You know, an Italian Beef. That thing taking a slab of beef that’s been soaking in its own jus for the last three years, piling it on a hoagie roll, burying it under a bunch of giardiniera, putting it on a plate with a cup of the aforementioned au jus for dipping, and then throwing it all in the trash in favor of roast beef and provolone with giardiniera, banana peppers, lettuce, tomato, onion, mayo, and Italian dressing on your choice of white, whole grain, or rosemary focaccia!
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Hold on, I have an old picture somewhere that’s right for this.
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Hold - It’s not on my - Well, did I upload it?
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Picasa is now Google Photos. I thought I heard something about that.
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OK… Ah, here it is! So, let’s rewind the tape…
… roast beef and provolone with giardiniera, banana peppers, lettuce, tomato, onion, mayo, and Italian dressing on your choice of white, whole grain, or rosemary focaccia!
For those of us who don’t speak Italian, Beef Italiano roughly translates to “Italian Beef”…
From there, they describe the sandwich: Roast beef, provolone, and giardiniera with the aforementioned (second time I’ve used that word in one post) “fixins”, which is their hoagie slaw: Lettuce, tomato, onion, banana peppers, mayo and Italian dressing. So I wasn’t surprised at what I got.
I just needed to experience it, to know what this thing was about. Because so far, the Looch’s sandwich selection exists seemingly for the sole purpose of confounding me.
The Italian has turkey and cheddar on it. It is, in assembly and flavor, a club sandwich with pepperoni instead of bacon.
The Muffuletta is an Italian sub with olives on it. Not even olive salad. Olives.
The Italian beef? This fucking thing is just a roast beef hoagie. Look at that picture up there. Does that meat look like it’s been swimming in jus since three in the morning? Is there a little cup nearby for dipping?
NO! THERE ISN’T! THIS ISN’T AN ITALIAN BEEF!
This is an Italian beef the way the Reuben at B*wiched is a Reuben.
Yeah, that’s right. We’re going there. The midterms are over, motherfuckers! The time for civility has passed. You know how I always reference that warehouse district eatery that cuts your pickle into three chunks and puts it in a cup but I never reveal their name? Yeah! B*wiched.
Their Reuben? Pastrami, havarti, coleslaw or some sort of sweet pickled cabbage, and coarse ground mustard on caraway rye. That’s three out of five, sixty percent, the majority of the ingredients are changed. You can no longer call it a Reuben! Like a Rosalyn or something but not a Reuben!
And you can’t take an Italian beef, load it up with lettuce, tomato, mayo, blah, blah, and blah and still call that fucking thing an Italian fucking beef! You’ve made a different thing out of it!
“Well, how about ‘beef Italiano’?”
Fuck you! You can’t do that! You just can’t! That’s lying to people!
“Well, what if we tell people up front that we put all this shit on it and include a picture of it so they can see it?”
NO! THAT’S EVEN FUCKING WORSE! THAT’S LIKE IF I SHOWED YOU A BASKET OF KITTENS AND TOLD YOU IT WAS A VOLKSWAGEN! AND YOU WERE EXPECTED TO BELIEVE IT!
“OK, but what if we put it on the receipt as ‘Spicy Beef Italiano Hoagie’ so that way it’s more like you got an Italian hoagie but you got it with spicy beef on it?”
NO! There are rules as to how we’re supposed to conduct ourselves. I can look at you stone faced and tell you Lake Erie is orange even as you look at it and can see that it is - Well, OK, bad example. Lake Erie is kind of orange. It’s a very polluted lake. Let’s use Superior. I liked Lake Superior. In fact, now that I think of it, I’ve seen three out of five Great Lakes. Huh. I think I might have a new life goal.
I’m sorry, what were we talking about?
Oh, yeah, how the Looch has fake menus?
Sorry, I had to swing at that one. That was an underhand toss.
Anyway, the giardiniera was firm in texture, hot and sour in flavor. That stood out. Otherwise, this is just a hoagie.
There’s a reason they’re called Pizza Lucé and not Sandwich Lucé. Pizza, they can do. I know some folks call them overrated and I used to call them the best and I don’t anymore. I’ve found better pizzas at other places that don’t deliver. I’ve found cheaper pizzas that will deliver to me if I were in fucking Texas that I won’t order again. I’ve had other pizzas that I thought were the best that I really wasn’t into the last time I had them.* Pizza Lucé? I don’t think they’re overrated, I don’t think they’re the best, but they are consistent, they are the only place in town with baked potato and garlic mashed potato pizza, they are one of the few places in town that doesn’t cut their pies into squares, they are, I think, the only pizza joint that caters to the gluten intolerant and vegan crowd at the same time, and they’re pretty good to boot. Give them money for their pizza.
Just their pizza.
Their sandwiches? Hey. This was the third strike. Can’t endorse them.
* Back in 2016, Red’s Savoy permanently lost my business, I don’t give them my money, I don’t eat their pies.
But then, at my Union conference this year, my local ordered a fuck ton of pizza and I was on my third square of veggie and sauerkraut (actually pretty good, by the way) before I noticed the box tops said Red’s Savoy and I was like “FFuucckk…”
But I’m pleased to report that they weren’t as good as how I remembered them the time I had them with Georgie before the racist stuff, so that’s a big plus, right?
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