It's true that you can lose a lot of weight by eliminating starches from your diet. It's worked for me very nicely a few times, but in the end I always flunk. Inevitably I give my heart to a sandwich.

All sandwiches have their place, from the homey bologna-and-cheese on white bread to the concoction I bought from a street vendor in a Milan arcade one bitterly cold afternoon, mozzarella and brie with cooked spinach, melted between slices of salt-sprinkled focaccia. I love the ennobling relationship between meat and cheese, I love mustard so hot it takes the enamel off your teeth, I absolutely love mayonnaise, which seems to put me in a small minority of people (those who will admit it). I am mad keen for sandwiches.

There is a special place in my promiscuous heart for subs (which, when I was in college in Vermont, we called "grinders"). They're like the landfill of sandwiches: a dumping ground for anything and everything, mysteriously tied together with pepperoncini and pickles and salt and pepper, and frequently they taste wonderful. This is why, when I'm asked to review films at the Grand Illusion, I first have to snap out of my Pavlovian coma, and then I leave the office an hour early-- because right below the theater, in a storefront as low on atmosphere as it is rich in cholesterol, is S.U.B.S.

You can get the basics at S.U.B.S., but that's not the point. The reason to go is a slate of sandwiches built of lovely Italian meats: copacolla, prosciuttini (a peppery cured ham), pepperoni, different kinds of salami, and mortadella--like bologna, but delicately spiced. They'll offer you French bread or honey wheat, and I recommend French--the honey wheat is far too strong and sweet for the subtlety of the meats. (It is fine, however, for a sandwich of small, dense, tangy meatballs served warm with melted provolone.) I also skip the dried oregano, which is not unlike eating a sprinkling of small woodchips.

Oregano aside, these sandwiches make me perfectly happy. It's the combination of salty and sour foods that activates all your savory taste buds, the kind of thing that makes you drool. I am not above drooling for a sandwich. It's happened before.

S.U.B.S. Sandwiches
4754 University Way NE (new location at 1919 1/2 Fifth Ave). Mon-Sat 11 am-9 pm, Sun noon--8 pm; prices range from $4-$20, depending on size (half, medium, large, "giant two-foot") and extras.