After seeing how I yearned for a beef on weck, my Buffalonian buddy Josh made a special trip to Charlie the Butcher, his weck destination of choice, located "on an awkward corner adjacent to the Buffalo Niagara airport." Not only did he take a bunch of photos ("Everybody thought I was crazy snapping photos every 5 seconds," he says) but he also sent in a wonderfully written account of his 'wich trip.

If you want to be as awesome as Josh, share your own sandwich by emailing your photos to nancy@betweenthebreadblog.com, along with a description of what's on your sandwich. Meanwhile, check out Josh's trip to Charlie the Butcher below!

Bakesale Betty's famous fried chicken sandwich didn't make it onto 7x7's Big Eat list, but it has been on mine for a while, and I'm not alone. The sandwich has a cult following that reaches far beyond Oakland; LA chef Vinny Dotolo gets one every time he's up north. This weekend I finally got to meet Betty — er, her sandwich — and it was a dream come true. Click through to take a 'wich trip.

San Francisco's A La Turca might be just another Tenderloin dive, if not for the sumptuous textiles, warm and homey vibe, and delicious homemade delicacies. Amid its extensive menu of Turkish cuisine is a pocket of sandwiches, familiar to anyone who's had falafel and other Middle Eastern fillings but still completely novel. Take a little trip to Turkey in the Tenderloin by clicking below.

Before our
trip to Dublin, I had my sights set on one sandwich: the Paddy Jack farmers lunch at the Temple Bar Saturday food market. We'd been salivating in anticipation ever since Andrew
read about it in the New York Times, and it didn't let us down. Click on the gallery below for all the delicious details.
On our post-backpacking pit stop at the Dry Creek General Store, which advertises "the best sandwiches you ever saw," I ordered the relatively manageable turkey with muhammara sauce. Andrew, however, got the more lumberjack-style Dry Creek Stacker.

As you can see, this serious Italian sandwich is stacked high with three meats — I think turkey, ham, and salami — plus cheese, pepperoncini, and some sort of aioli. It was a salty, toothsome tower, if impossible to finish in one sitting.
Get your jaws around some more photos.
Sep 25 - 1:35PM · Posted by
nancita
One thing I love about backpacking is that at the end of all the hard work, hiking, and powdered food, I reward myself with something indulgent. Luckily, after our Labor Day camping trip to Lake Sonoma, we found Dry Creek General Store.

Though a sign above the counter advertisers "the best sandwiches you ever saw," these weren't saw-necessitating hoagies. But Dry Creek's sandwiches were next-level delicious. Though I try to branch out from turkey as often as possible, this one, called the Appepo I think, sounded too good to pass up.
The ciabatta-type roll was slathered with muhammara sauce and stuffed with cucumber, feta, tomatoes, and smoked turkey. Andrew's sandwich was equally delicious and even more insane, so check back tomorrow to check it out. Meanwhile, see more photos of my yummy 'wich.
Philippe the Original is a gravy-laden relic of old Los Angeles and the home of one of America's oldest sandwiches: the French dip. According to LA lore, the dip was invented in 1918 by a French immigrant named Philippe Mathieu, though others give credit to the newly reopened P.E. Cole's. Either way, there's no denying that eating a French dip at Philippe's is a singular experience. Click on the photos to read the story.

For my first Italian beef experience, I headed to Al's Beef, in Chicago's Little italy. Al's claims to have invented the Italian beef sandwich, and no one really argues. Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that the original sandwich stand acted as a front for bookies — until the Italian beef business became even more lucrative than the gambling.
This classic Chicago sandwich sounds simple: thin sliced, seasoned beef, cooked in its own juices, then topped with hot giardiniera or sweet peppers. But the flavors are unbelievably complex. Al's cooks its meat in a blend of 19 seasonings that hints at everything from garlic to nutmeg to oregano. Take a virtual trip with the photos below.

In New York City, I'm told, banh mi are so 2008, perhaps because the New York Times discovered them? But San Francisco's two-block Vietnamese sandwich mecca, in Little Saigon, is still very much worth a trip. Particularly Saigon Sandwiches, which despite being profiled in Esquire and Yelped silly remains a reliably cheap and unbelievably delicious hole in the wall.

The $3 sandwiches come with a limited number of filling options; the chicken, pork, and pork meatball are too divine for me to ever order the tofu. My favorite is the chicken, pictured here. Check out the mouth-watering details and an indulgent number of pics.
I am allergic to peanuts, but that didn't stop me from stopping by Peanut Butter and Co. in New York's Greenwich Village. Even if I can't sample most of the sandwiches, I couldn't pass up visiting this emporium devoted entirely to creative peanut butter combinations.

The menu includes everything from basic PB&Js to Fluffernutters, peanut butter and Nutella, and the Elvis (PB, banana, honey, and, if you choose, bacon). The cafe also makes its own flavored peanut butters for even more interesting sandwiches: the Cinnamon Raisin Swirl sandwich (cinnamon-raisin PB with vanilla cream cheese and sliced apple) and the Heat Is On (spicy peanut butter with grilled chicken). Andrew, my proxy taster, ordered a special with maple peanut butter and bacon, while I opted for a tuna melt. The results lived up to the high concept.
Latest Comments