Humans Love Sandwiches

About five years ago, when all this internet 2.0 stuff caught on,
one thing became abundantly clear: Everyone hates everyone else. If
you’ve ever read a comments string on a blog that isn’t about cats, you
can probably clearly recall the vitriol that anonymous commenting can
inspire. Likewise, if you’ve ever read a product recommendation
argument on Amazon.com, you understand
that the one thing that human beings know is that the other guy is dead
fucking wrong, and we’ll call them as many nasty names as we can muster
until they admit it. In fact, there are only two things that I’ve seen
the entire internet come together in agreement on. The first is that
even diehard fans of his films can admit that Michael Moore is kind of
a douche, and the second is that sandwiches are pretty goddamned
fantastic, and maybe the greatest invention in the history of the
world.

The sandwich restaurant reviews on The Stranger‘s
Restaurant Guide are almost entirely glowing, with three places in
particular getting mostly five-star reviews. I set out to see if this
hype was justified, or if the internet sandwich blind spot had extended
to even The Stranger‘s independent and hard-to-please
readership.

Take, for instance, Writer22’s effusive review of Smarty
Pants (6017 Airport Way S, 762-4777), wherein s/he says that
“this happenin’ little joint has THE BEST SANDWICHES in town. Period.”
As many other reviews point out, Smarty Pants’ Troublemaker sandwich
($8.25), a chicken and bacon monstrosity covered with fried onions and
the house’s special Troublemaker Sauce (think McDonald’s special sauce,
but with real mayo and a spicy chipotle kick), is a pretty phenomenal
thing both to witness and to eat. The brunch version of this, the
Troublemaker Pile-Up ($7.95), which adds scrambled eggs to the mess, is
even better.

In fact, it’s as a brunch restaurant that Smarty Pants really
shines, especially if you can finagle a seat on the back porch. The
Hustler ($7.95), a roll topped with fried ham, poached eggs, and a
thick, creamy hollan-daise sauce, is a Sunday-morning hangover’s best
friend, even if the eggs turned out more hard-boiled than poached. But
the rolls aren’t house-made, or even particularly great bread, so
forgive me if I tone down the excitement offered up by
ButtermilkBiscuits when s/he says that “the B.E.L.T. changed my
life”—a life changed by a $8.25 bacon, egg, lettuce, and tomato
sandwich is probably a fickle one to begin with—and instead say
that Smarty Pants is merely an excellent, divey restaurant and
an outstanding brunch place.

Baguette Box (626 N 34th St, 632-1511; 1203 Pine
St, 332-0220) inspires weird poetry from its online fans: Nix dee
writes, “Soft yet crispy baguette, fresh greens, cilantro, wow! Don’t
miss it.” And JohnOnTheHill volunteers, “Add to this a side of cold
sliced beets sprinkled with feta cheese and walnut oil AND French fries
with truffle oil and sea salt and OH MY WORD!!” I have to say, those
truffle fries ($4.80) threaten to bring out the E. E. Cummings in me:
It’s hard to conceptualize more addictive, delicious French fries.
They’re light and rich at the same time; something that every
Seattleite should try at least once.

Baguette Box has a bit of a sauce problem, though: The roast leg of
lamb with cucumber yogurt ($7.50) didn’t have nearly enough tzatziki
sauce to counter the dryness of the lamb, and the braised pork shoulder
with red wine ($6.25) had a little too much sauce, which made the
crispy baguette turn gooey. As all the reviews suggest, though, it’s
impossible to go wrong with the crispy drunken chicken ($6.50), a
baguette with cilantro and sweet-and-sour battered orange chicken. And
the green-bean salad with Danish blue cheese ($4) is the freshest, most
vibrant salad I’ve eaten all summer; it tastes alive, the way a good
farmer’s market smells.

All the reviews for Paseo (4225 Fremont Ave N,
545-7440) are giddy lovefests; reviewers claim that the stand is “my
favorite sandwich spot in the city” (OffConstantly) and “the messiest
sandwiches I’ve eaten, but worth every bite” (lana) and demand that “if
you have never been, make plans to go in the next seven days. Go!!!
NOW!!!” (Porky conundrum).

The problem with the reviews for Paseo is that they’re not
hyperbolic enough. The sautéed prawns sandwich ($6.75) is a
goopy delight, doused in Paseo’s homemade mayonnaise, and the Midnight
Cuban Press ($7.50), a roast pork sandwich covered with cheese and
sliced ham, is worth the extra wait. The sides, too, like the corn on
the cob that accompanies each sandwich and the somehow-meaty vegetarian
black beans that come with every entrée, are the kind of food
that make you wonder how something so simple can taste so friggin’
good. The corn dissolves on the tongue as though it were soaked in
butter, and the beans couldn’t taste as good as they do without hours
of attentive simmering.

But the best thing about Paseo is the grilled pork sandwich ($6.75),
number one on the menu and in reviewer’s hearts. It’s a tangy, basted
slab of pork slathered in their delicious caramelized onions. It’s like
crack; I couldn’t imagine a side dish good enough to match the grilled
pork sandwich, unless that side dish was another pork sandwich, and I
immediately wanted a grilled pork sandwich for dessert. This is a
sandwich so perfectly good that it could bring the internet to its
knees with its deliciousness. No hyperbole necessary.