Tag Archives: Reviews by Pete

The Kaiser – Coach House Liquors and Deli, S De Anaza Blvd, Cupertino, CA

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I recently read Tyler Cowen’s An Economist Eats Lunch, and I found it to be an interesting book. It presents a certain way of thinking about food with a heavy focus on thinking about inputs, demand, and how other such market forces might influence things. One of the suggestions is to seek out restaurants where the cost of operation is subsidized by a related enterprise. A family run restaurant attached to a motel owned by the same family is one example, restaurants at the back of a casino another.  Upon realized that Coach House had a well stocked deli counter stuck in the middle of a moderately upscale liquor store, I thought back to Cowen’s advice. The reasoning here is that liquor stores tend to do good business, and therefore there would be less pressure on the restaurant to squeeze the maximum profits out of everything. That’s where you run into pre-packaged avocado spreads, tired and wilted veggies, that sort of horror. And indeed, that’s what I found: the gentlemen manning the sandwich counter told me everything was cut fresh for the day, nothing was packaged. Subsidized by the surrounding liquor, the risk of wasting some food isn’t such a dire threat to the owner’s margins, and a better sandwich than might otherwise be had is the result.

The Kaiser is corned beef and pastrami, swiss cheese, lettuce, tomato and pickled jalapeños, and it was a fine sandwich. What seems logically reasonable holds true in practice. The ingredients were fresh, the price fair, everything you might expect from an establishment with some relief from the pressure faced by most. Thinking about it, this isn’t the first time this thinking has yielded me a fine meal. Bibo’s NY Pizza, one of the better places to get a slice in San Jose, was formerly located off the back of a liquor store. My own beloved Bánh Mì Saigon is in the back half of a jewelry store. This isn’t your average way to find a fine sandwich, looking around for something that might be riding some other business’ coat tails, but I suggest to you that if it results in a sandwich as tasty as the above it’s as fine a way to search as any.

Tomato Sandwiches Three Ways – Made at Home

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There’s a bit of news about the tomato making the rounds. It’s interesting enough, but it seems to be something of a science flag planted on a mountain of personal experience:

The mass-produced tomatoes we buy at the grocery store tend to taste more like cardboard than fruit. Now researchers have discovered one reason why: a genetic mutation, common in store-bought tomatoes, that reduces the amount of sugar and other tasty compounds in the fruit.

For the last 70-odd years, tomato breeders have been selecting for fruits that are uniform in color. Consumers prefer those tomatoes over ones with splotches, and the uniformity makes it easier for producers to know when it’s time to harvest.

But the new study, published this week in Science, found that the mutation that leads to the uniform appearance of most store-bought tomatoes has an unintended consequence: It disrupts the production of a protein responsible for the fruit’s production of sugar.


Supermarket tomatoes are terrible. Anyone who has eaten one knows this, and the genetic reason why it’s terrible is just a bit of interesting conversation. Many supermarket tomatoes spend some time in cold storage, which just damanges them further. Refrigerating a tomato destroys aroma volatiles, and given that tomatoes don’t have much flavor to spare to begin with the whole thing is lost. But don’t despair! For many of us there are other sources of tomatoes readily available. Farmer’s markets are increasingly common sights, and at many of these one can find some beautifully colored heirloom tomatoes, rich in taste. After reading the above article I figured the tomato could use some good news, so I picked up a few of these tasty tomatoes and set out to  put together a few sandwiches that didn’t just include tomatoes but featured them. Tomato sandwiches, not sandwiches with tomatoes.

The first sandwich involved the above heirloom tomato, streaked through with greens and purples. Anchovies went down first, then a layer of pan fried cornmeal mush, then the tomatoes. Cornmeal mush is something akin to polenta or grits, just cornmeal and a bit of salt cooked in boiling water, laid in a pan and refrigerated, then sliced and fried. It is bland, but that’s kind of the point. Anchovies are salty as all get out, and I felt the sandwich needed something that would dial them back a bit. The mush did that, but in all honesty it didn’t dial them back quite enough. I like anchovies a lot, but I always feel that if they were 25% less salty they’d be the greatest thing on the face of the earth. The salt is part of the attraction, but as was the case here it’s often just too much. But enough about those two things. The story here is the tomato. This tomato was delicious. What an odd fruit tomato is, that one finds oneself not celebrating that the taste of a tomato is amazing, but rather that the tomato tastes like anything at all. But it was sweet, juicy and firm, and exactly the kind of sandwich around which one builds a sandwich. This could have been better, but with a tomato this good you’re willing to forgive the sandwich a few faults.

The second sandwich was considerably more successful. Another three-ingredient job, a semi-tart orange tomato went on sourdough with avocado and black bean hummus. (The hummus was not much more than toasted garlic, black beans, and a bit of oil to smooth things out.) If I may praise my own doing, this is a strong example of the simple sandwich. It’s something that can be put together in just a few minutes for not much more than the price of cleaning the food processor, and it’s really quite tasty. Nothing involved overshadows the tomato, but the other two ingredients are quite flavorful on their own. In a nice example of why we bother with sandwiches in the first place, three good things go together and become great.

The third sandwich, the second with the heirloom tomato, was significantly more successful than the other. Sweet potato hashbrowns went down first, followed by sliced of tomato, topped by fennel that had been sauteed with garlic. The garlic had fried all the way to little crispy bits, and they were as tasty as you know such things to be. The sweet potato hashbrowns were crispy and had a rich sweetness that worked well with the brighter sweetness of the tomatoes. The fennel, of course, brought its own distinct flavor, and all of that came together in a really tasty sandwich. This isn’t drop-everything-and-try-it material, but if it sounds like something you’d enjoy I give it a strong recommendation. And if it’s been a while since you tasted anything other than the flavorless mush that is a supermarket tomato, I’d say you could find a worse starting point than this sandwich.

Grégoire’s Restaurant, Piedmont Ave, Oakland, CA

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What a pleasure it is, to find an establishment willing to put some effort into the humble sandwich. Part of the joy of sandwiches is how simple they can be; one often needs nothing more than two pieces of bread and a bit of something else to have a fine bite to eat. But another part of the joy of sandwiches is that they really can be taken to some wonderful heights. Such is the case with Grégoire Restaurant, a tiny establishment in Oakland that does brisk takeout business providing “gourmet food made affordable.” Above is the pulled lamb shoulder sandwich: lamb, with espellette pepper, sour onions and artichoke chips on ciabatta. This was an exquisite sandwich, a layering of subtle flavors all built around rich, savory lamb. The artichoke chips were bits of fried artichoke, which brought a bit of crunchy texture to the sandwich with a flavor not typically seen. The onions were not particularly sour and the espellette is a rather mild pepper, leaving the sandwich well balanced and altogether delightful.

Unfortunately, I did not quite care for the fried chicken sandwich, but I want to make no mark against it. Here we had fried buttermilk chicken with spicy cole slaw on french roll. A simple, honest sandwich. The spice was in the manner of wing sauce, which is far from my favorite heat profile and a big part of what I didn’t enjoy about the sandwich. The chicken was fresh fried, though, the slaw crispy and well paired. The execution was there, and in light of the first sandwich it was clear there was no real failing here, it just wasn’t my style of sandwich. This isn’t a two-ingredient sandwich because someone was lazy or anything of the sort. It’s was that someone put these two things together, saw that it was enough, and was wise enough to stop there. The resulting sandwich wasn’t for me, but it’s easy to see someone else thinking it quite nice. That’s inevitably the result when someone cares, and it’s very clear that someone at Grégoire’s cares very much indeed.

The Drippin’s – Poor House Bistro, S Autumn St, San Jose, CA

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I talked about the Poor House Bistro some time ago, and what I said then still stands. It’s a fine outpost, a respectable po’ boy in an area where such a thing isn’t in abundance. The reason I bring it up again is to draw a contrast to the Braised Onion French Dip featured on Monday. Both are very good sandwiches, both centered around a big pile of meat, but the things that accompany the Drippin’s are doing something very different than the French Dip from Oaks. Oaks had each ingredient trying to make its own mark: truffled watercress, sherry au jus and braised onions are all an ingredient plus an additional bit of spin. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that, but it makes a sandwich significantly harder to balance; featuring six things is always going to be harder than featuring one thing.

Poor House Bistro takes a more simple approach, in which the support is the support. In addition to the roast pork the sandwich features tomatoes, pickles, shredded cabbage and mustard. That’s not the default “everything,” most sandwiches at Poor House Bistro include mayo by default, but they leave if off the Drippin’s, much to the sandwich’s benefit. Leaving the mayo off gives the cabbage a crisp freshness that pairs quite well with the richness of the pork. This isn’t a question of laziness, it’s just a matter of understanding the sandwich. You’re there for juicy, tender, savory, and just peppery enough pork, and that’s exactly what you get.

I have also tried the BBQ Shrimp Po’ Boy at Poor House Bistro, and it struck me as one of those sandwiches where if it’s your thing, you’ll love it, but if not there isn’t much appealing about it. It’s incredibly heavy on the pepper, and while I do enjoy spicy foods I felt like this was a bit much, one strong note without much support at all. If pepper is your thing, by all means. If you lack that enthusiasm, though, the Drippin’s or one of the fried numbers is likely to set you right.

Pulled Braised Short Rib French Onion Dip – The Oaks Gourmet Market, N Bronson Ave, Los Angeles, CA

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Returning to Oaks Gourmet, let us once again consider a basic sandwich, upscaled. Aside from a heaping pile of pulled short rib, the Braised French Onion Short Rib French Dip from Oaks Gourmet contains braised onions, horseradish cream and truffled watercress on a toasted baguette, with the sherry au jus served on the side. That’s quite a sandwich, although not one that is entirely comprehensible. The question of how one truffles watercress is raised, for example. I suspect they mean that they’re using truffle oil, but the fact that they don’t just say that is rather suspicious. But aside from any nefarious truffling, this was was a really good sandwich. It wasn’t quite everything it’s supposed to be, I suspect, as it was not particularly earth shattering and wasn’t really a subtle, layered sandwich. But it was everything one wants a french dip to be, which is to say, a big pile of really rich meat. There wasn’t enough horseradish on it for my taste, but this wasn’t the first time that’s happened and it certainly won’t be the last.

Judging by this and the short rib sandwich from Little Chef Counter, I’m inclined to say that short ribs are a severely underutilized sandwich ingredient. It’s incredibly rich, savory, and it can be an incredible background for other flavors. Serving this sandwich with about half the meat present would have set up that background and left some room for the watercress and its truffling to play through, but as it stands it was all short rib. There are far worse things for a sandwich to be, though, so consider me satisfied.

Roast Chicken And Pepperoni – Ace of Sandwiches, El Camino Real, Palo Alto, CA

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There’s something unsettling about a place that boasts gourmet sandwiches and serves mostly cold cuts. I have mixed feelings about cold cuts, as I have discussed before, but surely even their boosters would admit they hardly jump to mind when one thinks “gourmet.” With some 50 or 60 sandwiches on the menu, most based around cold cuts and spreads, Ace of Sandwiches really comes off as an excellent deli more than anything else. There’s no shame in being a deli, of course, unless you’re running around claiming to be something else. I don’t know how I’m supposed to have faith in your enterprise if you don’t.

The sandwich above was listed as the special of the day and came recommended by the staff. It’s sliced roast chicken, pepperoni, mozzarella, red sauce, and red onions on a wheat roll. That’s a tasty if not particularly daring lineup, but I can appreciate a simple classic. Or I could, anyway, had the quality been a bit higher. I found the chicken to be dry, and the red sauce insufficient to cover that up. That makes two strikes against the gourmet idea, and I’m disinclined to wait around for the third to show up. There are too many sandwiches in the world to be tried, too many other eateries to explore, to sit down more than once with any joker insisting it’s an ace.

Crab Cake Sandwich – Alcove, Hillhurst Ave, Los Angeles, CA

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The last time I had a crab cake sandwich, I found it a bit plain. A lightly dressed slaw was one of the things I suggested might improve things, so I was happy to see the crab cake sandwich at Alcove came with just that. Beyond the slaw, though, there wasn’t a whole lot to get excited about. It wasn’t a bad sandwich. There was plenty of fresh crab in a well fried (perhaps overdone) patty. The roll was fresh. I would have preferred a traditional tarter to the chipotle aioli, but the aioli wasn’t bad. Essentially the whole thing just ranked squarely at “capably executed,” and it’s difficult to get excited about capable execution. It’s all well and good for a quick sandwich at a lunch counter, or a $6 number wrapped in butcher paper and only destined to hit the spot, but a $15 sandwich at a fine sit-down establishment really ought to aim for a higher standard, don’t you think? The very fact that you’re putting together a crab cake sandwich really implies more advanced obligations. I’ll have to try another sandwich at Alcove, some chicken number, to see if their other offerings end up so middling. Given the crab cake sandwich, I won’t be holding my breath.

Thanksgiving on a Bun – The Village Bakery, Los Feliz Blvd, Los Angeles, CA

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There are countless sandwich archetypes. The ham & cheese, the turkey pesto, the Italian, the French Dip, the Reuben, the Club Sandwich, the BLT. One of the things I enjoy about sandwiches is how many different types there are, and the variety that people find within the limits each form presents. But I also enjoy those limits for their own sake; I am something of a traditionalist and I prefer when someone makes a sandwich that exists comfortably within the form of what I understand a particular sandwich to be. What I enjoy about this is that everyone who’s making that sandwich is essentially attempting the same task. They might go about it in different ways or with different tools, but everyone’s aiming for the same mark. It allows for a kind of 1-to-1 comparison that isn’t possible in a lot of criticism.

In this case, we have the classic thanksgiving sandwich, previously seen here. The root of the form, of course, is thanksgiving leftovers. Roast turkey, stuffing, gravy, and cranberry sauce seem to be the standard requirements, and that seems to be a fine base, as I don’t know if I’ve ever consumed a thanksgiving sandwich that didn’t leave me satisfied. It is the rare sort of sandwich that has both a very high ceiling and a fairly high floor; it can certainly excel but the average example isn’t so bad.

The example at Village Bakery, thankfully, tended more towards the excellent half of that scale. The cranberry sauce was particularly choice, well spiced and full of cranberries, served on the side so you could pile on as much or as little as you wanted. The stuffing had been crisped up in a skillet or on a griddle, something that doesn’t make a huge difference but is certainly a welcome touch. The roast turkey was juicy, and the gravy was tasty and not excessive. The only complaint I have concerns the roll, which associates tell me can vary quite a bit depending on what’s being baked or who’s doing the baking. The taste was fine, but the exterior was just too tough. Toasting it might have crisped things up, but as it stood it took some effort to tear off a bite. That didn’t cause a catastrophic level of filling creep, but there was plenty of sliding going on. Thankfully, though, the sandwich was delicious and well worth the effort to corral things.

Strawberry Sandwich – Clover Bakery, Moorpark Ave, San Jose, CA

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What a fine example of the delightfully simple! Two pieces of milk bread, some whipped cream, and some fresh strawberries. Nothing more than is required, and it’s presented in a serving size that suggests it’s a treat. Fresh strawberries have a bit of bite to them, and that firm body is key to keeping things from getting sloppy. Berries previously frozen or stored in juice would quickly render this sandwich a big mess, but there’s no such mistake made at Clover Bakery. There’s not much to be said here,we just have a sandwich that would be more than welcome next to the right cup of tea or disgetif. Sandwiches don’t often make their way directly into the dessert course, but they do show up in a certain sort of way, in sandwich cookies or other confectionery treats. Here we see proof, though, that a sandwich infrequently seen is hardly unwelcome.

Smoked Salmon Sandwich – Little Chef Counter, San Pedro Sq, San Jose, CA

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I’ve been so impressed by previous visits to Little Chef Counter that as soon as I notice a new sandwich on the ever-changing menu I head over to give it a try. The braised short rib was delightful, the mushroom sandwich delicious, and the breakfast sandwich well executed. The smoked salmon sandwich is the latest, with salmon joined by basil aioli, watercress, and spring onions on the same roll featured in previous sandwiches. Sadly, the law of averages has struck. This was a disappointment, the salmon dry, the basil almost unnoticeable, the spring onion similarly scarce. It functions as a salmon sandwich, but that’s the only note. Dressing the salmon in the basil aioli would have gone a long way, although I can understand the hesitation to do such a thing. The sandwich was just missing something to stand up against the salmon; something peppery or a mustard vinaigrette would have gone a long way.

I suppose a sub-par sandwich from Little Chef Counter was inevitable, but it’s sad to see. My opinion might be colored in the tiniest bit by the fact that this replaced the mushroom sandwich on the menu, that was mighty tasty and this is a big step down. All that said, Little Chef Counter still has a pretty good record and the next time a new sandwich comes up on the menu, you can be sure that I’ll head there with all due haste.