La Mexicana

170 E. Washington Street
Painesville, OH 44077
440-358-0829

by Beau Cadiyo

“Una Torta” is Mexican for “Sandwich.” “HA!” I hear you saying to yourself, “this uncultured buffoon thinks, like George W. Bush, that Mexican is a language! Tosh!” Well go jump in un lago, amigo – in Spain, y en Español, a sandwich is “un bocadillo.” Without getting into details, I think the differences between languages should be classified as new languages - thus, in Mexican a sandwich is "una torta." Whatever language you speak or make up, though, the meaning is the same: leavened bread with filling.

Of course, you don’t need to resort to linguistic analysis to determine that this is a Mexican restaurant: it’s fricking called “La Mexicana” and is connected to what is, apparently, the largest Mexican grocery store in Ohio. Inside the restaurant bit there is a faux clay-shingled roof, I suppose to make you feel like you are on an outdoor patio. The large, open grill is always busy; the cook jumps around like a worm in a bean and the short girl who takes orders laughs at my mispronunciations in Spanish and then makes her own attempts in English. There are always a few people sitting bar-style around the restaurant, which has one window looking into the street and another looking into the grocery store.

Una torta costs $3. It is small, in a chewy, sauce-soaked bun of some exotic, high-quality ingredients, the taste and texture of which would make any French baker stand up and take notice. The chicken and pepper filling, the same as in their chicken burritos, is stunning – saucy, shredded pollo asada perfectly prepared, sensibly seasoned and carefully cooked. It’s one of several options, the rest of which I have not yet tried. Despite the amazingness of it all, I was a little disappointed. The food is infallibly delicious, but the torta was just so small – about the size of a large hamburger. OK, so maybe it wasn’t small for others, but it certainly was for me. I was expecting something good on the scale of their burritos, which are massive, stuffed affairs with the second most delicious tortillas I’ve ever tasted.

Having grown up a few miles from the US-Mexico border, and having eaten epic amounts of Mexican food throughout my life, La Mexicana is easily the best I’ve had in Ohio and beats, handily, many places in Southern California, Northern California, Oregon, Virginia, Maryland, Wales and Spain. It easily justifies the trip to Painesville, but – y tengo un dolor en mi corazón – skip the torta and go for a burrito. Other non-professional eaters have been unable to finish it in a single sitting; it’s well worth the extra $2.

Captain Tony’s Pizza and Pasta Emporium

Worldwide Pizza Franchise
13208 Shaker Square
Cleveland, OH 44120
216-561-8669

By Edward Sandwichhands

Captain Tony’s is a quaint take out place located in Shaker Square with five accommodating tables, a large menu, and the type of witty banter you can expect from any fine establishment in Cleveland. I wouldn’t recommend going to Captain Tony’s to pick up women, but if you are looking to pick up balding, overweight, thirty-something men and a case of indigestion – Captain Tony’s is the spot.

For $28 we managed to fill our entire table with two orders of toto-fries, an order of cheese breadsticks, a side salad, two eggplant parmesan sandwiches and a gyro. The order was absurd; we clearly had no idea what we were doing. Captain Tony told us we wouldn’t finish everything. I hate being told that I can’t do something, but he was right: we ordered way too much.

The fries and breadsticks were better than I’d expect from a worldwide pizza franchise. Unfortunately, the eggplant parmesan just didn’t do it for me: the roll was burdened with eggplant to the point that the sandwich was sloppy and difficult to eat. (I’d describe it as a ship about to capsize) When I order eggplant parmesan I like a firm balance of eggplant, cheese and sauce. It’s not like they have to live together in perfect harmony; I just feel they need to be reasonably well proportioned. My sandwich was loaded with eggplant but lacking the necessary amounts of sauce and cheese. I don’t need my sandwich “smothered” like old D.John, but there are rules to the sandwich game:

Rule 1) All sandwiches must be delicious.
Rule 2) All sandwiches must be made with fresh ingredients.
Rule 3) All sandwiches must be well presented.
Rule 4) All sandwiches must have proper form
Rule 5) All sandwiches must have well proportioned ingredients.

These are the cardinal rules of sandwiches. To break one of these rules is, in my eyes, a sin against God and country. Any sandwich that fails to comply with the above list of rules should be reported to the Cleveland Sandwich Board immediately. If you venture to Captain Tony’s, I’d stick to the pizza and the salads. If you want a sandwich, go somewhere that knows the rules of the game.

McNulty's Pub

1765 Coventry Rd.
Cleveland Heights, Ohio 44118
216.932.9996

By Edward Sandwichhands

Where does Cleveland go to get sandwiches after midnight on Sunday? If you happen to be stuck on Coventry saucing with your comrades, the answer is simple: McNulty’s Pub. The conventional choice of most Coventry-goers is Guy’s pizza, but if you need faster and greasier late-night eats, McNulty’s is your forum - particularly if you are looking for a sandwich.

McNulty’s is not very crowded on Sunday nights because all the cool kids go to the B-Side for indie rock night. The place was nearly empty and we were the only ones there to eat. I immediately knew that I needed the beef brisket Philly. It felt like a steal for $5, and the sandwich was ready almost immediately. The sandwich was large, steaming, covered in provolone and Swiss cheese, adorned with mushrooms and onions, and drowning in its own liquids. I was pretty hungry so I wolfed it down. In the process of doing so I created a sizable grease puddle capable of heating a small village in some hypothetical country. After I discarded my final crust I saw Frank Elkins take it and dip it in the grease pile for a late night munch. After being confronted, Frank readily admitted that it wasn’t a good idea and that the discarded bread crust and grease were pretty disgusting.

When the sandwich was over, I felt like a genuine McNulty’s patron: drunk, bloated and unsatisfied with life. The sandwich was pretty decent except for being entirely too greasy. But you must always know your place. If you go to a bar after midnight on a Sunday and the sandwich you get isn’t greasy, there’s probably something wrong.

What is your favorite late night spot to grab a sandwich, Cleveland?

Freddie’s Southern Style Rib House

1431 Saint Clair Ave NE
Cleveland, OH 44114
(216) 575-1750

UPDATE: FREDDIE'S HAS MOVED TO THE SUBURBS.

Bite: Get here before the health department shuts it down.

by Beau Cadiyo

Cleveland’s most recent and important culinary award was inclusion in Esquire’s list of top sandwiches in America. We'd already reviewed Slyman's, but the other entry was foreign to our tongues: Freddie’s Rib House.

Freddie’s is dark – ominously dark. Besides the window outside, it seemed like the only light behind the grease-stained order windows was a small television. Three dim bulbs floated overhead. It was like walking into a cave.

A soul-food cave without fried chicken.

The server didn’t seem ashamed of this shortcoming, nor did she seem worried about the conspicuously absent Department of Health rating sign. I’m reasonably sure that Freddie’s would fail. The men’s bathroom was in shambles – at least, I took it to be the men’s bathroom, as there wasn’t a sign on the door. There were two soap dispensers, both caked in dried liquid soap and unidentifiable grime. There were no paper towels or any way to dry one’s hands, but plenty of unused industrial cleaning supplies. Walking back into the seating area, I was struck by how everything was soiled, caked in grease and dust and dirt, from the grill against one wall to the floor to the booths and tables to the kitsch pictures on the walls. D. said it was filth from lacking a proper grease trap. Things looked grim.

I said, “This is depressing.” Ed laughed and said, “you think?”

My appetizer, the “large” potato salad, was speckled with cayenne pepper and came in a styrofoam cup barely larger than a shot glass. I poked the spork out of its plastic wrapping; it was not bad. Then my large Polish Boy floated before me, a boat in its tin-foil wrapper. Next to it on the Styrofoam plate were two servings of Macaroni and Cheese, which, on first taste, proved to be gritty, the sign of being made with real cheese.

The Polish Boy was in a real bun, covered in fries and soaking with sauce. The sausage was black, which initially made me skeptical – I was sure it was burned. A layer of fries on top packed it in, and everything was covered in a bright sauce.
And what a sauce: sweet, tangy, like a thick broth. The bread yielded stubbornly to my spork, chewy and delicious. And the sausage – the sausage! The black was a trick; immediately underneath was a succulent bright red delicious mass. As soon as it poked out, D. cut off a piece. Then another. Each bite was new and interesting. The fries were unsalted and tasty, the coleslaw fresh and crunchy.

Was Esquire right in including Freddie’s for its Polish Boy? Thirty one hours later, the thought of it still made me salivate. Four days later I found that my jeans were still caked in a thin layer of grease. Yes, Esquire was right, and I recommend that you go – go quickly, before the Health Department shuts this place down.

What is a review?

By Beau Cadiyo

Someone named Mickey recently took umbrage with my review of Brennan’s Colony. Mickey wrote that we needed to “try again,” implying that our review and our experience of Brennan’s Colony was wrong. Naturally, I began to formulate a response, and I went so far as to write it out. Then I thought of this question:

“What if he’s right?”

Then, I thought:

“What is a review?”

Really, what are we doing? What IS a review? My dictionary defines a review as “A formal assessment or examination of something with the possibility or intention of instituting change if necessary; a critical appraisal of a book, play, movie, exhibition, etc. published in a newspaper or a magazine.” I don’t think anyone at the CSB believes that our reviews will somehow institute change in a restaurant. Our reviews are critical appraisals of sandwiches in a blog – a whole new medium they might not have thought of.

Our reviews are conducted without much fanfare. We go to a restaurant. We order sandwiches and sides. We eat them. We trade pieces of sandwich, cheesecake, meatloaf, cookie, mashed potatoes or chips around. Then, whoever is writing the review for that week writes it. The restaurant doesn’t get a whiff of what we’re doing otherwise – we want no special favors, no chef visit, no comped bill to influence us. D. John drinks when writing his reviews, which works marvelously. Ed’s influence is whatever he is reading at the time (Dostoevsky was the most recent voice to appear). I try to tell people what happened, without whitewashing it.

But again: what if Mickey’s right?

Mickey implies that there are objective opinions, that his experiences are the objective opinions, and that if we did “try again,” our wrong, subjective opinions would agree with his correct, objective opinion. That, to me, would kill a review: reviews, opinions and critical appraisals all rely on our own experiences. As an editor, I would never let my reviewers rely on the experience of someone else in writing their critical appraisal of anything. My experience of Brennan’s Colony, of course, was informed by nearly a year of personally reviewing sandwiches, as well as my experience at Brennan’s Colony. His opinion and review was informed by eating several different dishes there.

And I, apparently, need to “try again.”

If so, I guess the natural result is that all movie reviewers would have to watch movies repeatedly until they fell in line with Mickey’s objective opinion. (I think this actually happens in North Korea.) If they were wrong, they would have to “try again.” Same with book, snowblower and toilet paper reviewers. Or perhaps everyone would have to try every dish in a restaurant on different days prepared by different chefs and served by different waitresses or waiters before reviewing a restaurant. Perhaps different chairs and tables might make a difference. They’d have to look into that and decide.

Perhaps Mickey is right. However, I don’t have the time, money or inclination to go about doing things the way he wants me to. I wrote my review of Brennan’s Colony based on my experience. Brennan’s Colony was pretty crappy. I cannot change that, nor do I want to, nor will I “try again.”

Tommy’s

1824 Coventry Rd
Cleveland Heights, OH 44118
(216) 321-7757
www.tommyscoventry.com

Bite: Fake meat doesn't have to be bad, but it is horrible here.

by Beau Cadiyo

Natalie flew into Cleveland for my birthday, bearing gifts of a mix CD and two bags of tea. She also baked an amazing cake – Chocolate Orange, from Trader Joe’s – and we went to a really good show at the Grog Shop. On the flight, she had figured out that we’d broken up exactly four years earlier. Natalie had been a really great girlfriend: hot, nice and a lot of fun. I’d forgotten that. She has been a vegetarian for something like 10 years now, so I wanted to show her a good vegetarian Cleveland meal. Thus, Tommy’s.
As usual, it was packed, and we waited in their incredibly awkward waiting area. It was dark and loud – very loud. We were seated just as someone was finishing wiping down the table.
We talked, and it felt natural again. The food came – a huge pile of very fried fries, a milk shake, Natalie’s vegetarian whatever, and my veggie burger. I started with the fries, which were dark, oily and perfectly-salted. I slathered them in ketchup, hot sauce and vinegar and dropped them in my mouth. The texture was perfect, the mixture of tastes sublime.
Then I bit into my veggie burger.
My ordering process at Tommy’s is predictable. First, I sit down. I look at the menu. I think of all the reasons to be vegetarian: health, environment, avoiding animal torture, etc. I see the Veggie Burger. I remember that I didn’t like it the last time, but I don’t remember why. I think that perhaps I was being overly picky before. I get it.
And every single time I think that it’s the worst veggie burger I’ve ever had. First, the bread is almost always bone-dry. Second, the texture is somewhere close to fried mush or dog crap. Third, the paltry vegetable garnishes rarely add any taste, and the tempeh or whatever they serve on the side adds flavorless cold mass to the concoction. Finally, it’s horrible AND there's not enough of it. The veggie burgers are always served on a huge white plate which just makes it seem smaller. Something about the combined taste reminds me of the headaches I get when I read in the car.
Tommy's veggie burgers taste like motion sickness.
I went back to the fries, and Natalie let me have some of her Oreo milkshake. Tommy’s milkshakes are beyond compare: thick, cold, and chunky enough that cookie chunks jam my straw up. I remember that the last time, around the time I swore to never get a veggie burger there, I had promised myself a meal of fries and a milkshake, but it was so long ago that I’d forgotten. Next time, next time.
However, considering that even the milkshake didn’t get the nasty taste out of my mouth, I’m thinking it might be a while before I return. Hopefully I won’t forget again.

Tastebuds Restaurant

1400 E. 30th Street
Cleveland, Ohio. 44114
www.tastebudsrestaurant.com

By Edward Sandwichhands

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all sandwiches are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable toppings, that among these are cheese, sun-dried tomato’s and the pursuit of deliciousness.

Unfortunately the above statement is utter rubbish. Sandwich’s are not created equal. Some are created with high quality ingredients, some with moldy bread crusts, and some sandwiches are made with so much love that you know the person preparing the sandwich must have had you in mind. At first sight Tastebuds appeared to be a location that could provide an amazing sandwich.

Everything offered at Tastebuds is already prepared when you arrive; Tastebuds operates a catering business out of their restaurant. This means that there is relatively no wait for your food at Tastebuds. However, there is also little room for alterations, requests or freshness.

The place was bright, vibrant, and well situated. Everyone looked happy, there were awards on the wall, we saw several parties picking up large orders to go, and one of my companions even had a very decent dish (gourmet meatloaf, which I have to admit was pretty good.) However, please try to explain all of these wonderful things about Tastebuds to my chicken sandwich.

I feel like my sandwich was prepared by a vegetarian for someone else other than myself. It was so dry I am positive that it was left out in the sun. I love spinach; there was hardly any on my sandwich. The cheese on the sandwich had been melted for so long ago that any trace of flavor had escaped into the vast dry desert of a chicken breast below. The garlic-basil mayo was actually pretty good – it was certainly the highlight of the meal – but flavorful mayo alone cannot save any sandwich.

All sandwiches are not created equal. Some are created before your arrival and left in a shallow warming tray to die alone. Tastebuds might offer a good low cost catered lunch for anyone who doesn’t want to leave the office. However, the perfect sandwich requires proper timing and a great deal of care. I think I expected too much from this sandwich-catering-factory-salad-pizza-meatloaf-bad-brownie-
undeserved-award-winning establishment.