Rare Roast Beef – Clementine, Ensley Ave, Los Angeles

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I’ve visited Clementine before, and the quality of what I found the first time around ensured that I would return. This time I elected to try the rare roast beef: top round, roasted in house, matched with a horseradish mustard dressing, marinated onions and arugula on ‘rustic bread.’ I’m never exactly sure what something like ‘rustic’ means, but I in this case it seemed to mean a roll with a respectable but not overly tough crust, and that was a touch that made all the difference. A tough roll could have easily made eating this a chore, with all manner of filling creep. But the crust was chewy yet yielding, and it made the sandwich delightful overall. The beef is tender and juicy, the dressing spicy and flavorful, (but, as always, could have used more horseradish) and the arugula well present. Look at how much lettuce is in that sandwich! That’s no obligatory greenery, friends, that’s a part of the sandwich. The marinated onions were a bit more scarce, sadly, and in a lot of bites of the sandwich they were hardly there at all. In a different sandwich that might have bothered me, but this was fine with or without them.

Enough about what was on the sandwich, I’d like to note what wasn’t: cheese. I’ve spoken many times about the required slice of cheese, the inveterate sense that without a piece of cheese, something isn’t a sandwich. This is hogwash, of course, but I’ve been to more places than I can count who put cheese on everything in sight, practically throwing a slice at you as you walk in the door. Enough. Clementine is smart enough to realize that there’s enough here, that no cheese is necessary, that it would either be lost in the rest of the sandwich or simply gum up the works, and so they leave it off. That was downright decent of them, and I cannot thank them enough.

Short Rib and Mac and Cheese – Lemonade, Los Angeles, CA

lemonadeLemonade is a Los Angeles chain, a cafeteria-style eatery built around a variety of salads and braised meats. They also do sandwiches, most of which appear to be straightforward offerings with faith in their own simplicity. The short rib mac & cheese is a good example, as it’s nothing but pot-roasted short ribs and a helping of macaroni and cheese grilled between two thin sheets of ciabatta bread. There’s really very little bread at all, just a pair of crusts.

I talk a lot about how awful things can be when someone just aims for ‘good enough.’ To my mind, being content with mediocre is unforgivable, and it would be easy to see this sandwich as committing just such a sin. It doesn’t, however, and escaping that fate is a result of some subtle touches. The bread is a good example of what they’re doing right, as it neatly avoids the pitfalls of starch on a sandwich.

Most sandwiches deal strictly with a starch / something else / starch setup, and the reason they do that is because it’s what works. Bread, a contrasting substance, and more bread. That’s what a sandwich is. Adding a starch in the middle throws the whole balance off, and while many successful sandwiches incorporate some manner of starch (fried potatoes, usually), it’s a higher degree-of-difficulty. Lemonade solves this problem simply by stripping the bread to its bare essentials. There’s no fluff, very little chew, it’s just enough to hold things together. That’s the kind of thing that shows someone really thought this sandwich through. They didn’t simply slap two delicious ingredients together and call it a day. That makes all the difference, and ultimately one can hardly be accused of settling for good enough when the result is genuinely great.

Brentwood – Roast Deli & Market, Brentwood Village, Los Angeles

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When I left San Jose, I did so with a mournful note about leaving the bánh mì behind. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t be able to get them in LA, I noted, it was just that they wouldn’t be abundant. My early experience living in Southern California has borne that out, but it isn’t as if the place is a wasteland. Los Angeles has its own specialties, things that seem to appear on more menus than not. Pastrami is one of them, and brisket is another.

It’s brisket that fills the Brentwood sandwich at Roast Deli and Market. Tender, falling-apart slices of beef brisket join coleslaw, russian dressing and spicy mustard on Bavarian rye bread. That’s a fine lineup, and in concept I find very little with which to quibble. In execution, though, there are a few things that could have used some improvement. The mustard could have been spicier, but that’s some matter of taste and in any event a small matter. A bigger issue is the coleslaw.

With the brisket so delightfully soft in texture, the coleslaw plays a vital role in the sandwich. It offers contrast in texture, something with a bit of crunch to it to load the front of the bite, yielding then to the rich meat. It’s a simple but effective setup, but where Roast goes wrong is in mincing their coleslaw. It’s tough to make out in the photo, but there’s much too fine a dice on the coleslaw, leaving no substantial snap to offer contrast. And that’s too bad, because this could have been a very fine sandwich. The meat is juicy, the other flavors are well-balanced and highlight the meat, but ultimately the error in execution results in a disappointing sandwich.

Braised Short Rib – Fundamental LA, Westwood Blvd, Los Angeles, CA

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I’ve talked about Fundamental LA before, and what I found there last time was so delightful that a second trip was never in question. Thinking back to the braised short rib I enjoyed so much at Little Chef Counter, I elected for the sandwich of the same name at Fundamental. Aside from the name and the primary ingredient, though, neither sandwich has much in common with the other. In Fundamental’s case, it’s braised short rib with go chu jang, dandelion greens, pickled mung beans and garlic aioli on brioche.

That’s not your average lineup for a sandwich, and as with any stand-out sandwich lineup, there’s an implicit statement. In this case, I would venture that anyone who puts pickled mung beans on their sandwich is loudly proclaiming that they know what they’re doing. It’s a bold, almost pungent flavor and it would be all too easy for them to overwhelm a sandwich, even one anchored with the deep richness of short ribs. In this case, things are tempered by not only the beef but dandelion greens (an underrated source of richness when handled properly) and go chu jang, a fermented chili paste that brought exactly the kind of heat needed to corral the other flavors.

In short, the sandwich was phenomenal. Pickled mung beans on a sandwich are a promise, a pledge not to screw things up. Fundamental LA delivers.

Steak & Tabbouleh Sandwich – Made at Home

I happened to have a bit of tabbouleh left over last week, and as I do with so many odds and ends of food, my mind turned to a sandwich. It was quality stuff, fresh and vibrant, heavy on flavor and light on filler. It seemed to me that steak was a decent base for such a thing, and a bit of yogurt with some lemon zest would further round things out. I hoped to find a cheese that would play between the richness of the beef and the herbal notes of the tabbouleh, but in my fear of overpowering cheese I undershot the mark. I wanted a cheese with just enough tang to register, and so I stayed away from anything particularly pungent or bold. Mahón cheese was what I ended up with, and it didn’t quite do the trick. A Spanish cows-milk cheese, it comes in both a semi-soft young version and an older, harder, more flavorful form, and I went with the younger. That was to the detriment of my sandwich, a pity, but it was to the benefit of my knowledge so I can’t complain too much. Overall, the sandwich rated at tasty enough, and the next one should be even better.

 

Slummin’ It — Big Jack Daddy Burger, Buffalo Wild Wings

It’s been more than six months since the last installment of Slummin’ It, and that’s because I generally don’t go out of my way to eat terrible sandwiches. Sometimes I find myself in an establishment that promises 1600 calories full of burger (and fries?), a giant stupid pile of the usual lettuce/tomato/beef, plus a helping of pulled pork and some onion rings. I like big, stupid sandwiches in an abstract sense, and occasionally in real life. Buffalo Wild Wings is the kind of crap-on-the-walls establishment that should really excel at big, stupid sandwiches, so I was genuinely looking forward to what they could muster up.

This wasn’t the worst hamburger I’ve ever eaten in my entire life, but it does join a very short list of sandwiches I wasn’t willing to finish. It was dry and bland, the patty too thin to be anything other than well done, a meager offering of two onion rings, the whole thing just a sad display, like some manner of firework spinning in sad circles on the ground, putting out clouds of smoke.

I want to be clear that I did not expect this burger to be good. I expected gusto, not quality. I wasn’t expected pulled pork that had been lovingly smoked, I was expecting something that came out of a bucket and was reheated before being drenched in sauce. I was expecting sub-TGI Friday’s food, and I was still incredibly disappointed. It was just a bad sandwich, and that’s a bottom line that’s hard to escape. Modest or grandiose, at family-run landmark establishments or the Funnest Feedbag in all Fifty States, a bad sandwich is just a bad sandwich.

SlawBeJo – Capriotti’s Sandwich Shop, Wilshire Blvd, Beverly Hills

Capriotti’s is a small but growing sandwich chain. They fancy themselves towards the upscale end of things, and they make an effort to live up to that. The beef and turkey are roasted in-house, for example, although likely in the same sort of prepared-product-at-very-specific-company-standards sort of way that Subway bakes their own bread. I’m not 100% certain that’s the case, but the overall quality of the sandwich hints that it is.

The SlawBeJo is roast beef, coleslaw, provolone cheese, Russian dressing and mayo. The mayo jumps out at me. I respect mayo as a technical ingredient, one that brings a structural element to things. It’s there to prevent bread from getting soggy, not for the flavor. With both Russian dressing and coleslaw involved, there’s simply no need for additional mayo. That’s a conceptual error, though the mayonnaise boosters out there are well within their rights to champion their bland glop all they like.

Mayonnaise aside, this has the potential to be a pretty good sandwich. Contrast in textures, potential for a strong but balanced set of flavors, it’s all there. The problem with Capriotti’s isn’t their vision, it’s that their vision is stretched across nearly 100 establishments. The coleslaw is bland, begging for a bit of pepper. The Russian dressing is hardly present, likely the result of some cost-minded portion control. Flavor by way of committee ruined what could have been a very good sandwich, and there’s no excuse for that.

Brisket Sandwich – LA Buns & Company – Santa Monica Blvd, Los Angeles, CA

LA Buns & Company is an establishment right on the main drag in West Hollywood, a large food stand vending hamburgers, hot dogs, tacos and all the rest of the food one finds oneself craving as night rolls into morning. That’s about when I found myself there, and I was entranced by the brisket sandwich. Tucked in the corner of the menu, there’s a note to the side that reads “Sensational!” That’s quite a boast, and brisket stands out on a menu of quick-cooking, greasy-spoon food.

The sandwich itself is the same sesame-seed roll that holds all the burgers, piled reasonably high with slices of brisket and sauerkraut. I think sauerkraut is an underutilized sandwich ingredient, and it was a welcome addition here. The brisket was tender but a touch dry, but it had a good flavor with a touch of spice and a touch of tomato. All together, though, I don’t think I would hail it as sensational, and that raises the question of how much to hold menu copy against a sandwich. Looking to a menu board for an unbiased recommendation is a fool’s errand, I suppose, but lord knows I’ve taken less reputable advice in search of a great sandwich.

Merguez Sandwich – Got Kosher?, Pico Blvd, Los Angeles, CA

Merguez is a North African sausage, and the type on offer here is beef, flavored with fennel and cinnamon. That goes on a pretzel roll with harissa, a chili pepper spread that’s really quite delicious, chopped parsley and onions. It’s a simple sandwich, as I believe a good sausage sandwich should be. But the thing about simple sandwiches is that there’s less room for error.

Got Kosher makes their own sausage, their own bread, likely their own harissa as well. I like establishments that do that, both because it makes things more likely to be delicious, and when things fall short I know exactly who is to blame. In this case, the pretzel roll was delicious but the sausage fell short, leaving this sandwich as something less than a success. It’s possible for great bread to carry a mediocre sandwich, but not when there’s this little to back it up. The harrisa was also good, bright and flavorful, but the sausage was dry. It would be tempting to blame the dryness of it being beef, as opposed to pork or some other more moist meat, but the whole point of sausage is you have perfect control over how much fat goes in! If you stuffed it and you cooked it, you’re all out of excuses.

The pretzel roll really was very good, and should I find myself back at Got Kosher I’ll be glad to try something else on the same. It had a deep brown crust and a strong malt flavor, making it all the more sad that the sausage couldn’t keep up its end of the deal.

Tongue Sandwich – Attari Sandwich Shop, Westwood Blvd, Los Angeles, CA

Attari is a well known sandwich shop in the Persian section of West LA, and a survey of the clientele there on a Sunday afternoon indicates that it’s popular with the locals. The tongue sandwich seems to be the item on the menu everybody talks about, and that’s usually enough to get my order.

The sandwich is tongue, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and a light dressing with some fresh herbs. There is very little that’s notable about the fact that this is tongue, and if you think otherwise I suggest you eat more tongue. It’s a fine meat, not at all out of the ordinary in a great many cultures, and if the idea makes you squeamish it’s your loss. The tongue here was juicy and tender, well cooked but lacking in flavor. The dressing was good but there wasn’t nearly enough of it, and so the sandwich was dominated by a generic beef flavor and the pickles. The pickles are substantial and flavorful, but with a healthy portion of bland meat present the balance of the sandwich was off. Spiced properly, this sandwich would have been a knockout.

A sub-par tongue sandwich is especially disappointing, given that rely exclusively on people to prepare it for me, but I take heart in knowing that there’s a lot more tongue out there for me to try. It’s available sliced, stewed or roasted; I’m not likely to have to settle for mediocre tongue for long.