Falafel sandwich at L’As Du Fallafel

The people standing behind us in line described the experience as being “like the Soup Nazi.” These falafels had been recommended to me first by my mom, who was in Paris a few months ago, and subsequently by every single Paris food writer whose work I read in my trip research. (My favorite Paris-specific blogger that I’ve found is David Leibovitz. Serious Eats also recommends L’As, and they know what’s up.)

We waited about 10 minutes in line, during which someone came up to us, asked how many falafels and drinks we wanted, and then took our money and gave us a slip of paper. After being approached by no fewer than five con artists yesterday, we were concerned it might be a scam, but decided at the very least it was a very good one. Happily, it wasn’t. I got to the window first and the man making the falafels asked me, “Quelle genre de boisson que vous voulez?” Before I had time to mentally process his question and what my response would be, he shouted at me, “WHAT KIND OF DRINK DO YOU WANT?” Soup Nazi indeed. I’ll forgive his coarse demeanor, though, because the sandwich he made me was truly amazing.

The falafels themselves were delicious and fresh. I could see someone in the kitchen deep frying them as my sandwich was prepared, and they seem to go through them pretty quickly. I feel confident that the falafels on my sandwich were made no longer than 10 minutes ago, and most likely 5. They make the sandwiches really quickly, too. I think it all went from pita to cabbage to eggplant to falafel to tzatziki and hot sauce in about 20 seconds. Aforementioned falafel Nazi seemed angry with my sandwich. We walked about a block away and sat down in front of a shuttered store front and dug in. I don’t know how to describe it except to say that, when a piece of falafel fell out of my sandwich, rolled to the street, and a few pigeons attacked it, it truly felt like a part of my soul had been torn away from me. But I got over it and kept eating, and there were more falafels inside the sandwich. A lot of falafels, in fact. I worried that I might run out and be stuck with a mass of cabbage and tzatziki, but no! This was no poorly constructed sandwich! There were falafels abound until the very end, and where the falafels and tzatziki ended, a lovely morsel of hummus awaited. The best thing about this sandwich, I think, is everything was thought out. Every ingredient was perfect, and worked perfectly with every other component. The cabbage provided crunch, the falafels provided a nice meatiness, and the eggplant provided a foundation. I don’t even like eggplant but I ate it the fuck up and it was awesome.

L’As Du Fallafel | 34 rue des Rosiers, 4th Arr., Paris FR | 01 48 87 63 60

I know that I consistently spell Falafel with one L but L’As has two in their name. Google and Wikipedia agree that it should be spelled with one L, but if you really think you know better than me, you should be spelling it فلافل‎.

L’As does not have a website. Go there and get the Falafel.

housekeeping, Unparalleled

Unparalleled

I’ve been developing a sort of obsession with finding the best things. Inspired in part by an article by Dustin Curtis, and by a desire to have the best experiences possible whether traveling or at home (which I think is something everyone should strive for), I’ve decided to add a new feature to my blog: Unparalleled. (Because I’m a designer and I like fancy names for things.) These Unparalleled sandwiches are the best in their class. They represent what a burger should be or, in the case of the sandwich that inspired me to start this, what a falafel should be. They are worth traveling and waiting for. The whole time you’re eating it, you will think, “This is a fucking amazing sandwich.”

I don’t believe there’s one “best” sandwich in the world, simply because of the nature of a sandwich, because anything imaginable can go between two pieces of bread, but I hope that these sandwiches will represent, at the very least, the best in their class. For instance, reviews I plan to write include the BLT at Flour, which I firmly believe to be the best BLT in Boston, though it’s distinctly possible New York has a best BLT, and I would not be opposed to be writing about that, and including it in the Unparalleled posts, because, while I say these sandwiches are worth traveling to, there’s certainly a limit as to how far one would go for a sandwich. I think I personally draw that limit somewhere south of a four hour train ride.

Atlanta

Koobideh Sandwich at Rumi’s

I’m about 115% certain I pronounced the “Koobideh” wrong when I ordered it.

My dad insists on driving out half an hour to East Cobb to visit the same doctor I’ve been going to since I was born whenever I’m home, for my yearly checkup. East Cobb isn’t really known for its restaurant scene (I do love me some Chick Fil A, though) but Ben discovered Rumi, a Persian restaurant that got pretty decent reviews.

I wasn’t sure what to expect from a Persian sandwich, although looking back, a gyro-esque concoction should’ve seemed obvious. I got the Koobideh, consisting of:

seasoned ground beef, house relish, seasonal greens.

It wasn’t dissimilar to a shish kebab gyro. The meat was incredibly tasty—well seasoned and well cooked. The sandwich had a yogurt-based sauce on it which dripped out the back. I suppose keeping the sandwich in the paper it was served in could’ve prevented this, but I let the sandwich drip over the salad, and there was certainly enough lubrication still in the sandwich to pull the ingredients together, and make sure it didn’t feel dry. The relish wasn’t what what we (read: white people) might consider relish, but rather mid-sized chunks of veggies. They gave the sandwich a really interesting mouthfeel, providing a definite crunch, but not the same kind of crunch a single piece of iceberg lettuce would’ve provided. Instead, there were lots of smaller crunchies, which made for a really interesting texture indeed.

I regret to admit that this is the first sandwich in recent memory I was unable to finish. It’s probably my fault for overloading on appetizers (though it was a bit on the heavy side), but I can assure you if someone were to present me with another Koobideh sandwich right now, I’d eat the fuck out of it, and I’d definitely have it again.

Rumi’s Kitchen | 6112 Roswell Rd NE, Atlanta, GA | (404) 477-2100 | Yelp

Warning: website will begin blasting Persian music the second you click on it, and there’s no obvious way to shut it up. 9/10 for the sandwich, 2/10 for obnoxious website.

Boston

Cheeseburger at Tasty Burger

Say “what” again.

There was something deeply satisfying about this particular journey to Tasty Burger. Maybe it was the fact that I’d been craving a burger for almost a week, but consider the fact that the particular burger I was craving was in fact a Shake Shack burger (I almost went as far to recreate the burger from Serious Eats’ recipe), I think it’s safe to say that this burger really hit the spot.

Much like Shake Shack, Tasty Burger doesn’t do overly fancy burgers, they charge a very fair price, and put out a damn delicious product. I asked for a cheeseburger with onions and pickles—in effect, “The Big Tasty,” but without their Tasty Sauce. I’m not a fan of it. It tastes too much like ketchup, which I absolutely despise. I posit that there’s absolutely no place for ketchup in the culinary world; it distracts from a good piece of meat, so its only purpose is to cover up a bad cut of meat, and nobody should eat bad meat. But back to my cheeseburger(s—yes, I ordered two. Yes, I hate myself for it). I really don’t know how much there is to say about cheeseburgers. They were really good. Juicy, flavorful, with the right amount of crunch from the veggies and melty-ness from the cheese. I think I’d rate Tasty Burger as my second favorite burger I’ve had in Boston, next to Shake Shack. The fact that their restaurants are Pulp Fiction themed—a pop art style Jules Winfield graces their walls, their menu offers a Kahuna burger I’ve never had, and they’re called Tasty Burger, as in “This is a tasty burger!”—certainly doesn’t hurt either. The only thing Tasty Burger is missing is Shack Sauce; hence why Shake Shack will always and forever be my #1. Until, perhaps, I finally try Atlanta’s famed H&F burger—one of my foodie goals on my trip home.

I realize this review is drifting further and further from the meat of the sandwich, something I promised myself I’d try to avoid on this blog, so I leave you with a glowing recommendation for Tasty Burger and an absolutely packed tummy.

Tasty Burger | 1301 Boylston Street, Boston, MA | (617) 425-4444 | Yelp

Boston

Original beef sandwich at Charcarero

So close to being really good.

Today was a day full of disappointments. Well. Let me explain to be a little bit less melodramatic. A friend and I were going to go on a duck tour (I’ve been in Boston for two years and never done one). Apparently, these tours are inexplicably popular, so we couldn’t go on one today. So we deferred the duck tour to tomorrow, and instead went to lunch at the Prudential Center food court. I try to avoid mall food courts unless Emily is doing something more awful, but the Prudential food court actually has some decent stuff. I’d read about a Chilean sandwich place somewhere that had a pretty successful thing going downtown, and had expanded to the Pru. Said friend lived in Chile, so it seemed like a good idea to make up for the lack of duck tour with sandwiches.

Charcarero explains their sandwiches thusly (edited for grammar):

ACharcarero is a traditional Chilean sandwich. It begins with homemade bread that we make fresh daily. The main ingredient is either tender grilled steak or chicken (or both). Then with your main ingredient, we add steamed green beans, which gives it that authentic Chilean touch, munster cheese and fresh tomatoes. After that, we add an avocado spread, salt, pepper, and our secret hot recipe to complete the sandwich.

This sounded really good. It was okay.

First, the good: the flavors were fantastic. I can’t speak as to whether or not they were authentically Chilean as I’ve never been to Chile (side note: my friend said she’d never had anything like this in Chile, for whatever that’s worth). They were, however, delightfully spicy and everything went together really nicely, even the green beans, which I was skeptical of on a sandwich.

Unfortunately, the bread did not taste fresh, the meat was on the dry side, the cheese wasn’t melted, and the whole sandwich was room temperature. I think I went in expecting something more in line with a torta (it was, to be fair, still very similar to a torta). Now I’m not saying every sandwich should be grilled or toasted, because it’s not my place to force roles on a sandwich like that, but this sandwich would’ve been objectively better had it been warmed up, and were the meat just the slightest bit fresher.

I don’t want to give up this sandwich just yet, because it had the potential to be really good, and I’ve also yet to find a great torta place in Boston. I think I might go back sometime to their original Downtown Crossing location, and perhaps not during the middle of lunch rush, when they have a bit more time to dedicate the loving care to the preparation that this sandwich deserves. I’d also be curious to try the barbecue. I’m not sure what the difference is—I would’ve asked, but they were pretty busy, and I’m socially awkward.

Charcarero | 800 Boylston Street (Prudential Center Food Court) | Yelp

Boston

The Coppa and the Fried Shrimp Po’Boy at Parish

The Coppa at Parish, Boston

I really like the premise of Parish. Chefs from around Boston create sandwiches, Parish prepares and serves them. It’s a favorite on “Where chefs eat” and “Where bartenders drink” lists, and with good reason. Parish makes quality sandwiches at pretty respectable prices.

Emily, my girlfriend and sandwich-eating-partner-in-crime, ordered a Shrimp Po’Boy (one of my favorite sandwich concepts), and I had The Coppa:

A slow roasted pork belly sandwich on a sesame seeded bun topped with melted American cheese, Hellman’s mayonnaise, caramelized serrano peppers and onions, and raw jalapeño peppers.

Pork belly is an absolutely fantastic cut of meat. It’s tender and fatty and delicious, and isn’t quite as overwhelmingly “porky” as some other cuts. I think it was an excellent choice as a meat base for a sandwich, though Emily disagreed. I’m pretty positive she just doesn’t like pork belly, however, because I can certainly vouch for the quality in both this particular pork belly and the preparation thereof. The jalapeños added a lovely kick and crunch, and almost reminded me of a bánh mì in a way. The caramelized peppers and onions, while noticeable, were more subtle and complimented the pork belly quite nicely. This sandwich is totally rich, but in a melt in your mouth sort of way.

The sides that complement a sandwich are often almost as important as the sandwich itself, and while I’m usually not partial to potato salad as a side (it almost always comes off as an afterthought at best, or a plate-filler at worst), but Parish does a mean potato salad. They serve it with a few of their sandwiches, but it was the perfect accompaniment to The Coppa.

Shrimp Po’Boy at Parish Boston

Emily liked her po’boy better, but I didn’t. A po’boy is a simple sandwich, and as such should strive to achieve a perfect ratio of shrimp to lettuce and tomatoes to remoulade to, obviously, bread. I felt the po’boy was breadier more than anything else, followed in turn by the shrimp and a disappointing, and finally almost nonexistent vegetables. Potato chips as a side are fine, but serving Cape Cod potato chips in Massachusetts is one of those things that seems clever the first time you see it on a menu, and then you realize every sandwich shop in the Bay State is doing it. I’d be willing to believe this particular po’boy was just a fluke, but I won’t be having it again, because I can make a better one myself and I want to try other sandwiches at Parish. Their menu changes slightly from month to month, and there’s always something new and exciting.

Parish | 361 Boylston St, Boston, MA | (617) 247-4777 | Yelp

housekeeping

Let’s establish what a sandwich is.

For the purposes of this blog, a sandwich shall consist of any number of ingredients, so long as they are delivered via bread (or a bread-like substance, eg. a tortilla) as the medium. Here are some things that are sandwiches:

Burritos, Tacos, and Tostadas
Gyros
Hot dogs (though I’ve yet to eat a hot dog worth blogging about)
Hamburgers

As well as the obvious banh mis, paninis, grilled cheeses, etcetera. Additional qualifications are that one must be able to consume it using your hands. Messiness is allowed, but one must be able to pick it up. There’s a bakery in Atlanta that does a fantastic open-faced breakfast BLT, but it’s impossible to pick up, and as such will not be considered on this blog. A New York style corned beef sandwich, while messy, is still obviously a sandwich.

My motives for starting this blog are simple: I love sandwiches. This blog is to serve first and foremost as a diary of the remarkable sandwiches I eat, but should it garner public interest, all the better!

Thank you for your time, and welcome to Sandwiches.

Sandwiches

I eat and write about them.

Author Archives: jake

Falafel sandwich at L’As Du Fallafel

Unparalleled

Koobideh Sandwich at Rumi’s

Cheeseburger at Tasty Burger

Original beef sandwich at Charcarero

The Coppa and the Fried Shrimp Po’Boy at Parish

Let’s establish what a sandwich is.