Skip to main content

It is better to look good than to taste good

Not a food maxim to follow, generally, despite Iron Chef’s emphasis on plating. But this time it proved true, and I learned a lesson about second chances.

It was not long ago that Philipe lured me into eating his so-called Southwest Chicken Gourmet Sandwich, which I ultimately regretted for several reasons. Still, being a glutton for both punishment and sandwiches, I recently tried Philipe’s other Walgreens panini: the Turkey Club Gourmet Sandwich. One look, and you'll kn
ow it's not a club sandwich. One bite, and you’ll know turkey is not prominently featured beyond its name. Despite these setbacks, this sandy exceeded my expectations.

One of my main complaints about my first Philipe panini purchase was that the photo on the box failed to look anything like the product within. Usually this kind of deception comes with a disclaimer explaining the need for some assembly, or a statement explaining that the elaborate spread on the box is merely a “serving suggestion” assuming you plan to gussy up your frozen meal with an array of garnishes.

This time, I knew better, and guessed some assembly might help. Instead of treating the panini like two open-faced sandwiches, I cleverly pressed them together and sliced the result in half. And lo, it did in fact look like the sandy on the box. It seems what I had originally attributed to false advertising was my own fault. In the computer world, this is called user error.

In my defense, the back of the box’s extensive instructions said nothing about putting the sandwich together. But I still owe an apology. Phillipe: I am sorry.


Correctly assembled, the sandwich was far more satisfying. I felt like I was eating a proper sandy and not some bush league bruschetta.

Lest I mislead, the sandwich still sucked. Less so than the southwestern panini, but it certainly wasn’t good. The oddly extensive variety of tiny diced bits of meat left an unpleasantly oily and sa
lty aura in my mouth, as did the unidentifiable cheese blend. On the plus side, the bread toasted up nicely thanks to the package's magic silver grilling platform.

I can’t pinpoint the extent to which the assembly affected my judgment, as this panini tasted awfully similar to the last one, but the Turkey
Club was undeniably one half sandy better than the Southwest.

Kudos, Philipe — you have raised my respect (ever so slightly) for your sandwich operation, Walgreens and the French.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Review: Pepperhouse Gourmaise

Being that Big Condiment still seems to think Mustardayonnaise is a joke, I've been forced to seek out a suitable alternative. This search led me to Boar's Head's "Pepperhouse Gourmaise" spread.

According to Boar's Head, Pepperhouse Gourmaise is "real mayonnaise with a touch of Boar's Head Deli Mustard and a house blend of black, white, pink and green peppercorns." They also claim that it goes well with poultry, beef and pork.

I can confirm that it goes well with poultry and pork (or at least ham — I haven't tried it with any other pig-meats). And the quality of the ingredients seems to live up to Boars Head's high standards. As a black pepper kind of guy, I'm impressed by their fancy pink peppercorns.

Still, I can't say I'm satisfied with B.H.P.G. Its color is off-putting and the peppercorns hurt my teeth. And while it's decidedly OK, like so many jacks of all trades, this spread amounts to less than the sum of its parts…

Kewpie Mayonnaise: Disturbing but delicious

After years of waffling, I finally took the dive and purchased a bottle of Kewpie mayo.

Kewpie mayo's premium price and disturbing packaging had previously prevented me from buying it, but Grub Street blogger Ian Knauer's Flavor Ammo post about it convinced me to give the baby-themed mayo a chance.

For the unfamiliar, Kewpie is a popular Japanese brand of mayonnaise that's often found in gourmet specialty stores, such as Eastern District in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. It's also currently available for 10 bucks on Amazon. The package features a standing baby that could easily serve as a homicidal doll in a horror story. Adding to the unease brought about by the package, the mayonnaise comes in a bag. I can't be alone in my belief that a bag is a completely inappropriate container for mayonnaise.

Because of these setbacks, Kewpie mayo takes some getting used to. Now that I've come to terms with the unsettling packaging, I've probably topped about a…

Boar's Head Jerk Turkey is spicy

At my local C Town deli counter, I was pondering what to get for my weekly cold cuts. I was the only person around, so the deli guy immediately asked what I wanted. In a panic, I blurted out, "Buffalo Chicken! No! Ummmmm ... [frantically panning the meat case] uh, Jerk Turkey!" He sliced it up and I was on my way.

Now, I know next to nothing about what's in Jerk seasoning. I think it's Jamaican, and my understanding was that it had something like a mild curry flavor. In the case of Boar's Head's Jerk Turkey, it's apparently a chile-heavy dry rub.

The heat blast was a shock when I bit into my lunchtime turkey sandwich. Boar's Head makes some tasty spiced meats. Their Salsalito Turkey and Blazin' Buffalo Chicken come to mind. Neither of those are as hot as the Jerk Turkey. So it made my brown bag lunch a lot more intense than I was expecting. I usually have a high spice tolerance, so make sure you know what you're getting into if you're thi…