Thursday, March 26, 2009


Ok, so I know I've been preaching (actually, I hope I haven't been preaching) about how important it is to BYOL but I'm slightly embarrassed to say that I have been breaking my own rule lately. But before you write me off as a hypocritical liar, hear me out. I am amidst a move. Most of my kitchen has been packed up in boxes. This means my life (pots, pans, knives, microplanes), literally, is in boxes.

I digress.

Today has been an odd day. I rolled out of bed and did not allow myself to properly wake up before I left for work. All day I've felt off. Still in REM mode or something. Not really sure where I am. And three different people on three different occasions have asked me if I'm alright. I don't have an answer to that question.

So I decided to throw all caution to the wind and let myself order whatever the H I wanted for lunch. And what I wanted was something slightly greasy, cheesy, and warm. The answer? The best Cuban sandwich EVER.

I ran -- no, at a sloth-like pace I walked -- downstairs to Ruthy's Bakery (located in Chelsea Market). A deli I typically brush off as, well, bad. Never been satisfied with anything I've ever ordered there. But for whatever reason, I decided to give their Cuban sandwich a try. The menu promised me a hot sandwich with ham, pickles, and mojo sauce. Interesting. I think I must have blacked out at the counter because before I knew it, I was unwrapping a hot sandwich that was soon going to make me yell, "AYE PAPI!"


Let me walk you through this. A long, soft, hoagie roll (but more of a cross between a baguette and a hoagie roll) filled with fresh, REAL ham, gooey, melted American cheese, homemade pickles, pickled jalapenos, and a mojo sauce (garlic, herbs, olive oil, damn). With each bite, I kept looking around, making sure no one was about to swoop in and steal my heavenly discovery. I was hoarding.

Authentic Cuban? Well, heck no. Pork? No. Swiss Cheese? Nada. Mustard? Not a drop. But delicious, decadent, and divine? Si! Si! Si! I'm almost upset for unearthing this sandwich because I fear it will become an awfully bad and convenient habit.

My name is Kiira and I already have a problem.

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