Sometimes, not often but sometimes, I get myself a sandwich that wasn't particularly bad, wasn't particularly good, either. I make it a point to write about the damned thing but it wasn't even inspiring enough for the person to make it, how can I be inspired to write about it? These are those sandwiches.
Warning: There will be shit talk about independent businesses in this entry. I'll try to keep it as civil as possible, as much as I'm trying to remember where I got all these damned things from.
Franks-A-Million, as I think I've noted elsewhere in our hallowed halls, is the place in the food court you go when you want to spend too much on something too simple and wait ten minutes longer for it than you would anywhere else and you're the only person in line. Such was the case with the BLT I got that day, which I supplemented with steamed veggies from Shanghai Kitchen.
Shanghai Kitchen is now China Kitchen or something, which is a drag, because the old dude that ran Shanghai was always happy to see me and hooked me up on the reg with hot pepper sauce on my steamed veggies gratis. Eventually he started putting chicken on my veggies, too. That was nice.
Anyway, Franks-A-Million is run by this guy who looks and sounds like he's ex-Russian mafia and he has this little mute Mexican dude as a sidekick who always either looks confused or bummed out, like he just got dumped and he doesn't know why he's at work today all the time. Also, nobody knows for sure what their hours of operation are. On random - and that's literal random, not hyperbolic random - days they're open early enough to serve breakfast. Only once have I seen them close in th middle of a lunch shift. This is an eatery in a Skyway food court.
Next?
That's a chicken parm sub from Davanni's and, despite the Carl Buddig appearance of the chicken when what I expected was a breaded and deep-fried chicken patty, this was actually pretty good. But it's one of the things we (I) repeat all of the time here: It's hard to slather something in cheese and marinara and have it taste like shit.
Unless it's eggplant, which tastes like a hundred kinds of misery in the first place. I've been told baba ganoush is good, that even people who don't like eggplant like baba ganoush but, OK, shut up, I'm actually being serious here: I have a traumatic childhood memory involving eggplant. I mean I really hate eggplant. My appreciation for it is that is a lovely vegetable fit for photography or oil paintings but I will never eat it.
One time, Georgieinsisted that I try pestered me into trying her friend's eggplant parmesan despite my repeated refusals and my warnings that the moment that I could taste eggplant, I'd spit it over the fence.
Well, Georgie, who had a serious fucking hearing problem at the time, wouldn't lay off, so I begrudgingly took a bite to shut her up. I tasted the eggplant through the sauce and I got up from the patio table and spit it out over the fence into the neighbor's yard.
She looked at me horrified. "I can't believe you actually did that."
"I told you I would do that."
"It's just rude."
I know we just went off road there but that story is more interesting than this just OK sandwich.
Next?
I was made aware of this place after the downtown Arby's closed. Apparently, if you went in the Arby's from the street and left through the door to the side into the Northstar Building, you'd run into this little sandwich shop which has next to zero web presence. It has a Facebook page but no menu.
They have two varieties of Italian sub on their menu, the Minneapolis and the Saint Paul. I don't remember which is which but both have ham and salami, I think, and then it differs where one has pepperoni and the other has capicola or something. I don't know. It was such a baffler that it actually took me three whole minutes to make up my mind and that was after I asked the lady behind the counter which of the two was better. She just read the menu to me without looking at it or me. OK.
I think I chose the Saint Paul. That sounds like something I would do: Give Saint Paul some love. If you're not from here, while Minneapolis / Saint Paul really is just one big-assed city - I said it - cut in half by a river, it really is a noticeably different culture on the east of the Mississippi. Everywhere you go in Saint Paul is markedly different from Minneapolis. But before we get derailed by getting into the politics of how the Twin Cities works, one being the commercial center, the other being the capitol, etc etc etc, lets address this sandwich joint.
It's run basically the same way as a Subway, you get to pick out your veggies and all that but there are fewer condiments, toasting the sandwich is not an option, and the bread is bullshit. The tomatoes looked sketch as shit but I was fine.
Next?
I was in the throes of my chicken parm sub fit and I was just wandering the Skyway, looking for something appetizing that I hadn't had before, and - please believe me, I am so sorry about this - all roads lead to Damascus which... hold on, my sources are telling me... OK, yes, we have confirmation that Damascus is not in Greece, it is in Syria. It's actually in Syria and we are currently working with site moderators to have that joke stricken from Sandwich Bully and we apologize to anybody perhaps negatively affected by... OK, we have, OK, breaking news. I have just been informed that jokes about my geographic ignorance might not be in the best taste when dealing with a country ravaged by war.
Anyway, I wound up at Greek Grill & Cafe which I've had twice before and I guess I forgot about the food because all I could remember was Greek folk music recordings of ABBA songs on the muzak and that's the kind of thing that makes me happy.
I looked across the hall and saw that place had a meatball sub and I was like, "Aww, man," but upon further investigation, it was just Sorrento Cucina, the Uno, not the Due. So I didn't miss much.
Greek Grill & Cafe's food?
The meat tasted like usual gyro meat. The veggies were crisp. The pita was thick and chewy and not in the good way. They skimped on the tzatziki. It wasn't worth what I paid for it but, man, Skyway prices. You know how it is. Forget it, Jake, it's Chinatown.
Next?
IGrill is an Indian joint next door to work and their tandoori chicken is to die for. Their chicken biryani will make you faint. Their chana masala? Not as good as my friend's but their chana paneer? OK, I fuck with them.
The day before I got this sandwich, there was this guy out front talking about their new breakfast menu. Eggs, hashbrowns, French toast, pancakes, sausages... I told him I would be there tomorrow and I was true to my word. I stepped over there and asked if they had a breakfast sandwich. He says he can have that ready for me in five minutes and disappears back into the kitchen.
Five minutes and $3.50 later, I have the second hottest goddamned thing I've ever had wrapped in foil in my hands. (The absolute hottest? This thing.) Got it back to the office, unwrapped it and, well, you're seeing what I saw. The bread was a little damp, the sausage patty inside was a fucking hockey puck, the diced peppers and onions in the egg was nice, but this wasn't anything fantastic. I doubt I'll get it again.
See? That's what you missed this winter.
Warning: There will be shit talk about independent businesses in this entry. I'll try to keep it as civil as possible, as much as I'm trying to remember where I got all these damned things from.
Franks-A-Million, 28 November 2018
Shanghai Kitchen is now China Kitchen or something, which is a drag, because the old dude that ran Shanghai was always happy to see me and hooked me up on the reg with hot pepper sauce on my steamed veggies gratis. Eventually he started putting chicken on my veggies, too. That was nice.
Anyway, Franks-A-Million is run by this guy who looks and sounds like he's ex-Russian mafia and he has this little mute Mexican dude as a sidekick who always either looks confused or bummed out, like he just got dumped and he doesn't know why he's at work today all the time. Also, nobody knows for sure what their hours of operation are. On random - and that's literal random, not hyperbolic random - days they're open early enough to serve breakfast. Only once have I seen them close in th middle of a lunch shift. This is an eatery in a Skyway food court.
Next?
Davanni's, 16 December 2018
Unless it's eggplant, which tastes like a hundred kinds of misery in the first place. I've been told baba ganoush is good, that even people who don't like eggplant like baba ganoush but, OK, shut up, I'm actually being serious here: I have a traumatic childhood memory involving eggplant. I mean I really hate eggplant. My appreciation for it is that is a lovely vegetable fit for photography or oil paintings but I will never eat it.
One time, Georgie
Well, Georgie, who had a serious fucking hearing problem at the time, wouldn't lay off, so I begrudgingly took a bite to shut her up. I tasted the eggplant through the sauce and I got up from the patio table and spit it out over the fence into the neighbor's yard.
She looked at me horrified. "I can't believe you actually did that."
"I told you I would do that."
"It's just rude."
I know we just went off road there but that story is more interesting than this just OK sandwich.
Next?
Twin City Bites, 21 December 2018
They have two varieties of Italian sub on their menu, the Minneapolis and the Saint Paul. I don't remember which is which but both have ham and salami, I think, and then it differs where one has pepperoni and the other has capicola or something. I don't know. It was such a baffler that it actually took me three whole minutes to make up my mind and that was after I asked the lady behind the counter which of the two was better. She just read the menu to me without looking at it or me. OK.
I think I chose the Saint Paul. That sounds like something I would do: Give Saint Paul some love. If you're not from here, while Minneapolis / Saint Paul really is just one big-assed city - I said it - cut in half by a river, it really is a noticeably different culture on the east of the Mississippi. Everywhere you go in Saint Paul is markedly different from Minneapolis. But before we get derailed by getting into the politics of how the Twin Cities works, one being the commercial center, the other being the capitol, etc etc etc, lets address this sandwich joint.
It's run basically the same way as a Subway, you get to pick out your veggies and all that but there are fewer condiments, toasting the sandwich is not an option, and the bread is bullshit. The tomatoes looked sketch as shit but I was fine.
Next?
Greek Grill & Cafe, 11 February 2019
Anyway, I wound up at Greek Grill & Cafe which I've had twice before and I guess I forgot about the food because all I could remember was Greek folk music recordings of ABBA songs on the muzak and that's the kind of thing that makes me happy.
I looked across the hall and saw that place had a meatball sub and I was like, "Aww, man," but upon further investigation, it was just Sorrento Cucina, the Uno, not the Due. So I didn't miss much.
Greek Grill & Cafe's food?
The meat tasted like usual gyro meat. The veggies were crisp. The pita was thick and chewy and not in the good way. They skimped on the tzatziki. It wasn't worth what I paid for it but, man, Skyway prices. You know how it is. Forget it, Jake, it's Chinatown.
Next?
IGrill, 13 February 2019
The day before I got this sandwich, there was this guy out front talking about their new breakfast menu. Eggs, hashbrowns, French toast, pancakes, sausages... I told him I would be there tomorrow and I was true to my word. I stepped over there and asked if they had a breakfast sandwich. He says he can have that ready for me in five minutes and disappears back into the kitchen.
Five minutes and $3.50 later, I have the second hottest goddamned thing I've ever had wrapped in foil in my hands. (The absolute hottest? This thing.) Got it back to the office, unwrapped it and, well, you're seeing what I saw. The bread was a little damp, the sausage patty inside was a fucking hockey puck, the diced peppers and onions in the egg was nice, but this wasn't anything fantastic. I doubt I'll get it again.
See? That's what you missed this winter.
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