Confit of onion is a classic technique wherein onions are simmered with white wine, stock and herbs until it reduces to a jam consistency. That’s what was involved here, along with chicken, feta cheese, red bell pepper and some greens. I like this sandwich in concept, but in eating it I couldn’t help but wonder why they didn’t just go with plain old caramelized onions. Onion confit can really be done up royal: homemade stock, anchovies, secret blends of spices, hours on the stove, you can really get into it and produce something special. But if you half-ass the thing you just end up with half-browned onions that are really kind of bland. That’s really too bad, because while the feta and the chicken are a great combination the sandwich was lacking the notes of sweetness needed for a decent harmony. I will say that it was nice of Bloom Cafe to provide the sandwich on regular old toast, and not slather things in mayonnaise where it wasn’t necessary. That indicates to me a strong conceptual awareness, something that makes the failure of execution in the onion confit all the more disappointing.
Tag Archives: Los Angeles
Clementine, Ensley Ave, Los Angeles, CA
The Tony’s Veggie-Luxe at Clementine is corn, red and yellow peppers, mushrooms, garlic and three cheeses grilled on sturdy slices of whole grain bread, and it’s delicious. I was reminded of the sandwich I had at Bread Nolita, the one where the eggplant and the zucchini were hopelessly lost in the cheese. This sandwich was everything that that one could have been, a delightful melange of vegetables, heavy on the sweet but with mushrooms to provide a grounding influence. The cheese was present but restrained, and the bread grilled in a way that walks just to the edge of burnt and stops, peering over that line. That might not be your thing, but I think it provides a wonderful depth of flavor. There’s nothing fancy about this, it’s just a delicious sandwich.
The Fernando doesn’t disappoint either. A toasted ciabatta roll held tinga de pollo, coleslaw, avocado and something they claim to be a secret sauce, but whatever it is it’s lost behind the smokey adobo flavor of the tinga de pollo. There’s spice here, but not too much of it, the coleslaw has a fresh snap, the avocado is as wonderful as avocados are, and the chicken was moist and flavorful. I don’t know that there’s much of anything you could do to make this a better sandwich, and that’s a rare feat. It’s balanced, complete, and tasty as all get-out.
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.
The Bronx Special – Canter’s Deli, Fairfax Ave, Los Angeles, CA
The last time I went to Canter’s (the real one, not the one in Las Vegas) I spent about two weeks crowing about the Reuben. I’ll still talk it up, given the opportunity. It’s fantastic. But readers are my first responsibility, and so when I entered Canter’s the other day I knew I couldn’t go back to the Reuben. That’s no great tragedy, as the menu offers all manner of other intriguing numbers. This time I went with the Bronx Special: pastrami and chopped liver on rye. The pastrami, as I knew it would be, was fantastic. I had high hopes for the liver, I’ve gotten some really good liver before and I figured Canter’s would know their way around chopped liver. Apparently I figured wrong, as I found the liver here to be dry and bland, and especially unpalatable in comparison to the pastrami. It’s possible that this is something like intentional, and someone didn’t want the liver to outshine the pastrami, but if one flavor risks outshining another the solution isn’t to do away with one of them. A healthy dosage of mustard helped the sandwich out (and thankfully the mustard selection at Canter’s is substantial) but the sandwich shouldn’t have needed that help. I didn’t care for the assembly required nature of things either, but I try not to complain about that too often or too much.
I’m still sold on Canter’s (good lord, that pastrami is good), but on my next visit I’ll steer clear of the liver.
Argentine Steak Sandwich – Food Lab, Sunset Blvd, Los Angeles, CA
Food Lab is a sandwich shop, in the sense of an establishment focused almost entirely on sandwiches. There’s a selection of salads to accompany your meal, but this is the kind of place that doesn’t even bother with the often-obligatory side of chips or fries. Sandwiches are what they sell here, so if you can’t be satisfied without a pile of potato to stick your head in, head somewhere else. And that focus is well founded, because they’re putting out excellent stuff. The Argentine steak sandwich was a special of the day, and it’s just the kind of minimal sandwich that comes from someone who knows what they’re doing.
Grilled steak, arugula, and chimichurri sauce. There’s a bit of mayo on the bottom half of the roll, keeping it from getting soggy, but aside from that this is just steak and sauce. That’s a good thing, because steak and chimichurri is a phenomenal combination and there’s no need to fuss with it, just put the two together and let them sing. There wasn’t quite enough sauce here for my liking, and I think the sandwich would have been better served by spreading the sauce on the top half of the roll, rather than putting it directly on top of the steak, but outside of that this was still a darn good sandwich. The roll had a hearty crust, but not one so hearty that a bite sent things sliding all over or required a full pulling, head-twisting effort. I have a special place in my heart for the simple sandwich, and something like this could easily be duplicated at home by any interested enthusiast. I recommend you do so immediately; there’s a delicious sandwich just waiting for you.
Beef Tenderloin And Turkey Breast – FOOD, Pico Blvd, Los Angeles, CA
FOOD is a small cafe on Pico that prides itself on using the finest ingredients. I do love a highfalutin sandwich, so that sort of thing is right up my alley and I was not disappointed with the first offering from FOOD. The roasted beef tenderloin is specified as Meyer’s, meaning it’s free of antibiotics and hormones and raised humanely. That’s the kind of thing that’s tough to verify on the consumer’s end, but it sure tasted like it was raised with care. (I question any definition of “humanely” that ends in slaughter, but that’s a debate for another blog.) It was tender, flavorful beef, well paired in thick slices with arugula, horseradish cream and roasted garlic-onion jam. The slice width becomes important, because the sandwich comes on a baguette that has a powerful crust, as a decent baguette should. That necessitates some serious chewing, and thick slices of beef are the kind of thing required to stand up to that effort. There was a good amount of horseradish here, and though I complain (as always) that it could have used more, I will say that it’s probably just right for your average sandwich enthusiast. The onion jam is sweet, well contrasting the beef and the horseradish. This is a fine sandwich, put together with care and consideration with a delicious result.
This was the oven roasted turkey breast, accompanied by Brie, arugula and cranberry chutney on ciabatta. Note the difference in bread, where a much softer roll pairs with the more yielding turkey. The pairing of cranberry and turkey is a classic, of course, extremely tasty in many instances. It was with the Brie where I felt this sandwich went wrong, and between this one and the French Bull at Bagel Maven I’m beginning to grow quite skeptical of about the role of brie on a sandwich. The BLT at The Oaks, while technically Camembert and not Brie, suffers from similar issues. The turkey was certainly overwhelmed here, and it seems to me that there isn’t much capable of standing up to any Brie that’s even slightly too far towards the ammonia end of the scale. It is possible that I’ve just not had the right Brie in the right sandwiches, but from here on out I’m proceeding with caution. Sans Brie this sandwich was quite tasty, and given the level of thought and care clearly put into each sandwich, it’s easy to forgive one that isn’t stellar. FOOD has a number of other sandwiches on their menu that look intriguing, and I wouldn’t hesitate to try any of them.
The German – Emil’s Swiss Pastry, Santa Monica Blvd, Los Angeles, CA
Emil’s is first and foremost a bakery, and most of their attention goes into the cakes and the tarts and the macaroons and not into the sandwiches. This might spell doom at some establishments, but at Emil’s a secondary concern is still a concern, so despite the fact that the chicken schnitzel in the German sandwich was not fried fresh, care was still taken. It was placed by itself in the sandwich press while the rest of the sandwich was prepared, giving it an acceptable, if not quite full, level of crunch. The German is a simple sandwich, and the rest of the sandwich is simply tomatoes and cranberry sauce on Bavarian rye. There’s enough mayo to keep the bread from being soggy, but not enough to be noticeable otherwise.
Perhaps I’m guilty here of the soft bigotry of low expectations, but much of my pleasure with this sandwich stems from the fact that it could have been much worse. It could have been a soggy patty and soggier bread, a sorry sandwich carelessly tossed out by a place more concerned with cakes and other confectioneries. But it wasn’t. It was tasty enough. I’m not certain the tomatoes needed to be there, as the sweetness from the cranberries is far superior and not burdened by the mushy texture, and I would have used some of the balsamic that went on the spring mix on the sandwich to temper the sweetness a bit. So this could have been much better, but it could have been much worse. I often rail against ‘good enough,’ but I do so in the sense of lack of effort, of an acceptance of mediocre results. But there was care taken here to avoid the worst of outcomes, and so I feel comfortable in celebrating it for what it was: a pretty good sandwich.
Fat Sal & Fat Jerry – Fat Sal’s Deli, Gayley Ave, Los Angeles, CA
“A taste of New York in Los Angeles” my eye. That was the line on Fat Sal’s deli from a local newspaper, a taste of New York in Los Angeles. I’ve lived in New York. I’ve eaten my share of sandwiches there. New York sandwiches are the reason this blog exists. You know what people who make sandwiches in New York know how to do? They know how to make an appetizing sandwich. There are a variety of ways to do this, but here’s one sure-fire come up short: stuff a hero roll with every blasted thing you can think of. Take the Fat Sal, the namesake sandwich pictured above. A garlic hero struggles to contain roast beef, mozzarella sticks, onion rings, fries, brown gravy and mayonnaise. In an abysmal case of subtraction by addition, that massive pile of stuff turns into an ugly mash of gravy, breading, and mayo. I can’t think of a single place in New York City that would offer me the above.
The Fat Jerry isn’t any better. Cheesesteak, chicken fingers, mozzarella sticks, bacon, fried egg, mayonnaise, ketchup and salt and pepper overwhelm a poor hero roll. Where the Fat Sal tasted of gravy, this one was all breading and egg.
In truth, I saw this coming. The mozzarella sticks are the giveaway. I’m sure mozzarella sticks have a fair place on a sandwich, but I’ve never seen them in any context other than an intentionally wacky, get-a-load-of-this sort of sandwich. It’s a flag, flown high and with pride, signalling that restraint has been abandoned, good sense jettisoned. Aren’t we crazy? mozzarella sticks ask, and I can only think to reply yes, yes you are.
I get that the things I’m complaining about are the entire point of the endeavor, but a bad idea executed as intended is still a bad idea. I dined here with my esteemed associate Bill, who pointed out that for all the ingredients in essence what you had was a bland gravy sandwich and a bland egg sandwich. For such large sandwiches, he remarked, they were surprisingly small. That might be the most damning thing, that for all their swagger, these sandwiches are nothing more than blowhards. I know New York, Sal. New York was very good to me. You’re no taste of New York.
Grilled Chicken Sandwich — La Brea Bakery, Downtown Disney, Anaheim, CA
There are times when the sandwich you eat is the perfect sandwich. There are also times when the sandwich you eat is the perfect sandwich for that particular time or occasion. This offering from the La Brea Bakery was possibly both. Recently re-opened just outside of the gates of Disney’s California Adventure, the La Brea Bakery is, naturally, known for its fresh-baked bread. When I saw that one of its items was served on a pretzel roll, I did not hesitate. My adoration for the pretzel roll is, I believe, well-documented on this site.
The sandwich — grilled chicken, butter leaf lettuce, avocado, tomato, and aioli — was fantastic. It was far better than the sum of its parts and its crowing achievement was the pretzel roll, enhancing everything contained therein. Even the inclusion of butter leaf over some of the more preeminent staples of sandwich lettuce was an inspired choice. As I had recently experienced at the Village Bakery and Cafe, the decision to slice the grilled chicken rather than present a complete, boring grilled chicken breast was once again the most correct decision that could have been made.
If there was one problem with this sandwich, it was that there was an unusually high amount of filling creep. But even as by sandwich became messier with each bite, I still marveled at the pleasure derived from eating it. The La Brea Bakery provided me with an unexpected treat on day I sorely needed one.
On Sandwiches 
