Ike's Place

When John Montagu the 4th Earl of Sandwich had his servants bring him a slab of meat squeezed between slices of bread to quickly satiate his hunger during marathon gambling sessions, he must have realized what he was onto.  Such a simple concept, yet it took until the mid 18th century for someone to figure it out.  But boy am I glad he did.

I love me a good sandwich.  It's something so simple, and yet difficult to master.  Any schmo can layer cold cuts between a couple of Wonder Bread slices, but that doesn't make it a good sandwich.  My uncles contend that my grandmother made the best sandwiches.  Using the exact same ingredients, could I not make an equally great sandwich?  The answer is no. I've had my grandmother's sandwiches.

What is it then?  Is it the meat to bread to cheese to condiment ratio?  That is of course part of it.  And then there is the quality of the ingredients themselves.  A sourdough roll is great, but if its too hard it'll cut the roof of your mouth and all the guts of the sandwich will squirt out the sides.  What's the best mustard; spicy brown, honey Dijon, or plain ol' French's yellow?  Which meat and cheese combinations are the best?  Lettuce or sprouts?  What is king of the meats:  turkey, salami, ham, bologna, olive loaf, head cheese?  The options are endless.

Whatever the secret to a great sandwich the folks at Ike's Place--namely Ike Shehadeh--have got it figured out.  There are several Ike's Place locations in the Bay Area and my family and I ate at one of the newest ones in Santa Rosa.  A couple buddies of mine, one of them a sandwich connoisseur such as myself, recommended it.  And now I have to kill him because the sandwiches are so good I may eat them too often and will soon sport an unsightly spare tire.  Or a slightly larger, more unsightly spare tire.

Ike's Place menu's vary by location, adapting themselves to the local culture.  For instance a sandwich featuring pastrami, bacon, and Swiss is called a Say Hey in San Francisco, but a Charles Schultz in Santa Rosa.  This particular sandwich--on a freshly made dutch crunch roll--was my first at Ike's and it blew my mind.

Like the stupendous dutch crunch roll I had--and have had several time hence---all of Ike's bread choices are freshly baked, with their super secret and delicious dirty sauce baked right in!  You can get bread without the baked in sauce, but why would you?  I have no idea what the dirty sauce is, or why its called dirty sauce, but I frankly don't care.  It's awesome.

Among others, I've also had the Jaymee Sirewich, named for Comcast Sports Network reporter Jaymee Sire.  Consisting of fried chicken, pepper jack cheese, Ike's yellow BBQ sauce, and ranch, its as spunky and sweet as Jaymee Sire herself!  I'm speculating there.  I have no idea if Jaymee Sire is spunky or sweet, but I figure the odds must be pretty good if she is the namesake of a sandwich this amazing.

I've also had the Jon Lum.  I have no idea who John Lum is--and am apparently too lazy to google him--but if he's got a ribeye and cheddar sandwich with onion rings named in his honor he must be one incredible individual.

Needless to say, I have yet to be disappointed by Ike's.  To me, they've lept to the top of the heap when it comes to chain restaurant sandwich making.  In this blogger's book the order goes like this:  Ike's, Togo's, Quizno's, and Subway and their lettucewiches a very, very, very distant fourth.

If you're in the Bay Area, chances are you can find an Ike's near by.  If you don't love whatever you get, I guarantee to reimburse you.
(Guarantee will not be honored)