I do not know Roberta. I have never met her, never even tasted her creations.
"They're masterpieces," TJ tells me. Masterpieces. Every sandwich should be so lucky.
Roberta works at Subway. Yes, Subway. At a gas station Subway in Worcester. Who'd have thought? Her turkey subs are legendary, at least to me.
It just goes to show that a good sandwich is not necessarily about focaccia, cider marinades or garlic aioli; it's about the person putting it together. Roberta would never skimp on mayonaise. To all you fancy bakeries and taverns out there-
neither should you.
Showing posts with label sandwich. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sandwich. Show all posts
Friday, December 11, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
It's missing Something
I am considering stashing condiments in my purse. You never know when you may need one. Case in point- the "Grilled Chicken Focaccia" sandwich of Oliver Wright's Tavern at Old Sturbridge Village. I know what you're thinking and yes, I succumbed to the convenience of over-priced museum-run dining. I do, however, have to give the Oliver Wright Tavern credit for a creative yet simplistic menu that reflects old-fashioned New England flavors and dishes while still being trendy. Still, and possilby to the benefit of this rather sparsely written blog, I couldn't afford the Guinness beef pie that I wanted and instead opted for the sandwich described as grilled chicken, fresh spinach, sauteed mushrooms and fontina on focaccia bread ($10.95).
It seemed like a safe bet, unless they managed to under cook the chicken or give me rotten spinach or something dreadful like that, and I didn't expect a place that served complimentary cornsticks with honey butter to commit such a food travesty. It was, in fact, a good sandwich, but one which garnered a jinx-worthy table remark of "it's missing something," a vague review that deserves analysis,especially since this appears to be a common problem with food in general.
"It's missing something" means there isn't anything wrong with what is there. What you're eating tastes good, but, well, it could be better. Often, the missing component is a bit of acidity, or even salt. In the case of this sandwich, it was a little more complicated. Aside from the fact that the fluffy herbed bun it was served on bore no resemblance at all to the square, olive-oil stippled bread that focaccia should be, everything tasted quite nice, and I really don't think that the words "herbed roll" in lieu of "focaccia" would have deterred my ordering of it. Between the bread (whatever it was) sat a generous piece of perfectly grilled, slightly charred but-still-moist chicken breast, fresh leaves of spinach and flavorful, well-cooked, sliced cremeni mushrooms beneath perfectly melted fontina. In short, I wouldn't have changed anything about the existing ingredients or how it was made, but it needed something more. Though it's hard to identify exactly what that something should be, the lack of any sort of spread or sauce on this sandwich seemed an obvious oversight. I think it wanted a garlic aioli, but really plain mayonnaise would have been good enough. Maybe it just needed a good grainy mustard. The point is, with just that one extra thing, it would have been spectacular. I would have licked my plate clean if only I'd had mayonnaise in my purse!...
...On second thought, maybe that's a bad idea after all.
It seemed like a safe bet, unless they managed to under cook the chicken or give me rotten spinach or something dreadful like that, and I didn't expect a place that served complimentary cornsticks with honey butter to commit such a food travesty. It was, in fact, a good sandwich, but one which garnered a jinx-worthy table remark of "it's missing something," a vague review that deserves analysis,especially since this appears to be a common problem with food in general.
"It's missing something" means there isn't anything wrong with what is there. What you're eating tastes good, but, well, it could be better. Often, the missing component is a bit of acidity, or even salt. In the case of this sandwich, it was a little more complicated. Aside from the fact that the fluffy herbed bun it was served on bore no resemblance at all to the square, olive-oil stippled bread that focaccia should be, everything tasted quite nice, and I really don't think that the words "herbed roll" in lieu of "focaccia" would have deterred my ordering of it. Between the bread (whatever it was) sat a generous piece of perfectly grilled, slightly charred but-still-moist chicken breast, fresh leaves of spinach and flavorful, well-cooked, sliced cremeni mushrooms beneath perfectly melted fontina. In short, I wouldn't have changed anything about the existing ingredients or how it was made, but it needed something more. Though it's hard to identify exactly what that something should be, the lack of any sort of spread or sauce on this sandwich seemed an obvious oversight. I think it wanted a garlic aioli, but really plain mayonnaise would have been good enough. Maybe it just needed a good grainy mustard. The point is, with just that one extra thing, it would have been spectacular. I would have licked my plate clean if only I'd had mayonnaise in my purse!...
...On second thought, maybe that's a bad idea after all.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Everyone
Perpetually in search of a good sandwich, I tend to always believe food reviews when they rave about one, and especially if multiple reviews rave about one.
Case in point- the "Boston Globe Favorite" ($7.25) at Bread and Lily in Newton Highlands (where the old Ice Cream Works used to be). Said sandwich is described thusly:
"Cider marinated and fire grilled chicken breast sliced and stacked with fresh apple and fennel slaw, shaved red onions, thyme infused mayonnaise, and provolone cheese on a tender [Iggy's] sourdough roll."
"Everyone" seems to love this sandwich, and though I don't normally believe in crowd mentality, I do like to feel confident about the food I buy. I wanted to love it too.
Unfortunately, and I can't precisely pinpoint why, I didn't love it. The bread seem not toasted enough, the cheese seemed not melted enough, the thyme mayonnaise seemed not thick enough (or there at all), the slaw... was good. It was just... not enough. The thing is, I wouldn't really change anything flavor-wise, except maybe add bacon (never hurts). The ingredients are top notch and, where possible, house made or at least locally sourced. Perhaps the problem boils down to one of construction; the creamy mayo and sweet yet tangy fennel and apple slaw played well off each other, but there was only enough mayo to hint at an ethereal pairing.
Maybe Bread and Lily is catering to an older, more health conscious crowd with slower metabolisms. Bacon and mayo aside, this sandwich would be much improved simply with a more thorough toasting of the roll, thus caramelizing its own innate sugars. Instead, a quick broil left the exterior too soft, and fluffy which, in my opinion, would only be okay if it was just out of the oven. In most cases, bread just tastes better lightly toasted, so why not? Or better yet, brush it with olive oil and press it. No one can resist a good panini.
To further my disappointment, the sandwich came with house made sweet potato chips (also loved by this anomalous "everyone"), which were surprisingly not good considering how pretty they looked on the plate and my penchant for sweet potato fries. I did, however, really like the pickle, which gave me hope. Their menu sounds so enticing. I'd love to believe it.
Case in point- the "Boston Globe Favorite" ($7.25) at Bread and Lily in Newton Highlands (where the old Ice Cream Works used to be). Said sandwich is described thusly:
"Cider marinated and fire grilled chicken breast sliced and stacked with fresh apple and fennel slaw, shaved red onions, thyme infused mayonnaise, and provolone cheese on a tender [Iggy's] sourdough roll."
"Everyone" seems to love this sandwich, and though I don't normally believe in crowd mentality, I do like to feel confident about the food I buy. I wanted to love it too.
Unfortunately, and I can't precisely pinpoint why, I didn't love it. The bread seem not toasted enough, the cheese seemed not melted enough, the thyme mayonnaise seemed not thick enough (or there at all), the slaw... was good. It was just... not enough. The thing is, I wouldn't really change anything flavor-wise, except maybe add bacon (never hurts). The ingredients are top notch and, where possible, house made or at least locally sourced. Perhaps the problem boils down to one of construction; the creamy mayo and sweet yet tangy fennel and apple slaw played well off each other, but there was only enough mayo to hint at an ethereal pairing.
Maybe Bread and Lily is catering to an older, more health conscious crowd with slower metabolisms. Bacon and mayo aside, this sandwich would be much improved simply with a more thorough toasting of the roll, thus caramelizing its own innate sugars. Instead, a quick broil left the exterior too soft, and fluffy which, in my opinion, would only be okay if it was just out of the oven. In most cases, bread just tastes better lightly toasted, so why not? Or better yet, brush it with olive oil and press it. No one can resist a good panini.
To further my disappointment, the sandwich came with house made sweet potato chips (also loved by this anomalous "everyone"), which were surprisingly not good considering how pretty they looked on the plate and my penchant for sweet potato fries. I did, however, really like the pickle, which gave me hope. Their menu sounds so enticing. I'd love to believe it.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
may as well be true to the name
i changed my mind, at least for the time being. why not just write about sandwiches? everyone likes them, at least in theory. honestly, if you're one of those people that avoids them due to their seemingly declasse-ness or carbiness and ALWAYS ignores them in favor of "fancier" things like salad or stuffed sole, you may either (a) continue reading as a learning experience or (b) go away. i don't care, really. no one reads this anyway.
now, by sandwich, i mean any sort of filling placed in between any type of bready thing. in this i include panninis (obviously), burgers, hotdogs, calzones (but not pizza), shawarma (and the like), and burritos. a chicken ceasar salad wrap, however, is NOT a sandwich, argue as you may.
admittedly, there was a time in my life when i too took sandwiches for granted. one too many boring peanut butter on whole wheat, and burnt grilled cheeses made me wary (thanks mom). but my current obsession with sandwiches can be traced all the way back to my most recent (and only) trip to paris in 2000, where something as simple as gruere shoved between a freshly baked, thickly buttered baguette proved to be 24 inches of sheer gustatorial bliss. since then i've had many an interesting sandwich, but it took years before i located another, truly euphorial one, maily because i just didn't bother ordering them.
menu items like canned chicken salad on untoasted wonder bread do not help the sandwich's cause. despite the mistaken belief that mayo and/or bacon fixes everything, a sandwich, like all meals, is only as good as its ingredients- house baked bread is a plus under most circumstances. after that, it's all about layering flavors- bread, spread, filling, vegetables or even fruit, sauce or dressing. even then, how everything is put together matters- should the bread be toasted first, does the whole thing get grilled? pressed? baked?
confused? it's not actually so hard to get right, which is why it comes as a shock when one just plain sucks. more often than not, what you get will be decent. in fact, you're probably better off ordering a basic sandwich over anything else if you're unsure of a restaurant. it's very hard to go wrong with a turkey club, for example, since both mayo AND bacon are involved, and, if you ever get served one with untoasted bread or flacid bacon, you have the right to leave without paying.
i'm looking for something better than decent though. i'm looking for god. in my sandwich.
now, by sandwich, i mean any sort of filling placed in between any type of bready thing. in this i include panninis (obviously), burgers, hotdogs, calzones (but not pizza), shawarma (and the like), and burritos. a chicken ceasar salad wrap, however, is NOT a sandwich, argue as you may.
admittedly, there was a time in my life when i too took sandwiches for granted. one too many boring peanut butter on whole wheat, and burnt grilled cheeses made me wary (thanks mom). but my current obsession with sandwiches can be traced all the way back to my most recent (and only) trip to paris in 2000, where something as simple as gruere shoved between a freshly baked, thickly buttered baguette proved to be 24 inches of sheer gustatorial bliss. since then i've had many an interesting sandwich, but it took years before i located another, truly euphorial one, maily because i just didn't bother ordering them.
menu items like canned chicken salad on untoasted wonder bread do not help the sandwich's cause. despite the mistaken belief that mayo and/or bacon fixes everything, a sandwich, like all meals, is only as good as its ingredients- house baked bread is a plus under most circumstances. after that, it's all about layering flavors- bread, spread, filling, vegetables or even fruit, sauce or dressing. even then, how everything is put together matters- should the bread be toasted first, does the whole thing get grilled? pressed? baked?
confused? it's not actually so hard to get right, which is why it comes as a shock when one just plain sucks. more often than not, what you get will be decent. in fact, you're probably better off ordering a basic sandwich over anything else if you're unsure of a restaurant. it's very hard to go wrong with a turkey club, for example, since both mayo AND bacon are involved, and, if you ever get served one with untoasted bread or flacid bacon, you have the right to leave without paying.
i'm looking for something better than decent though. i'm looking for god. in my sandwich.
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