Between the Bread

If you had told me in high school that some days I'd relish sitting in the sun, eating a wrap filled with nothing but grilled vegetables, I would have looked at you quizzically and returned to my Velveeta Shells & Cheese. I ate vegetables out of obligation, but it wasn't until moving to San Francisco that I realized vegetables could be utterly delicious.

I recently ventured to the aptly named Herbivore, which seemed a good place for someone craving a sandwich but also veggies. The simple char-grilled vegetable wrap with creamy pesto spread hit the spot. The wrap actually had flavor, which isn't always a guarantee, and the grilling brought out a bounty of tastes in the ultra-fresg broccoli, mushrooms, peppers, and more. I'm a bit hesitant to call a wrap a sandwich, but I still think it qualifies; do you?

Loyal reader Angelica recently sampled a new veggie sandwich at Specialty's and was so overwhelmed by its sheer girth, she had to snap a photo. Her comment: are they trying to kill me?! Apparently so, with cucumber.

But seriously, this looks like a hearty and healthy two-hander, and it's even more colorful than the chain's turkey with cranberry. It could certainly give the veginator a run for its money. Got your own sandwich to share? Email your photos to nancy@betweenthebreadblog.com, along with a description of what's on your sandwich.

In what might be called the veginator option, Working Girls lets you choose four different vegetarian toppings on any bread. I opted for sprouts, cucumber, roasted red pepper, and avocado, then realized it was lamely similar to the sandwich I eat every day. Plus, this one wasn't as well assembled as mine. But isn't it lovely to look at?

I'm no vegetarian, but I cringe at ads for the Baconator, Wendy's double-decker bacon cheeseburger. So I have to respect this video parody for the Veginator, complete with raunchy narration about its "whole wheat bun topped with vegannaise, baby spinach leaves . . . and local walla walla onions, caramelized in Spanish extra virgin olive oil."

My friend Kate and I have a sort of unofficial avocado exchange program at work. If one of us has extra avocado, we take it off each other's hands. I was especially excited the other day when Kate offered me an avocado about to go bad, since avocado equals instant sandwich excitement.

Also, that day, I had no turkey for my daily turkey sandwich. No turkey in residence at the sandwich condo! I did, however, have heirloom tomato, swiss cheese, cucumber, romaine lettuce, fresh basil, and sprouts. Along with the avocado, it was a decadent vegetarian delight.

At the corner of Haight and Fillmore Streets in San Francisco sits a tiny grass-green sandwich shop called Estela's. The diminuitive family-owned deli and juice bar has no schtick and no real specialty, yet it remains one of my favorite sandwich stops in the city.

It proves that sometimes, a simple, well-executed sandwich made with fresh, flavor-packed ingredients can be more satisfying than any high concept or overindulgent competition. Estela's ingredients are mostly familiar: better-than-average deli meats and cheeses, ripe tomatoes and avocado, plain ol' red leaf lettuce, and thin-sliced red onions. But a few unexpected fixings, including artichoke spread and cranberry mustard, on exceedingly freshed sliced bread and telera rolls set these sammies apart. Check out some of my favorite menu items.