D’Amico & Sons, 17 July 2018

I typically don’t read reviews of restaurants before I go to one but I’ve worked (and eaten) downtown long enough to know that skyway delis use the term “deli” pretty loosely. I’ve been to two so far that use Carl Buddig lunch meat. I’m not talking shit on Carl Buddig lunch meat, I’m just saying it has its place. The working class family of four trying to stretch a dollar with their brown bags or in the fridge of the just-moved-out college kid who promises himself he’s going to be responsible and pack lunch every day this week but instead gets shit-housed and eats a whole pack of lunch meat in one night.
But it doesn’t belong in a deli.
So I ran reconnaissance on my first choice today, who I won’t name in the interest of fairness - can’t slag ‘em if I aint ate ‘em - and I saw some pretty blatant lunch meat abuses and one review said the Italian chicken sandwich was more like a “Caesar salad sandwich”.
Thus, I kept looking for deli options and I found D’Amico & Sons. And the first item on the sandwich menu?
Hot Italian, listed as “Genoa salami, ham, provolone, roasted peppers, mild pepperoncini, lettuce, tomato, vinaigrette on piccolo onion focaccia”.
OK, I’m intrigued. However, Kafe Nasty and I have been having something of (what he imagines is) an ongoing debate. He’s pro lettuce and I’m anti-lettuce. He cites factual data and I cite empirical evidence. I can’t for the life of me remember having lettuce on the Italian subs I grew up eating in Toledo - here’s one example I can find supporting my claim - and I seem to recall one doofoid motherfucker from Columbus vehemently agreeing with me to the point that we went to the deli counter at Rainbow and bought a shit ton of good meat and good cheese, a red onion, a tomato, some giardiniera, a bottle of Italian dressing, and no goddamned lettuce and presenting Georgie with what we told her was an authentic Italian sub, at least Ohio-style. Kafe Nasty was on board with this, all the way in, no pulling out and somewhere along the way, he switched his position on lettuce.

Anyway, I go over to this joint and I’m promptly tended to by a woman who must be having a bad day unrelated to work because the place aint exactly bopping and she seems outright harried. Like maybe they were in the middle of a robbery and the guys in ski masks were still in back because they hadn’t thought shit through and tried to go in at the tail end of lunch rush or something. I wait a not unreasonable amount of time for my sandwich which, from a distance, does not look as big as something I had just paid ten fucking dollars for before tip. But it’s downtown. The same blowjob I pay five dollars for on Franklin Ave is easily fifteen here.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
So how was it?
Well, first of all, the size thing? I had to out loud remind myself that this is what a healthy-sized portion of food is and that I should not go next door for a pair of margherita slices after this. I don’t want to get all slow and sluggish this afternoon. Also, I have chili dogs at home. Best to save room for those.
As far as how it tasted? Uh… Can we, uh… Can we bring back the - We can? We can use that again? OK.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
So, here’s the thing on that. The lettuce that Kafe Nasty is so fond of defending seemed to be a mix of dark green arugula and whole leaf iceberg. It added nothing to the sandwich except ruffage and ruffage doesn’t taste like anything. And speaking of things that didn’t taste like anything, I think you know where I’m going with this, the cheese?

The meat presented no bold flavor aside the salt tang from the salami that was lost in the sour tang of the vinaigrette that I’ll admit balanced nicely with the sweetness of the roasted peppers and played foundation for the pepperoncinis. The focaccia was soft and airy without being dry but I’ll be damned if the onions baked into it did anything for it.
I’m not trying to slag this sandwich off; I’ve had worse but it was unremarkable. It was good but it wasn’t revelatory. I’ve said it before:

An Italian sub, properly made, is hitting all the flavor activators on your tongue: salty meats, semi-sweet tomato and red wine vinegar, bite from raw red onions, bold umami from cheese and extra virgin olive oil, a good sour yeasty bread, and a little bit of sour spice from pickled peppers or the bigger kick of giardiniera, it’s a balancing act.

This sandwich presented a bit of tang and twang, little spice, no cream or umami notes. There are things on this sandwich that you just can’t taste which begs the question of what they’re doing there. If I can’t taste the cheese, why are you using that cheese? If your salami and ham can’t be distinguished from one another, why are you using both? And regardless of what side of the lettuce argument you fall on, if your lettuce doesn’t stand out and provide texture or flavor, why are you putting it on the sandwich?
On the positive side, the peppers, tomato, and vinaigrette were good but also the only distinguishable aspects of this sandwich.
A lot of my recommendation on this comes with the price tag taken into consideration. I feel like it usually doesn’t but this time it totally does. If this were a five to seven dollar sandwich, I wouldn’t be so picky. But this is a whole ten spot and then a tip. If I had to give this sandwich a grade, it’d get a C. If I want to bike an extra mile and spend two more dollars, I know where to get an A sandwich. This isn’t bad but I’d have to be a desperate motherfucker to go dropping thirteen dollars on this again.

Oh, and because Lettuce…