What’s For Lunch?
The Bar Pilot Patty Melt!
Posted by: John Chandler on Aug 31, 2010 at 12:00PM
13 Comments
I feel like I just ate a park bench. This will be my last lunch report from Big-Ass Sandwiches for a while, I promise. But since they did me the honor of naming this week’s special after me, I feel I should acknowledge the effort—especially since it’s friggin’ awesome.
The Bar Pilot Patty Melt is a leviathan of fresh ground Piedmontese beef (tender, juicy, lean) and grilled onions, splashed with caraway aioli, and loaded with a layer of french fries. You have three cheese choices; bleu cheese crumbles, Swiss, and the bechamel sauce. I recommend the latter, because it introduces a slightly smoky element into this highly munchable mess. The caraway aioli replicates the taste of rye bread, a traditional component of the patty melt, and the bechamel, onions, and fries become fused into a glorious, savory sidewalk of starch. I also recommend a change of clothes: the juice from the beef soaks the bread and the normally sturdy Fleur de Lis-baked bun turns into a spongy tortilla resulting in more falling debris than the Hindenburg. I’m ashamed to admit I couldn’t quite finish—don’t you judge me!
Having a sandwich named after me is one of the coolest things that’s ever happened. How pathetic am I? “That sandwich is you,” said one of my office mates. “Beefy, wry (rye), and really cheesy.” If I’d actually consumed the whole sandwich in one sitting it would have been my epitaph.
Speaking of monster sandwiches, I ate at the Sonic Drive-in in Wilsonville the other day. Glory be! It’s a sinful shrine dedicated to calories, carbohydrates, and carhops, a totally Old School operation like A&W used to be. You order from your car and a waitress on roller skates wheels out a tray loaded with heart-stopping comestibles—a partial menu is shown below. The dreaded tofu wouldn’t dare show its pale face around these parts. I guess what I’m trying to say is, temptation is everywhere. Enjoy your life and I’ll see you in hell.
Tags: Food Carts Big Ass Sandwiches
I’d eat you! Even though I know it would leave me feeling guilty and burning. Eh, I’ve written this four different ways, but it can’t come out as anything but a quadruple entendre… congrats! I’m off to lunch!
John, don’t worry, you’re not pathetic – you’re so much more than the sandwich you’re named after. You’re more like… the sandwich, plus chips!
Yay!! Its about time you got your own BP BAS!!
I’d give it a go. Would they be willing to substitute Field Roast for the ground beef?
@Ringworm: Dude, don’t rock the boat with a bunch of crazy substitutions. Eat your sammich!
Dude, you are so worthy! Sorry, I didn’t experience Big Ass while I was there. I’m afraid Sonic is pretty standard fare in these southern parts….
and he wept, for there were no worlds left to conquer.
Dear BAR PILOT, You have joined an exclusive and elite little cadre, my friend. We call it Club Sandwich. Membership privileges include: becoming the stuff of legend, conjecture, and caricature; having people you barely know shouting out, “Hey, I know that guy!” as they point at you; and being a word frequently used in crossword puzzles. Some restrictions apply. Membership dues payable Sept. 15, to avoid late fee charges. And in recognition of your sandwich-related achievement, allow me the honor of welcoming you, BAR PILOT, to Club Sandwich!
… as long as you’re okay with the big ass bit.
Just you wait, my friend. Tofu will be dancing on your grave.
Too late: The boat is a rockin’. Eating my Veggie Bar Pilot right this second and, man, you make a pretty tasty blogger.
I order a club sandwich all the time and I’m not even a member!
That was a frankly amazing piece of writing…