The club house speculation starts

It was a cold and frosty weekend, and inadvertently house sitting for some old friends just off Broadway in the 'toon, I could only go as far as I could walk, having also hitched a ride in from a friend (traveling on a dime!). Having already ventured to Nino's and Sushiro, I returned to the Broadway Cafe, where I had ventured once last summer, and ate a messy slop of a sandwich.

Taking a back seat by the chrome bar, I had thoughts swimming around in my head over a conversation held the previous night. Sitting in the Star Trek inspired lounge of The Cave bar and restaurant, my friend and I witnessed a man nearby devour a club house sandwich. Being at The Cave and all, we thought perhaps it was the environment that caused a time warp back to the days of people ordering club house sandwiches. Who orders a club house sandwich still? They are a classic staple of sandwich menus, but seemingly of yesteryears. Those little sandwich wedges of toasted bread that always hurt the top of your mouth (also known as roof burn), feels a thing left in the past.

I ordered the club with a side of poutine, and it's exactly as I recall, roof burn and all. Chicken, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and mayo toppled between three slices of bread, cut four ways, with toothpicks and all. I was hungry as hell and cold to the bone, so I didn't leave much evidence that I didn't enjoy it, but I don't know if it's something I ever crave.

Comments

Monty’s Bakehouse wrap, Air Canada

I’d rate this wrap as strange. Its packaging created expectations of a more appetizing experience, which it was not. After a vastly superior egg salad sandwich from London Heathrow, I could not greet this airplane freebie with serious interest, but at least it was hot, and at least I could review it for this blog. Steaming contents were oozy and largely undistinguishable, but suggested some kind of red pepper or sundried tomato origins.

Specialty Sandwich, Amtrak train dining car

Advertised as the "Specialty Sandwich" on board the Oakland to Los Angeles Amtrak train, this $9.75 grilled cheese seems a safe vegetarian bet, just as a bagel and cream cheese does when faced with weird processed meat choices aboard the VIA Rail in Canada. The specialty allegedly features gruyere and smoked cheddar, however each cheese was tasteless, plastic, and greasy, cooling to reveal six slices of highly processed cheese product. The crisp, somewhat grainy bread absorbed cheese sweat from inside, completely obliterating any relief that the mustard or tomato could have provided, and was thoroughly saturated in a meaty residue from the grill on the outside. This sandwich leaves the kind of mouthfeel that a glass of water cannot wash away. Note: pack toothbrush in carry-on.

Kim Anh Subs, Calgary

It's no secret I'm a fan of the Vietnamese sub. Hell, they've prevented my vegetarianism . But I do enjoy the vegetarian option now and again, especially when it's warm marinated soft tofu rather than the shredded fake meat variety. In Calgary one weekend, a friend and I found ourselves stranded in the city due to a snow storm, so lounging around 17th Avenue, cold, tired, hungry, and near broke, we popped our heads into Kim Anh Subs where he had ventured once before. Offering a whole wheat sub bun option, Kim Anh's subs were a bit more expensive than what I'm used to for a sub of this style ($3.50 is my price range), but it's Calgary, so what can you expect.

You Say Sandwich, We Say Yeah!

Search This Blog