Off the Map: Honey, Of Course We Have Polish Boys

Polish Boy -- Seti's Polish Boys, Cleveland, OH

Seti's Polish Boys

Many moons ago, when Vodka and Ginger were mere children (relatively) traipsing through the streets of Chicago, Ginger made an infamous call to Ann Sather to ask if they had cinnamon rolls -- a question that is essentially synonymous with calling your local McDonald's and asking if any Big Macs are available.

The Ohio Equivalent of the Quarter Pounder

Here in Cleveland, Vodka makes an equally dopey phone call to Seti's Polish Boys to inquire whether or not they are parked at their usual location on Lorain Street -- a location, it appears based on the tone of the proprietor, where they are ALWAYS parked. 

Oh, THERE You Are. Almost Lost You for a Second

When Vodka and Mezcal appear at their window minutes later, the small smirks on the workers' faces disclose that they have attributed us to the dolts who made the phone call. 

Feel Free to Judge Us, Seti's. We Would

Forging ahead, Vodka orders one Polish Boy sandwich, as chosen by Michael Symon and the BETWEEN BREAD episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate.

This Looks Like Our Kind of Place

Just In Case We Feared We Were at the Wrong Truck

When it is handed over, it is scalding hot, emitting a heat so ferocious that it is more reminiscent of a sandwich from the depths of a volcano than from the mild-mannered cooking surfaces of a food truck. 

Does Anyone Have a Fan?

Inside its tightly wrapped foil package, we find an obscenely large sausage sandwich, stacked to capacity with slaw, French fries, and barbecue sauce. Once we allow it to cool down enough to not burn the roofs of our mouths (this takes roughly twenty minutes), we find the sandwich to be almost disturbingly delicious. 

Who Needs a Pesky Thing Like a Side Dish Anyway?

While in theory, smothering our kielbasi with fries and BBQ sauce would not be our idea of a good time, the output is more than we could have hoped for, with each of the sandwich's elements perfectly complementing the others. The sausage has an ideal snap, the slaw a crispness, the French fries salt, and the sauce sweet, all while the roll molds perfectly around the conglomeration. 

There's Slaw Under There, We Promise

Indeed, while the sandwich is still quite messy, it's not nearly as bad as it could be, especially considering we're eating it on a random bench and it's roughly the temperature of Mount Saint Helen's, meaning we keep dropping it.

Sometimes Directly Onto Vodka's Boots

By the time we polish the whole thing off, Mezcal has deemed it even better than the biscuits and gravy from Lucky's Cafe, if only because it seems much more of a Cleveland-type dish than a Southern-like creation. 

SOS Napkins! SOS

As we walk away, the food truckers lean out their window to ask how we enjoyed our first Polish Boy experience, which we answer with various amounts of positive affirmations. 

Also Ten Points for a Menu Featuring Pictures

After all, anytime you can get Vodka to enjoy something that leads to sticky fingers, stained jeans, and a splotch of BBQ sauce on her boot, you know you have a winner, one which she would gladly eat again.

"Now Where Are You Parked?"

And truth be told, she would still call first.

Seti's Polish Boys's Polish Boy: 4 stars

Off the Map: The Godmother Sandwich -- An Offer We Can Refuse

Godmother Sandwich -- Bay Cities Italian Bakery and Deli, Los Angeles, CA

Bay Cities Italian Bakery and Deli

Now that we are in the Los Angeles version of "down the shore" in Santa Monica, we decide that we will look less conspicuous hauling ourselves across town with nothing but our own legs to carry us.  After all, everyone walks when they're at the beach, right?  Even Californians who don't seem to want to walk anywhere?

Wrong.

California: Thousands of Fruit Trees, But Not a Single Pedestrian

Halfway through our journey across town, we encounter our first four-lane crossing without the benefit of a stop light.  Unlike in New York, where we step off the curb with wild abandon the second we have the right of way (this practice is sure to get us killed some day), in LA, we tend to place one toe onto the street at a time, certain that we're about to get plowed down by a driver who isn't used to the likes of us.  We approach this first intersection just as tentatively, until we realize that Santa Monica drivers will stop -- instantly and swiftly -- at the mere sight of a pedestrian.

Such power, we have never known before.

This Is the Benefit of Being the LA Anomaly

Therefore, by the time we finally make it to Bay Cities Italian Bakery and Deli, we expect to be greeted in an equally royal fashion: for them to roll out the red carpet, hand us our desired godmother sandwich from the BETWEEN BREAD episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate, and send us on our way.

Needless to say, this is not what we experience.  

Where Did All of These People Suddenly Come From?!

Despite the relatively barren sidewalks of most of Santa Monica, Bay Cities is packed to the gills.  In fact, when we manage to force our way toward the deli counter to try to order a sandwich, the number we choose is 74... and they are currently only on 58.  

Yeah, We'd Like to Get Bread, But We're Still SIXTEEN NUMBERS AWAY!

It is at this point that Vodka has a sudden sneezing fit (clearly she's been hanging around Ginger and her hives too long), which results in other waiting customers insisting on saying "bless you" to her EVERY TIME.  Instead of being grateful for this, Vodka is more astonished than anything.  

And truth be told, slightly annoyed, being that she then has to keep saying "thank you."

Someone, Please Give Us the Sandwich So Vodka Can Stop Being Polite

By some blessed miracle, one of the Bay Cities workers suddenly places a basket of pre-made godmother sandwiches on the counter of the deli, which Ginger spots and scurries over to grab one.  It takes us another ten minutes to make our way through the cash register lines, and not since Katz's have we been to a more overwhelming deli establishment.

Maybe All of Those "Bless Yous" Paid Off

Assuming this sandwich must be pretty amazing to convince people to ford through all of this nonsense, we unwrap it at one of Bay Cities's outside tables and examine its contents.  

Scenic View. Or Not

And we immediately discover that much like the deli itself, there's a lot going on in this sandwich.  

One Positive: It's Split in Half

Namely at least four kinds of Italian lunch meat, cheese, roasted red peppers, lettuce, sauce, and a bevy of other ingredients we can't quite determine, all jammed between two slices of thick Italian bread.  

This Ain't Your Wawa Hoagie. And We Don't Mean That As a Compliment

One bite reveals that instead of the BETWEEN BREAD episode, Susan Feniger and Mary Sue Milliken should have chosen this for the MESSY one, as the contents of the sandwich are suddenly all over our table.

Well, This Is Appetizing

The bread itself seems awfully hard for holding the preponderance of ingredients, since its crustiness works against the insides, rather than cupping them together.  

For the First Time in Our Entire Lives, We'd Like Less Carbs

There also seems to be way too many roasted red peppers relative to the rest of the filling, only topped by the proliferation of mysterious sauce.  

Dear Fairy Godmother: Please Turn This Sandwich Into a Martini

Within a few bites, we have abandoned the sandwich entirely, grateful at the very least that we didn't have to spend over an hour waiting for it to be created.

You're Welcome, Bay Cities, For Us Creating Our Own Placemat

Immediately upon leaving the premises, Vodka drops her phone on the sidewalks of Santa Monica, resulting in a fully shattered screen -- the curse, perhaps, of disparaging the godmother sandwich.  Talk about keeping your friends close, and your enemy sandwiches closer.     

Bay Cities Italian Bakery and Deli's Godmother Sandwich: 2 stars

Off the Map: First of All, It's Not Yellow, and Second of All, It Doesn't Look Like a Submarine

Cheesesteak -- Yellow Submarine, Maple Shade, NJ
Yellow Submarine

Vodka has come to the realization that to an outsider, the Best Thing I Ever Ate choices from her home state would make one assume that all restaurants in South Jersey are dumps.

We Present Exhibit A

With no offense intended to the various Food Network-featured establishments, they almost all share a certain world-weary grunginess that a master real estate agent would refer to as "character."  From Carmen's Deli's once-white-but-now-beige stucco facade, to Ritz Seafood's narcoleptic employees; from The Jug Handle Inn's roosters to Panzarotti Pizza King's, well... it's in CAMDEN, South Jersey is not having a strong showing in terms of decor.

Party City Clearance Sale?

However, if one location has to take the prize on the "character" scale, it is the Yellow Submarine in Maple Shade, NJ.  Aaron McCargo, Jr. had chosen the place in a cheesesteak run-off with Carmen's Deli on the BETWEEN BREAD episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate, so Vodka calls ahead to place her pick-up order for one cheesesteak and a side of onion rings.

For the record, she appears to be Yellow Submarine's ONLY customer for the entire afternoon.

Cue the Crickets

When Vodka's chauffeur (her mother) approaches the Yellow Submarine parking lot, she is aghast.  "This can't be it, can it?" she asks with mild concern.  Unfortunately, the giant sign proclaiming "Yellow Submarine" perched on the roof of the gas station-shaped establishment confirms her fears.

Looking Remarkably Like an NYC Taxi Stand

A picnic table that appears as though it hasn't been used in decades sits outside of the building, and if it weren't for the proliferation of patriotic stars and stripes hanging on the front door and the various decals proclaiming the "Best in South Jersey Cheesesteak," one would almost certainly assume that the place were vacant.

Yellow Submarine: The Setting of the Next Goosebumps Book

Vodka wanders inside and finds nary a soul -- the booths are empty and the counter is bare.  Is this Maple Shade or the Twilight Zone?

Does No One Eat Cheesesteaks Anymore?!

Out of nowhere, she hears a voice call, "Someone's here!" and a not-entirely-pleasant-looking employee eventually meanders up to the front.  "Pick up?" she asks without affect.  Vodka nods, and in response, the girl dumps a heap of onion rings into the deep fryer.

Service With a Smile Is Not Exactly What South Jersey Is Known For

Once the rings are properly fried, Vodka pays her $15 tab, which seems rather lofty, and she and her mother make their way out of Maple Shade (ironically encountering a bright yellow building en route, which Vodka's mother insists is the way the Yellow Submarine should look).

And While They're At It, They May Want to Start Vacuuming Their Only Rug

When we arrive home, Vodka discovers that the "large" cheesesteak she has ordered is roughly the size of a party hoagie.  It seems Yellow Submarine's cheesesteaks come in mini, small, and large -- the large being a full, sixteen-inch gargantuan-sized feast.

Perfect Prop for a Future "I Can't Believe I Ate the Whole Thing" Commercial

Living Large

When Vodka tears into the packaging, she notices that the cheesesteak is still supremely hot, despite its wait and travel time, and that due to the ventilation hole that the ever-chipper employee had cut into the side of the styrofoam onion ring box, they remain deceivingly fresh.

Kudos on the Ventilation, Yellow Submarine

Why Is This Not Standard Practice? Genius!

Contorting the sandwich into a variety of shapes for picture purposes, Vodka eventually removes half of it and proceeds to cut it down the middle to share with her chauffeur.

And Ideally, About 85 Other Family Members

The first bite proves to be the ideal type of cheesesteak for Vodka's tastebuds -- finely chopped flavorful meet, oodles of provolone cheese, and soft, moldable bread.

Yellow Submarine's Portions = A Herd of Cattle's Worst Nightmare

Featuring a generous amount of steak melding itself perfectly into the roll, this cheesesteak is among the best Vodka has ever had, on par with Tony Luke's variety and much preferred to the version she tasted from Carmen's Deli.

Gold Medal Cheesesteak

In contrast, Vodka's mother is not over the moon with Yellow Submarine's creation for the exact reason that Vodka is: the bread.  Vodka hates hard Italian rolls (which had been featured at Carmen's Deli) and much prefers soft, pliable bread products; her mother feels the opposite.  Despite these differences, we are equally impressed with the lack of grease dripping from Yellow Submarine's sandwich, and though we are only able to polish off half of the cheesesteak in a sitting, we think it is worth the rather steep price tag.

And the Onion Rings Are Worth Their Weight in Scrumptious Gold

And while the Yellow Submarine may not have done much to disprove the Food Network's seeming desire to prove that South Jersey is comprised only of dumpy restaurants, it is an absolute notch in the post of Vodka's theory that the best Philly cheesesteaks actually come from South Jersey.

It Is, After All, From Where All Classy Things Come

Yellow Submarine's Cheesesteak: 4 stars

Off the Map: Would You Be Interested in Tailgating?

Chaps Special Submarine -- Chaps Pit Beef, Baltimore, MD
Chaps Pit Beef

Well, it's happened.  Vodka has crossed an item off of her bucket list (that she never even wanted on her bucket list in the first place):

Vodka has ridden in a pick-up truck.  Vodka has also "tailgated" in the flatbed trunk of a pick-up truck.  Apparently, this is the kind of thing that happens when one goes to Chaps Pit Beef in Baltimore.

Vodka Probably Would Have Done Such Things at a Professional Football Game Had She Ever Agreed to Go to One

Best Thing I Ever Ate is sending Vodka to Chaps Pit Beef for the Chaps Special Submarine, a sandwich which consists of corn beef, ham, roast beef, and American cheese.  Because Bloody Mary is being judgmental about Chaps's high class "reputation" (and in truth, because she wants to start cocktail consumption stat), she forces her friend to escort us to the establishment.  Located on a highway, spewing smoke out of a multitude of chimney stacks, and nestled next to a strip club, Chaps Pit Beef is not exactly Le Bernardin. 

James Beard Award Winner?

Keeping It Classy, Baltimore

Still, as Chaps features a long line of customers out the door, it seems Guy Fieri knew his stuff on the BETWEEN BREAD episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate.

And He's Apparently Intent on Proving It

What Is Sniveling?!

We snake our way into the restaurant, which features a small number of picnic tables scattered around two windows: one where you order and one where you pick up (the Baltimore version of a "drive-thru").

Would Be Easier If We Could Actually Drive Through in the Pick-Up Truck...

Vodka places an order for one special sub sandwich, and the pleasant woman behind the first window asks if it's okay that the sandwich comes with American cheese (so Chaps also suddenly keeps kosher practices?) and how we'd like our meat cooked (we say medium).

And With That, We're Overwhelmed

We loop around to the next window, and it then becomes obvious why Chaps is able to specify the degree to which a customer wants her meat cooked -- a giant display of simmering meats stands over smokers just inside the window, and shavings are removed for each individual sandwich.  Vodka tries clandestinely to photograph the procedure, but when one of the cooks sees her, he leaps out of her way rather than block her view (Ginger could take a lesson from this man).

Meat-Fest Photo Op

As we wait for our sandwich, Vodka becomes obsessed with procuring plastic cups of condiments: ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, BBQ sauce, and pickles are soon stacked in her arms, and when our sandwich is ready, we head outside.

Where we climb into the back of a pick-up truck to "tailgate."

One Always Needs Pickles When Dining in the Trunk

Now, climbing into a pick-up truck, for someone who has never done so, is no easy feat, and Vodka and Bloody Mary display as much grace as Tonya Harding when completing the procedure (after all, Vodka has her plethora of condiments to protect).

If Anything Should Happen, Save the Ketchup First

When we are properly assembled (and we take eighteen pictures of ourselves in the back of a pick-up, as this is a circumstance that is sure not to happen again any time soon), we unwrap our sandwich and gawk.

Flintstone-Sized Feast

First of all, while the special submarine itself is rather short and stout, it is packed to maximum capacity with the three varieties of meat, plus thick slivers of orange American cheese.  Vodka spreads ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, and pickles on her half, while Bloody Mary sticks with BBQ sauce.  We clutch the roll together tightly and take our first hefty bites.

And tailgating never tasted so good.

"Meat" Me In Baltimore

Against our fears, the sandwich stays together pretty well, a feat we accredit to the roll, which is moldable without being soft, and clutches the meat much more tightly than a crispy Italian roll would.

The Roll Is Also Thankfully Devoid of Those Dreaded Sesame Seeds

The meat itself is ideally cooked -- tender and juicy without being runny, and featuring the faintest hint of smoke.  We each find our respective condiments the ideal accompaniments, and we polish off the sandwich lickety-split.

Good Thing We Have Big Mouths

We also decide that contrary to our initial judgmental thoughts, Chaps Pit Beef submarine is the best thing we have ever eaten... in a pick-up truck parked next to a strip club.

Chaps Special Submarine: 4 stars