The Perfect Sandwich

Pajamas, Hot Dogs, and Mustard

My dad was a two job guy. We lived in a representative, working class neighborhood in Brooklyn, which was to me, the paradise of the world. Representative I learned years later meant not just Jewish people, like us, but an equal mix of almost everything else. The working class is obvious.

My dad worked at a brokerage house on Wall Street as a runner from 9 to 3. That was his first job. His second job was at the Morgan Annex branch of the US Post Office, in mid-town Manhattan. He had started at the PO as a teen-ager, and was in it for the longest possible haul, a modest pension being the carrot at the end of his rainbow. His hours on that job were 4 pm to mid-night. He rode the subway to work. He never owned a car. Once in a long while he got driven home.

Cheese Steak Phanatic

I am from Philadelphia, and when I meet someone who isn’t from Philadelphia they always say “Oh! You are from Philadelphia. You must love cheese steaks,” because this is the only thing people know about Philadelphia.

Cheese steaks are embedded into the national imagination as “Philly food,” or “Philly phood” (mad men dreaming up ad campaigns for local Philadelphia business or sports teams love to replace “f” with “ph” whenever possible). Philadelphians bear this and other burdens patiently, but at a certain point, even the most sanguine lose their cool. How many times have I weathered cheese steak-related questions with the same bottled response, which is: the secret to a great cheese steak is the bread, and the secret to the bread is the water, and the water has to be Philadelphia water because otherwise it doesn’t taste quite right.

Zingerman's

I have a vivid memory of my parents entertaining friends on Christmas Eve in 1982. My mother threw all of her Protestant tradition out the kitchen window and ordered Zingerman’s pastrami on rye sandwiches with giant garlic pickles. I was enthralled by this rebellion at age six, although I had no understanding of what pastrami was. I just knew it was special.

The ingenious ingredients and thoughtful, bountiful preparation is half of the magic pf the pastrami sandwich. The other half is the Zingerman's magic, the palpable feeling of community provided by the owners, Paul Saginaw and Ari Weinzweig, who instill in all of their endeavors a familial rhapsody. (I have dined at the Roadhouse and had Ari come to the table to fill up my water glass more than a few times…enough said). In a town high on intellect, Zingerman’s employment is looked upon as social cache (or junior college).

Ham and Jesus

“I’m hungry. Can someone please help me? Please. This is serious. I haven’t eaten since early this morning. Please.” The plea came from a diminutive man I had just rushed passed on 8th Avenue in New York City. He was wearing a grey cap pulled down over his forehead and held a tattered white plastic shopping bag. It was 12:30 a.m. A hard March wind was blowing through Chelsea and everyone who passed this pleading man, was hurrying to someplace warm, including me.

I had just eaten at one of my favorite joints Casa Mono. I started with the pulpo with fennel and grapefruit and followed with the dorada with artichokes and langostinos (the langoustine tail meat was a bit mushy but still flavorful.) My belly was full and I still had the glow of a quarto of solid Spanish red.

For a reason I still do not know, after getting a few steps past this man, who was all but invisible to passers-by, I stopped and waited for him to catch up. When I offered a dollar bill to him, he said, “No man, didn’t you hear, I’m hungry. This is no joke. I don’t want money. I’m just very hungry.” “Really, no bullshit?” I said.

Melt the Vote

The 2008 National Grilled Cheese Month Campaign kicks off at Clementine on Tuesday, April 1st with an exciting and diverse field of grilled cheese candidates. Grilled Cheese Primaries will be held at Clementine during the first 4 weeks of April. Each week, five different sandwiches will campaign on the menu and when you order a sandwich, your vote will determine which sandwiches earn a spot on the ballot for Super Cheeseday(s), April 28-30. Your votes on Super Cheeseday(s) will determine the winner, our next Commander in Cheese, the Highest Sandwich in the Land.

Sandwiches