The Lost Art of the Sandwich

There was a time not too long ago when New Yorkers took pride in their sandwiches and the New York deli sandwich was revered as an artful creation unable to be replicated outside of the five boroughs. Sadly, there are too few places in the city these days that respect the fundamental tenets of superior sandwich making: great bread, fresh delicious ingredients, the perfect complementary condiments, attention to structural integrity and last but most importantly, love. Walk into your average deli today and the sandwich you conceived in your mind on the walk over and imagined eating with a smile and finishing with a sense of great satisfaction as you crumple the white paper it was purposefully wrapped in will likely be a huge disappointment with a nearly stale roll, overcooked roast beef, shredded crunchless lettuce and a topping of apathy that makes the whole experience seem like a shameful lunchtime stand.

Not only has New York slipped from sandwich greatness, it has not kept up with developments in the sandwich world. It is hard to find an innovative and well prepared sandwich in New York but oddly cities like Boston and San Francisco, which I have always considered distant competitors to New York food-wise, are rife with them. Take for instance the sandwich I had last weekend at one of my favorite little places in Harvard Square. A take on a Cuban this sandwich featured herb-marinated chicken as the main event protein and “special sauce” in lieu of yellow mustard but was both thoughtfully conceived and beautifully executed on delicious bread which was grilled to perfection and held the sandwich together until the last wonderful bite. My dining companion ordered a tuna melt but this was no ordinary tuna melt; the tuna salad itself was made with the intention that it be delicious on its own before meeting small diced red onions and subtle pieces of pickle beneath a blanket of sublimely melted swiss cheese. Such sandwich artistry has gone the way of watchable professional basketball in New York.

And every cookie cutter corporate-looking sandwich shop in New York has a glass case full of stepford pre-prepared sandwiches seemingly sourced from the same uninspired central kitchen. Knowing that you can get an identical Copenhagen panini anywhere in the city to me is not comfort, however, its sad. When this trend began I argued New Yorkers won't go for this prefab souless sandwich; New Yorkers are discerning and although frequently in a hurry they will wait for a freshly made sandwich by someone who takes pride in his craft, leave Pret a Manger in London where such fare is actually an improvement on alternative options. Not only was I wrong but we even have thriving locations of Pret a Manger here in the Big Apple.

So what to do? I encourage New Yorkers to hearken back to the days of sandwich greatness. Remember what it was like to walk into your favorite deli and have the sandwich maker recall your usual. Remember trying its gourmet cousin, maybe prosciutto drizzled with extra virgin olive oil and topped with crumbles of parmesan cheese and sliced cornichons. Its time to take back the sandwich, New York. And maybe if we’re lucky the New York sandwich renaissance will bring with it the resurrection of the Knicks.