The Reuben from Ruggby's

This week’s sandwich was the Rueben served at the venerable Ruggby's Food & Spirits, 4820 University Drive. An establishment steeped in beer drenched history – long known as a hang-out for tenured professors and toady students, pasty engineers and over-pumped jocks, and even an occasional drop-in by everyone’s favorite weather technologist, Bob Barron.

Now I’m a big big fan of the Rueben. I’ve had them from the meat-packing district in Cleveland, and the Carnegie Deli in New York. I’ve even made my share when I was a hotel cook, for all the Jewish snowbirds flocking through Florida in the winter. So I have some preconceived notions about what a Reuben should be: Obscene stacks of corned beef and dripping piles of sauerkraut, with Swiss-cheese oozing everywhere – and paramedics stationed nearby in case of emergency. My father-in-law insists that the rye needs to be of the dark polish variety, and I used pumpernickel when I was a cook, but I think typically most places just use regular old light rye – lest the darker versions overpower the guts of the sandwich?

Anyway, the Rueben is not a sandwich for the faint of heart. Or so it should be. However, we discovered a schism in our group surrounding the Reuben served at Ruggby’s. For me, it was a pale imitation of a full figured Reuben. You could even say it was not Rubenesque at all. So, I found it unsatisfying as a corned-beef based sandwich, but several members of our party thought this trimmed down version was just right. Cara pointed out that it was really a fancy grilled-cheese sandwich with corned-beef thrown in, while others thought the relatively light use of sauerkraut was a welcome surprise. As one would expect, the sandwich was quite oily – being grilled in butter and all, and offered plenty of calories. A side of fries or onion rings rounded out everyone’s plate –also rather oily, but they were all eaten and therefore we can assume they were pretty good. So I think to sum it up, those of us that seek out Reubens as a matter of course were not completely satisfied with this version, but those for which sauerkraut is simply an Oktoberfest novelty, found this version of the sandwich to be quite tasty and well balanced.

One additional note, Ruggby’s is for the most part a bar. It was very smoky. Something everyone in our party had gotten used to not facing on a regular basis.

The Shrimp Po Boy at the Po Boy Factory

The tour-de-sandwich gang was back in action this week visiting the Po Boy Factory on Andrew Jackson Way. The targeted sandwich was the shrimp poboy with the main ingredient being fried shrimp on their special hoagie bun, with lettuce, tomato and mayo. No fancy fixins, but as someone in the group mentioned - it's hard to go wrong with fried shrimp and this sandwich doesn't break the rule. While most of the group seemed to agree the sandwich was "good", I didn't get the impression that most were necessarily bowled-over by it either. The hoagie bun is probably a bit of excess in the bread category, in fact noticed a number of other customers eating the contents and leaving the hoagie behind.

Rather than this particular sandwich the attraction is more the Po Boy Factory itself and the other offerings (http://poboyfactory.com/menu.html). The restaurant provides a glimpse into a Louisiana-flavor of eatery and many of the other menu items are worth the trip. Several in our group branched out and to the ettouffee. I was disappointed that they were out of the gumbo, which has been great on past visits. As we were paying the bill a fresh batch of bread pudding was crossing the counter and was grounds for sitting back down for dessert if we would of had time - smelled and looked great.

All in all, the shrimp and other po boy selections at the Po Boy factory are well worth the trip.

The Kitchen Sink at Stanlieo's Sub Villa

The Tour de Sandwich had to take an unexpected detour when we discovered that the next sandwich in line, Kentucky Hot Brown at The Scene Lounge in Monaco Pictures, could not be had at our regularly scheduled Tuesday lunch time: The Scene Lounge is not open then. We'll have to pick that one up later; we pressed on to The Kitchen Sink at Stanlieo's Sub Villa.

Stanlieo's is an institution, a Huntsville tradition. Plus, check out the ingredient list on this sandwich: ham, turkey, roast beef, Genoa salami, cotto salami, pepperoni, Swiss cheese, capicola, American cheese, provolone cheese, onion, pickles, tomato, salt, pepper and oregano. Seven kinds of meat and three different cheeses?! It sounds like a riot! Clearly the creator of this sandwich embraces the virtue of excess. This reviewer was very excited and expected a sandwich that would give The Godfather a run for its money.

As usual, our group bemused the staff with our identical orders; the anticipation built as the sandwiches arrived one by one. The verdict? Some folks were very pleased with the sandwich. For fans of Stanlieo's, the fresh-baked bread and chopped pickle/pepper mix make this sandwich an esteemed member of the Stanlieo's sandwich family. For me, though, the sandwich fell short. First of all, I hate oregano on a sub. I had forgotten that fact until, halfway through the sandwich, I finally identified the unpleasant flavor. (Obviously I didn't read all the way to the end of the ingredients list! Once I got past the cheeses, I apparently wrote off the rest as "blah blah sandwich stuff whatever.") Also, I found the pickles excessive and overwhelming. Furthermore, the human brain has only 7 plus or minus 2 spaces available in short term memory. When a sandwich contains seven meats and three cheeses, even a very smart brain can't process all of those elements individually, it has to group them somehow. In a well-rounded sandwich, this might take a form such as: salty meats, peppers, cheese and fatty sauces, veggies. For The Kitchen Sink, on the other hand, my brain grouped it as: oregano, pickles, casserole. The flavors failed to harmonize to my satisfaction, ending up as one big muddle (aside from the pickles and oregano, of course). The blander meats diminished the effect of the stronger, saltier meats but weren't strong enough dominate the sandwich themselves. I can't believe I'm saying this, but sometimes less really is more.