. But this isn’t a perfect world, and the sandwich I got, while tasty enough, just wasn’t that great.

Pork Shoulder on Coco Bread – Made at Home

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A homemade sandwich of pork shoulder, caramelized onions, avocado and cilantro on a coco bread roll

Between this sandwich and the earlier Pork Shoulder with Mojo Sauce, I’m beginning to consider slow-cooking pork shoulders for the sole purpose of making sandwiches out of the leftovers. When reheated in a skillet the pork becomes wonderfully crisp around the edges and in thinner pieces, presenting a wonderfully tasty backbone for a sandwich. I paired it with caramelized onions to contrast the spice of the pork, plenty of real, true avocado, and a bit of cilantro. I had baked up a batch of Coco bread, a sweet bread popular in Jamaican cuisine. What makes Coco bread so well suited for a sandwich like this is not just the sweetness, but also the softness and lack of crust. Assertive crust has its place, but on a sandwich like this you want the bread to give way straight to the pork, your star attraction. Coco bread did just that, completing a fine, fine sandwich.

Turkey & Avocado – Zino’s Deli, Bascom Ave, San Jose, CA

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Last week, when discussing the California Fresh from Le Boulanger, I called the paltry amount of avocado a “serious flaw.” If that was a serious flaw, I don’t know what to call what I got from Zino’s. Judging by the sign in the parking lot, this was previously a Quizno’s. When I saw this, I thought to myself, “Well that’s interesting. An establishment that’s broken away from the larger chain.” After eating there, I have come to realize it is less likely that they broke away and more that they were jettisoned. I ordered my sandwich, and as is customary at this type of eatery, moved down the counter to the toppings. It was there that I stood and watched something unfold that was nothing less than horrifying. The man standing in front of me picked up a plastic bag filled with some manner of green substance, halfway between a cream and a paste, and he squeezed the bag so as to collect this substance near the corner of the bag that had been snipped off. Surely this was not the avocado? The menu board had pictures of avocados on it! My attention shifted as I saw my sandwich come out of the conveyor toaster. There was a layer of cheese on it, with that sheen that sandwich shop toasted cheese always has. I can’t say the cheese was a surprise, the sandwich industry as a whole is very fond of cheese, but on top of the cheese were black olives. Olives, like a great many food items, have their place on a sandwich. But no one had asked me if I wanted olives. Further, I was standing in front of the toppings. Where had the olives come from? Why would they be stored separate from the other items? Things were going bad with some speed, and soon enough my greatest fears were confirmed. The man at the topping station took my sandwich, squeezed his bag, and laid a zig-zag stripe of green mystery down. He looked up at me and asked me what else I wanted. Shell-shocked, I believe I muttered something along the lines of “red onions, I guess…bell peppers…lettuce and tomato, sure.”

As my sandwich was being wrapped up, I considered walking out. Everything I know about sandwiches was telling me that I was in for it. I am a sandwich enthusiast, I am not a professional and I do not share the obligations of a professional. Still, the sandwich was now prepared and ready to be eaten, and how could I come before you and condemn it if I was unwilling to eat it?

This was a lousy sandwich. There was entirely much mayonnaise on both sides of the bread, and again, I was not consulted on that. If I were I might have suggested a substitution of mustard, but apparently Zino’s knows better. The so-called avocado was dreadfully bland, the cheese was unnecessary, the bread hardly even worth considering. I can usually find at least some element of any sandwich that I enjoy, but there was nothing here. This was just a lousy sandwich.

California Fresh – Le Boulanger, Lincoln Ave, San Jose, CA

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The "California Fresh" Sandwich at Le Boulanger Bakery, San Jose, CA

The California Fresh fro Le Boulanger is another fairly straightforward sandwich. Turkey breast, lettuce & tomato, red onion, avocado, mayonnaise and Dijon mustard come together on a dutch crunch roll. Sadly, the sandwich came up short on that last mark, containing what I would estimate to be not even half of an avocado. The avocado is a standard part of nearly every sandwich named for the Golden State, to skimp on it seems to me to misunderstand the basic premise of the sandwich. There was an abundance of mayonnaise, however, perhaps making the absurd suggestion that all forms of ‘creaminess’ are equal. A sandwich this generic couldn’t overcome this flaw, I thought, and as I ate I began mentally writing a negative review. As I continued, though, I was forced to reconsider my first impression. The dutch crunch roll, baked locally but not in-store, was outstanding. It had a hearty crust, the customary slightly sweet flavor, and had enough body to declare itself but not so much that it becomes a bread sandwich. The lack of avocado is a serious issue, and the rest of the sandwich is nothing special, but carried solely on the strength of a fine, fine roll, I would have to say this was a very good sandwich.

Friday’s Special – The Sandwich Place, Mission St, San Francisco, CA

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Friday's Special at The Sandwich Place, San Francisco, CA

The Friday’s Special from the sandwich place is a fairly straightforward sandwich. Beer battered fillet of sole, homemade tartar sauce, red onions and mixed greens drizzled with balsamic and olive oil. Where the sandwich really excelled was in the execution; The fillet was fresh-fried, meaning it still had some crisp to it. On far too many sandwiches the breading & frying is done so far ahead of time that by the time you eat it things are downright soggy. The sandwich could have used a few more onions and a bit more balsamic, a little bit more zing would have filled things out nicely. I must say it was nice to see a sandwich special that didn’t feature cheese. I go back and forth in my thoughts on cheese, and a lot of times it feels as if the cheese is compulsory. Not so at The Sandwich Place, it seems. Cheese wasn’t going to help this sandwich as so they left it out. Good show! On the whole, this was a fine sandwich.

The so-called “Italian Beef Beer Bread” – Four Peaks Brewery, E 8th St, Tempe, AZ

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The so-called "Italian Beer Bread" at Four Peaks Brewery, Tempe, AZ

A wrap masquerading as a sandwich. Sickening.

This is, sadly, familiar territory. This is the listing from the Four Peaks Brewery menu: “Lean roast beef with sautéed red onion, green peppers, mushrooms mozzarella and garlic honey mayo rolled in our fresh baked beer bread.” I cannot tell you how disappointed I was when the above was brought to my table.

I am left wondering who is to blame. It was only in going back and preparing to write this post that I actually noticed those words. “Rolled in.” In the poor lighting of the outdoor patio, and in my haste, I missed the crucial words that would have tipped me off to the fact that I was going to be served a wrap, and not a sandwich. Is my disappointment solely my fault? The heading for this section of the menu is “Alehouse Sandwiches.” Was it unreasonable of me to assume that any and all items under that listing would be sandwiches? When one considers beer bread, a tortilla hardly comes to mind. And that is what troubles me, friends. What can be excused by carelessness and unwarranted assumptions on my part can only be explained by callous disregard on the part of whoever decided to call this a sandwich. This is a wrap. I know that a lot of things have changed over the years, and words do not always mean what they once did, but a sandwich is not a wrap. It is not now, and it has never been. But someone at Four Peaks Brewery is either unaware of this or simply does not care. I made a mistake in not reading the menu closer, I’ll admit to that much. But I did not make the mistake repeatedly, day in and day out. I did not serve a customer expecting a sandwich piled on hearty beer bread a bit of limp flat bread. I try to give restaurants the benefit of the doubt, I don’t grill the waitstaff about the construction of their sandwiches. I will take responsibility for not ferreting out the fact that someone with such disrespect for sandwiches designed the menu at Four Peaks Brewery, but the responsibility for so abusing my trust lies entirely with the establishment.

In the end, I hope this will exist as a cautionary tale. Read your menus carefully. There are those out there who, through ignorance or recklessness, will try to serve you a wrap and call it a sandwich.