S.F. Sandwich Culture is Cool, But New York's No. 7 Sub Goes Beyond
San Franciscans tiring (somehow) of porchetta sandwiches at Il Cane Rosso and drippy subs at the possibly doomed Ike's might want to catch a plane east. A not-so-old Brooklyn-based college friend of ours is gleefully scrambling the sandwich script, reveling in off-the-wall ingredient combinations guaranteed to make your brain and 'buds flip ― and your picky great-aunt squirm.
jasonlam/Flickr Braised lamb sandwich at No. 7 Sub in Manhattan.
A New York Times review dubbed Tyler Kord, chef-owner of No. 7 in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, and now of No. 7 Sub in the Ace Hotel in Manhattan's Flatiron District, the "Wonka of submarine sandwiches," and the evidence, as laid out, lives up to the billing.
Mr. Kord makes a roast beef hero that tastes of blueberries. He stuffs hoagies with ceviche, and also broccoli. And he piles on candied wasabi, papadams, whole fried lemon slices and doenjang, a Korean fermented soybean paste.... [T]hat roast beef sub, ... the meat itself is juicy. Then you get a hit of umami from the sour-salty-sweet doenjang. There's also smoked gouda with a tinge of musk. And finally, pickled blueberries that taste as if the chef had gone foraging that morning. They're a brilliant update of cornichons.... The descriptions read like Zen koans: "Peanut butter, mint jelly, romaine, papadam." That's the braised lamb. The mint jelly makes sense: it's dinner with your grandmother at the Carlyle. Another bite, and you detect the peanut butter ― jelly's eternal mate, of course, and a witty detour to the playground. But what's that crackle? Papadams? Suddenly we're in Mughal India.
Offerings vary day-to-day and cost $9 apiece. Take our order, please.