The Sand Man

A guest blog by, Beau Schwab

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As a recent college graduate I have found myself trying to broaden my horizons as a cook. However, I feel it is very hard to free my mind of the ties that constantly pull my thoughts back to the same old routine of what to cook tonight: chicken, beef or pasta?…Lame. I find it necessary at this time to reveal that I am a male, and because of this fact I am willing to admit my ability to be creative in the kitchen is probably shockingly less than that of a female. There are amazing male chefs throughout the world but in general it is safe to assume that the average male is far less nimble in the kitchen.

Being the male that I am, my lack of creativity with food brings me to discuss a staple in my diet: the sandwich. The sandwich is an important division of a man’s diet. Let’s face it, breakfast sandwiches, lunch subs, dinner paninis (fancy name for a man toasting his BLT), and the late night snack between two pieces of Wonder Bread are important to our survival. The sandwich can make or break a day to the point where a dismal sandwich could go as far as ruining moods, productivity levels, and even future appetites.

Due to the importance of the sandwich and what it means to me in terms of value, nutrition, and state of mind, I am on a constant hunt for the next delicious tower of something between two wholesome slices of the heartland. My most recent kill occurred a few Mondays ago when I was out hunting in full camouflage with my Smith & Wesson…just kidding. Although I could have been mistaken for a wild savage in hot pursuit of his next meal if it had not been for my surrounding tribesmen and women outfitted with lungs of endless hot air and words of encouragement for all um-teen thousand runners who panted past us towards the heart of a city known as Boston. That’s right, in the midst of Marathon Monday, a day that is steeped in sports, cheering, and endless consumption of cocktails I stumbled upon one of my greatest sandwich finds to date: Eagles Deli Restaurant.

Three friends and I were looking for just about anything to eat when we opted to open the doors of Eagles. We walked into a packed restaurant full of college students, parents, youngsters, and old-timers all casually conversing in what seemed to be almost a diner-style setting. We made our way to the front counter and the ordering began: two burgers, a chicken sandwich, and a tuna melt, all sided with a heaping pile of freshly-cut, perfect rectangles of deep-fried potato (although at the time I thought I was ordering just a plain old side of French fries). The kind, half-rushed lady behind the counter handed us a tall, stainless-steel clip holding a plastic square, on it written in black was the number twenty-eight. We placed the clip on our table and patiently waited for our grub.

Moments later the food arrived and we dove in, seriously, if I could do a swan dive into this sandwich I would have. Also let it be known that because this is a blog for Belles Best Bites, I had a best bite of everything, not that I wouldn’t have anyway as long as everyone was willing to share. Jake and Joel ordered the specialty burgers known as the “Cowboy” and the “Ranch”. The “Cowboy”, avec perfectly grilled onions, was complemented by a mysterious, but delicious BBQ sauce. The “Ranch” was a true American.  Bearing the identities of America’s favorite dressing, Ranch, and Jim Gaffigan’s mode of time travel, bacon on top of bacon. These burgers may seem dashingly patriotic but nothing beats the “Eagles Challenge Burger”, which consists of 5lbs of burger, 20 pieces of bacon, 20 more pieces of American cheese, 5lbs of fries, one deli pickle, and last-but-not-least fountain soda for the right price of 55 dollars. Onto Fozz who ordered a chicken sandwich. Unfortunately the chicken sandwich was just a chicken sandwich, as it often turns out to be. The breast was delicious, but nothing really dashing to be said about its characteristics.

Onto my own meal, the Tuna Melt. The tuna itself was tossed with a healthy portion of mayo, which was O.K. given the diner setting and the burger joint feel. Traditionally when I make tuna I take great caution when adding the Hellmann’s, because too much leaves you with a sloppy mess. In the case of Eagles Deli though, you are bound to be left with some residual because they pack so much of it on to the sandwich. The bread was lightly buttered and toasted to perfection. All of this was greatly complemented by fresh lettuce, tomato, onion and spicy, brown mustard. What stood out about this extraordinary sandwich was how hot and fresh it was when it arrived in front of me, and so neatly stacked for such a sandwich—pure, excellent construction. Not much more to say other than this bad boy was a one-of-a-kind find. Whether you consider yourself a connoisseur of the sandwich world or you’re just in the mood for something delightfully simple and delicious, Eagles Deli Restaurant is a must.

 

This entry was posted in Restaurants, REVIEWS & CRITIQUES, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to The Sand Man

  1. val says:

    yaaaaa beau! whata natural

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>