Between the Bread

Swallow your sandwich and breathe a sigh of relief: Ike's Place has made it through the first round of its legal hurdles. I haven't been reporting every new development in this increasingly complicated case, in which the landlord is demanding $1 million and threatening to evict the stellar sandwich shop because its booming business creates huge crowds. But I am glad to report that today, summary judgment concluded in favor of Ike's.

That means the possibility of an eviction with just three days' notice is off the table. According to SFoodie, "Ike's landlord will have to decide whether he wants to take the case to trial, or engage in some kind of settlement." I, for one, hope this is the last we hear about it, for the sake of Ike's and sandwiches everywhere.

The lines at Ike's Place are long, but my list of complaints is short: besides the lines, I have none. Apparently, not everyone is so happy. Two of the blockbuster sammie stand's neighbors and the building landlord are demanding something like $1 million in compensation, saying the famous crowds are disrupting their domestic peace.

According to owner Ike Shehadeh, the settlement offer stipulates that if Ike's Place wants to stay in its current location, it needs to pay $800,000 for the neighbors to leave. Or, the restaurant can move and still pay $200K for the neighbors' troubles.

Really, people? This is how we want to treat our successful local small-business owners? Come on. Ike's isn't a nightclub. Its crowds don't start fights, billow clouds of smoke into windows, make lots of noise . . . I've never even seen anyone sitting on a neighboring stoop to eat a sandwich. The sandwich lovers clustering around Ike's are no more rowdy than the genteel Zazie brunch bustle in Cole Valley.

The most ridiculous part is, Ike could not be a nicer guy, and his sandwiches could put anyone in a good mood. Also, he points out, the store's gross receipts last year totaled just over $800K. Why try to milk him for all he's worth? I'll tell you one thing: no one is naming a sandwich after these a-holes.

I've sort of given up on trying to eat at Ike's Place, even though it makes some of the finest sandwiches in the city. The lines are just insanely long, even in what used to be off hours, and I am pretty impatient when it comes to waiting in line for food. Thanks in part to Yelp, it's too popular for its own good, which makes me sad.

Apparently, Ike's neighbors aren't happy either, and even the New York Times knows about it. A writeup in Friday's paper addresses the effect of crazy queues at Ike's and Bi-Rite on the surrounding residents. If you're wondering why this topic is worthy of a NYT story, well, I'm with you. But let's take a moment to discuss anyway. According to the article:

With up to 1,200 customers on sunny weekend days, Ike’s has faced a backlash from neighbors. The once-quiet block on 16th Street is fed up with patrons who wait up to two hours for their chance to taste what they believe is nirvana between two slices of bread. In response to complaints, Ike’s reduced its hours starting this month — it closes at 7 p.m.

"The only time we’re not busy is when we’re not open," said Ike Shehadeh, the owner.

Ain't that the truth. And forget finding a table once you've ordered your sandwich. Apparently, on one recent Saturday, the sidewalk was so clogged it was impossible to walk by, and customers were taking their grub to neighboring stoops.

I'm so glad for Ike's success, and dude totally deserves it. But when it comes to long lines for restaurant, I reach a point of diminishing returns after about an hour, or usually less. What about you?

• The Juicy Lucy, reinterpreted as a vegetarian feast — (Never Home) Maker
• Could Ike's be eying vending machines? — Breadxbread
• Remembering a grandfather through his sandwich — The Atlantic
• Get the lamb meatballs at The Sentinel — SFoodie
• Beyond the pastrami at Katz's Deli — Serious Eats
• Portobello mushroom becomes burger bun — Insanewiches

I get a little nervous every time I see an article about Ike's Place. Because while I wish Ike the greatest success in his most wonderful of sandwich shops, I hope it doesn't come so fast that it's totally overwhelming. But so far, so good.

If you're a fan of Ike's (and who isn't?), you'll appreciate this piece in The Packer, a publication about the produce industry. (Ike's mother, Huda, was a veteran of Ready Pac Foods before getting in the sandwich game.)

The story zeroes in on one of the most remarkable qualities of Ike's: despite a complete lack of customer amenities, it sells more than 1,000 sandwiches a week and goes through "about 100 pounds of lettuce a day and about 80 pounds of tomatoes." Clearly, the recession is a good time to open a sandwich shop, and Ike is eyeing a third location on the Stanford campus in 2010.

Meanwhile, on a less wholesome but equally informative beat, SFoodie pays tribute to Ike's 40-Year-Old Virgin sandwich as the ultimate hangover cure, complete with chicken-fried steak, marinara, ranch, and mozzarella sticks. I'll drink to that.

• Ladies and gentleman, a guide to hamburger styles — A Hamburger Today
• Shorty's offers a taste of Philly in NYC — Simply Sandwiches
• A fun video about Ike's Place — Grub Grade
• The Famous 4th Street Delicatessen doesn't skimp — Unbreaded
• The results of the BLT from scratch challenge — Michael Ruhlman
• Gettin' carnivorous on a tofu sandwich — Skinny Girls Big Sandwiches

Another day, another post praising Ike's. What can I say? I love this place. Recently, I introduced my dad and stepmom to the deliciousness, when Dee said she had a Reuben craving. Ike's twist on the classic corned beef and swiss sandwich swaps out the usual sauerkraut for poppyseed coleslaw and, of course, serves the sandwich on a French roll rather than grilled rye.

It's certainly prettier than a regular Reuben and deliciously different. Another Ike's variation worth trying is the Cowboy Curtis, which continues the Pee-Wee Herman theme but adds barbecue sauce and replaces the swiss with smoked gouda.

I have sampled many sandwiches at Ike's Place — most recently the Sometimes I'm a Vegetarian (mushrooms, marinated artichokes, pesto, and swiss — yum!) and the MILF (chicken, ranch, Frank's Red Hot sauce, and jalapeño poppers!). But my no-fail favorite is the We're Just Friends.

This comparatively simple sandwich succeeds mostly because of the succulent, orange-glazed shredded chicken, its sweetness situated next to pepperjack cheese and just-right avocado. I get it with everything, which includes lettuce, tomato, pickles, onions, banana peppers, and Ike's famous "dirty sauce." See some more photos, and find out how We're Just Friends got its name.