Tag Archives: Sandwiches Made For Me

Mexican Sandwich – Juquila, Shrewsbury Ave, Red Bank, NJ

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Though I recognize and celebrate the incredible diversity in the sandwich world, the basic pattern for a standard sandwich-shop is meat, vegetable and cheese. There is a lot of room in there to do a great number of things but what I have found is that too often this template is fleshed out to excess. Two or three types of meats are used as a base, all manner of vegetables are included and the cheese is piled on. I do not mean to claim that this cannot result in a tasty sandwich, indeed I have had my fair share of delicious substantial sandwiches. But often in these kinds of arrangements something is lost. Smaller, more subtle ingredients are drowned out or lost beneath the cheese. The more ingredients involved in a sandwich the lighter the touch required, the more care needed to ensure a proper balance of things.

I very nearly missed this sandwich entirely, as I scanned the menu for any kind of torta I completely missed the more direct ‘Mexican Sandwich.’ An associate pointed it out to me and so I got to see what it had to offer. I will praise the simplicity of it. It neatly sidesteps the issue I described above, being a simple construction of chicken, oaxaca cheese and avocado. The oaxaca cheese is a great cheese and is underutilized in the sandwich world. It has an understated flavor that goes with rather than over the other ingredients. I would sing the praises of avocados but I fear I would not come close to doing them justice and besides, I have no doubt you’re aware of how tasty a ripe avocado is. The chicken was undoubtedly the low point of the sandwich and is the main reason I’m going on about sandwich complexity rather than how good this sandwich was. Seasoned and grilled on the flattop the chicken had that sharp chemical taste that comes from an abundance of overcooked adobo. So while I will praise the restraint present in the construction of this sandwich, I am unable to praise the sandwich itself.

Catfish Po’ Boy – Poor House Bistro, South Autumn St, San Jose, CA

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I mean this as a compliment: There was nothing special about this sandwich. It was a straightforward po’ boy. Fried catfish atop a bed of slaw, tartar sauce and pickles to finish. Everything was well executed, the slaw itself was light and fresh and the tartar sauce was vibrant and flavorful. The catfish in the sandwich was fried to order which is the biggest thing a restaurant can do to ensure a fine sandwich. Other po’ boys I’ve eaten, as well as a crab cake sandwich that was spectacular otherwise, fry their main ingredient ahead of time and wait for you to order it. The result is often a limp, soggy sandwich. Poor House Bistro understands this challenge and rises above it, taking the extra time to make your sandwich after you order it. I assure you that this fine sandwich is worth the wait.

The reason I would praise this sandwich for taking no chances and doing nothing out of the ordinary has to do with how I view the role of the outpost. Every cuisine, and specifically every type of sandwich, has a home. It has a place of creation, a place where it was first refined and loved. It branches out from there, carried to restaurants, take-out counters and lunch trucks by dedicated fanatics or crafty entrepreneurs. It is my opinion that these individuals who take their cherished cuisine out into the world should present it in its classical form. Were I in Louisiana I would happily seek out a reimagined or deconstructed po’ boy but when I sit down for one more than 2000 miles away I want the dictionary definition of the sandwich. That is what Poor House Bistro delivers and I couldn’t think to ask for more.

Pizza Sandwich – Potbelly Sandwich Works, 555 12th St NW, Washington DC

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Pizza Sandwich

Potbelly Sandwich Works is a busy establishment and so as you wait in line a gentlemen takes your order and passes it off to the sandwich makers. When I ordered the the pizza sandwich he asked me what size I wanted. That seemed standard enough but I must admit I was quite surprised when he asked me if I wanted the sandwich with pepperoni and the mushrooms. The Pizza Sandwich at Potbelly’s is comprised of a white or wheat roll, provolone cheese, pepperoni, mushrooms, marinara sauce and Italian seasonings. Were I to decline both the pepperoni and mushrooms, then, I would be left with a sauce and cheese sandwich. I assured the gentlemen I wanted the sandwich as it was presented on the menu and in short order I found myself in front of the sandwich maker. He pulled my sandwich from the oven and asked me if I wanted Italian seasonings on it.

When discussing matters of sandwich philosophy I often claim that a sandwich that is presented as a menu item should be eaten exactly as it is described. I am not certainly not opposed to the concept of made-to-order custom sandwiches, I simply feel that if someone has gone to the length of creating an interesting, balanced sandwich you shouldn’t go fussing with it. I could have ordered the Pizza Sandwich here and without too much trouble had myself provolone cheese, marinara sauce and pickled jalapeños on a wheat roll. With no intended disrespect towards someone who might enjoy that combination it is not a Pizza Sandwich. What it comes down to for me is whoever is in charge of creating sandwiches for Potbelly Sandwich works has designed a Pizza Sandwich and I feel it would be disrespectful of them to have it any other way. As for this particular sandwich it was a pretty good sandwich, if you wanted it to be.

Egg Sandwich – New York, NY

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egg sandwich

“Two eggs on a roll, bacon, salt & pepper.” It is the thing I miss most about New York City. The location where I purchased the sandwich above was left out intentionally. Every deli has the same counter, the same griddle, the same flat of eggs all manned by the same crew. You make a simple request and for a fair price you get a simple sandwich. While there are countless breakfast sandwiches that feature eggs bacon and bread none of them are this sandwich. None of the parts are especially great, the roll nor the bacon are especially flavorful, but on the whole the sandwich is special. It is beyond cliché to talk up New York City and the last thing I want to do is post another tired, self-involved impression of the city but I find myself unable to explain this sandwich any other way. Ignore the fact that you cannot quite get this exact sandwich outside of New York. There is a moment after you are shoved off a crowded train, drag yourself upstairs and watch the sun starts to creep above whatever buildings surround you. You have a coffee in one hand and in the other you hold a fine, fine sandwich.

Tri-Tip Sandwich – Happy Hollow Market, Senter Rd, San Jose, CA

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tri-tip

When you see Happy Hollow Market from the road you are presented with some information and invited to make assumptions. A hand-painted sign on the slanted roof informs of the name of the establishment and some of the things they sell. There are things you expect from a market, such as beer, snacks and cigarettes at state minimum. The sign also informs you that they sell BBQ and Ribs. This is where you make your assumptions. The assumption I chose to make was that any BBQ sold from the inside of a mini mart was either very, very good, or very very bad. Figuring that most BBQ joints sell some manner of sandwich I decided to try my luck.

The market portion of Happy Hollow Market is exactly what you would expect. Tucked into the corner is a separate counter, behind which sit two men and a large oven. I ordered the tri-tip sandwich, one of the men took my money and the other took a large bun and piled on meat from a warming tray. It was wrapped in foil and I took it outside to one of the small tables.

Luck was not on my side. “Leathery” is not generally a quality I seek out in food and it was by far the dominant quality of this sandwich. Good BBQ has ‘bark,’ a flavorful crust that perfectly compliments the tender meat. The bark in this sandwich was comparable to beef jerky, though the comparison would be less than favorable. The meat itself was tough and dry. The best that could be said about the sauce was that it was not bland, but it was nearly all pepper and no smoke. I have a fondness for dives and holes-in-the-wall, but each one is a gamble. I am sad to say, dear reader, that this time I lost.

Spicy Rizzak – Tiny’s Giant Sandwich Shop, Rivington St, New York, NY

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A short while after I posted last week’s Panera Bread sandwich I got to thinking about a sandwich I ate some time ago. Back in December while spending some time on the east coast I stopped at Tiny’s Giant Sandwich shop and had the Spicy Rizzak. The reason I was thinking of it after the Chipotle Chicken is that it’s virtually the same sandwich. The Spicy Rizzak is sliced turkey, bacon, tomato, red onions with cheddar cheese & chipotle mayo on a toasted semolina hero. The Rizzak succeeds where the Chipotle Chicken fails in two big ways: The first is by having a lighter hand with the cheese, letting the chipotle mayo stand tall in contrast. Dairy and heat are a natural pair and it can be tough to keep one from overpowering the other on a sandwich. The second major contribution to the Rizzak’s superiority is the roll. The Panera Bread sandwich was presented on thin sliced french bread, barely rising above inoffensive at some points and rendered soggy by the tomato at others. The Rizzak comes on crusty semolina bread, a roll of strong body and texture that holds its own before yielding with a crunch.

Everywhere Panera Bread faltered Tiny’s Giant Sandwich shop excelled. It is comforting to me that with a little thought and a different hand a very poor sandwich can be turned into a very good one and I am thankful that establishments like Tiny’s are out there doing just that.

Chipotle Chicken Sandwich on Artisan French – Panera Bread, San Jose, CA

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It is one thing to sit down and eat 1000 calories in one sitting, without a side dish in sight. Any individual serious about food will do it at one point or another. It is another thing entirely to do it for this sandwich. I didn’t want this review to turn out like this. I wanted to be fair. I’m okay with being a snob, but I didn’t want to be a strict “This sandwich chain’s sandwich is HORRIBLE! This independent cafe’s sandwich is TREMENDOUS!” sort of snob. However the Chipotle Chicken Sandwich on Artisan French happens to be the first Franchise Sandwich I reviewed, and so here we are. This is not a good sandwich. The cheese dominates the entire thing, layered heavily and smothering all flavors. With the taste lost to the cheese the bacon adds nothing except additional cost. The best that can be said about the chicken is that it is inoffensive, in both portion size and flavor. The bread, and I was honestly surprised at this given the name of the establishment, the bread is barely there. It lacks body and flavor, more a container than an ingredient. You only get to eat so much in this life. There’s no reason to waste 1000 calories on this sandwich. I could go on, but in the end why dwell on a lousy sandwich? Here’s hoping for better things next time, friends.

The Smokie — Just Burgers & Q, El Camino Real, Santa Clara, CA

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(A quick note: My phone failed to store the picture I took of this sandwich. The photography on this blog will improve considerably in the coming weeks, I promise.)

I was accompanying an associate on an errand when I saw it. A professional light-up sign proclaimed “JUST BURGERS & Q”, while a smaller, computer-printed sign in the window specified that the Q in question was Bar-B-Q. I instantly made several assumptions about Just Burgers & Q and when I visited them that afternoon I found out that all of my assumptions were correct. This is the type of establishment that is offended even by the suggestion of a frill. It’s barely even a restaurant, pared down even for a take-out joint. 3 tables and less than a dozen chairs crowded the front, a high counter had a menu taped to it and beyond that a man who appeared to be the proprietor busied himself in the kitchen. He took my order from the back, rang my order up when he had a moment and when my sandwich was ready he brought it out to me.

As I sat and waited for the sandwich I found my anticipation building. When someone chooses to forgo the formalities of a restaurant it is usually because they know their food can stand without it. It is a bold move to deny your customers a pleasant atmosphere, daring them to admit that they only thing that matters is your food and that your food is very, very good. I thought it was all-or-nothing. I thought if the sandwich was good then the whole enterprise was a success, and if it wasn’t then I was just sitting in a dirty storefront drinking a watered down coke.

I was wrong. To cut to the chase the sandwich was no good but I am unwilling to write off the whole of Just Burgers & Q. The sandwich was a bed of shredded lettuce on a sesame seed bun, some shaved pork loin and a slice of tomato. That’s not much of a sandwich but what saved the whole thing from disaster was the sauce. The pork loin was soaked in a smokey bar-b-q sauce thick enough to hold the sandwich together but not so thick as to impede things. The sandwich was lousy but the sauce was amazing and as I ate it the disconnect between the two made me uncomfortable. The caramel notes in the sauce played against the spice and the whole thing just overshadowed the rest of the sandwich. The meat in the middle could have been roast turkey or tofu loaf, it was all lost. To have a sauce that is so obviously a product of so much work and love poured over a sandwich that no thought has gone into is an unacceptable dichotomy. The sauce at Just Burgers & Q is amazing, and for all I know the ribs are transcendent. The sandwich, however, is no good.

Sausage Sandwich – Giamela’s Submarine Sandwiches, Los Feliz Blvd, Los Angeles, CA

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When I moved from the east coast last year it was with the understanding that I would be leaving certain things behind. I wasn’t upset about this, I understood that if I wanted my shot at the sunshine I would have to leave things like snow and effective mass transit systems behind. I don’t regret my decision at all, but all the same I spend a fair amount of time trying to relate my life out here to the things I knew there, trying to find echoes and impressions of life back east. As my associates and I drove over to the restaurant I wondered how faithful it would be to the establishments I had known and loved in the past. I must say that were I to judge it solely on the design Giamela’s is a wonderful establishment, almost designed specifically for the transplant. Plastic checkered tablecloths covered the tables. The price for a refill was written on a paper plate and taped to the side of the soda fountain. The menu tacked to the wall displayed the restaurant’s original offerings in proper printing, with later additions and revisions written below in all capital letters. The atmosphere was as authentic eye-talian as I was likely to find, but this is not a blog about atmosphere.

Beneath the onions but above the wax paper is a hero roll and several succulent sausage links.

Beneath the onions but above the wax paper is a hero roll and several succulent sausage links.

As you can see from the photo, the sausage sandwich at Giamela’s includes onions. You cannot see that it also includes sausage and a sharp marinara sauce. All of these things are standard and I would have been more than pleased if they were the only things presented. Giamela’s went above and beyond what I might expect and included peppers, carrots and pickles. I had seen on the menu board that these things were included in the sandwich and I could have asked that they prepare my sandwich differently. I didn’t make that request because when I stopped to consider it, I was very curious about what they had done to the idea of a sausage sandwich. And what they’ve done is….well, they’ve added carrots and pickles. The sandwich was tasty enough, but I couldn’t get past what I saw as interlopers. They added nothing to the sandwich, with the pickles bringing an unwelcome sour crunch and the carrots an equally unwelcome brightness. How had they gotten there? My only guess is this: The idea of a sausage sandwich was, some time ago, carried west via the children’s game of Telephone. From person to person the recipie went, and somewhere around St. Louis “peppers” became “pickles.” 1500 miles later Phoenix made sure to twist “caramelized onions” into “carrots and onions” and in a grimy joint in Los Angeles the whole thing came together. And that left me, pleased with the note-perfect decor but less satisfied with one odd sandwich.

Bistro Club – Safeway Deli, Santa Clara, CA

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Bistro Club from Safeway

“Life,” I was once told, “Is simply a matter of basics and details. Rely heavily on one, hope the other comes together and you should be all right.” In sandwiches, as we have seen time and time again, as in life.

The Safeway Bistro Club is a sandwich that gets the basics right. The sandwich is an herbed focaccia bread bread with a hearty layer of chicken, a few slices of bacon, an avocado spread and a piece of lettuce. Chicken is the building block of a great many sandwiches, and far too often at fast food establishments it does not measure up. It is cold and tough, long ago chopped up and parceled out into the portion for one sandwich, regardless of the type. The Bistro Club, however, features large chunks of tender chicken, specifically selected for how well they would fit on my sandwich. It was put in the oven for a full minute, ensuring everything was heated through. I was so impressed with the quality of the chicken that I enquired as to whether it had been grilled on site, and I was surprised when I was told it wasn’t.

As well as the most important element of the sandwich is done, the details are not all there. The avocado, smooth and creamy, is a nice presence but has little in the sandwich to play off of. The avocado is a fine, fine ingredient for a sandwich and it saddens me when I see it merely included, instead of featured. The sandwich resists the urge to pile on extraneous ingredients, but I cannot help but wonder what the avocado might have been. In spite of this, well executed basics carry what is a surprisingly good sandwich.