breakfast sandwich adventure
While staying at the SoHo Grand in New York on business, I got up early to grab an egg sandwich. Even the most die-hard Red Sox fan would have to admit that yes, New Yorkers know a thing or two about making a breakfast sandwich.
In Boston, the breakfast sandwich is an after thought. In New York, it’s a religion. Every deli man on every corner can create a light, fluffy, delicious egg and cheese on a bun so fresh it makes you wish you could eat two.
The SoHo Deli one block up the street from the SoHo Grand is no exception. The deli man whipped me up a beauty, and I took it back to eat upon a bench in front of the SoHo Grand Hotel.
The three doormen were chatting by the door.
“Man, when I used to work at that other joint I was minding the door and this little fella of a guest came back and sat down on the bench next to the door. So he opens up this bag to eat this big breakfast sandwich.”
“What kind?” said the other door man.
“Egg and cheese and bacon, you could smell it. So I turn around to open the door for a guest, and I hear this homeless guy say, “Gimme your sandwich!!!”
“You’re shitting me,” he said.
“No. So the little fella hands the big homeless dude his sandwich and now the homeless guy is eating the sandwich and the little fella is walking around with a long look on his puss. So the little fella looks at me and says, “He took my sandwich.” And I’m like, Hey, do I look The Lone Fucking Ranger? I’m dressed in a goddamned doorman outfit. I just open the door I’m not in charge retrieving your sandwich.”
After I enjoyed the story and finished my breakfast, I rolled the sandwich wrapper up in a ball, and put it in the bag. As I walked back in the door, I stopped just long enough to have a chat with the story teller. “I don’t look like much…But nobody’s taking my sandwich,” I said.
Although he outweighed me by 25 pounds, he was obliged to agree.
In Boston, the breakfast sandwich is an after thought. In New York, it’s a religion. Every deli man on every corner can create a light, fluffy, delicious egg and cheese on a bun so fresh it makes you wish you could eat two.
The SoHo Deli one block up the street from the SoHo Grand is no exception. The deli man whipped me up a beauty, and I took it back to eat upon a bench in front of the SoHo Grand Hotel.
The three doormen were chatting by the door.
“Man, when I used to work at that other joint I was minding the door and this little fella of a guest came back and sat down on the bench next to the door. So he opens up this bag to eat this big breakfast sandwich.”
“What kind?” said the other door man.
“Egg and cheese and bacon, you could smell it. So I turn around to open the door for a guest, and I hear this homeless guy say, “Gimme your sandwich!!!”
“You’re shitting me,” he said.
“No. So the little fella hands the big homeless dude his sandwich and now the homeless guy is eating the sandwich and the little fella is walking around with a long look on his puss. So the little fella looks at me and says, “He took my sandwich.” And I’m like, Hey, do I look The Lone Fucking Ranger? I’m dressed in a goddamned doorman outfit. I just open the door I’m not in charge retrieving your sandwich.”
After I enjoyed the story and finished my breakfast, I rolled the sandwich wrapper up in a ball, and put it in the bag. As I walked back in the door, I stopped just long enough to have a chat with the story teller. “I don’t look like much…But nobody’s taking my sandwich,” I said.
Although he outweighed me by 25 pounds, he was obliged to agree.
posted by joe berkeley at 5:32 AM
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