Category Archives: Virginia – Northern

Treating Myself VERY Well

Out doing errands trying to be in the now and enjoy my comfortable car, access to almost any food imaginable, quality sound surrounding me in the Honda capsule and general fantastic life. Doing errands alone is boring. And, to be frank, lonely. Sad even.

Remembering errand-doing with my mother in Appleton, Wisconsin when I was too small to be useful, every stop so exciting. Maybe Lester Balliet at the coal company office would pull a nickel from my ear. Maybe I could – this one time – talk my mother into not stepping on a single crack in the square tile linoleum floor at the A&P, provided she let me come in with her. Maybe she would leave me to wait in the A&P parking lot, hunched on the floor of the VW bug, super scratchy carpeting tearing up my tender skin, pretending I was important, left behind to be kept safe.

Remembering errand-doing with my mother in Fairfax County, Virginia, when I was old enough to be useful, we were purposeful and adventurous, exploring a new locale, so far from the midwest and so foreign. She was brave and determined. We stopped for lunch. I felt – and maybe my mother did too – a tiny bit exotic and as though I was growing my sophistication quotient. Steak in a Sack. Oh, that sounds so awful now. We are not new here anymore and we are suspicious of silly names. Steak in a Sack was thinly sliced, seared beef in pita – delicious – unlike anything we had ever seen or tasted or even heard of and I remember a slight sense of reverance when walking into the wafting scent of meat. Pita was new, exciting, warm, tender, and yummy.

Doing errands now, alone, I go for efficiency and wonder why I think that speeding up will make time go more slowly. It will not. This time, this one time, closing in on the German Gourmet, I pull in. The German Gourmet is not for bargain hunters, praise be to Odin.

Okay, okay, I did eat in my car, but only because they do not have tables. Why do they not have tables, I wonder. And why do I not drive the Honda CRV with the picnic table option? That picnic table option is a real thing.

The German Gourmet is a sleeper sandwich mecca.

It is. A mecca. They offer a punch card. And holy cow look at the options on the order sheet. Did somebody say Tyrol Cabbage? Remoulade? Curry Ketchup?

The errand-doing was okay. The sandwich was good. The Muenchner, because it included an unknown to me ingredient, leberkase. So good. Could a person simply slow down for a sandwich mid-errand. Yes, yes and yes. Thanks be to Odin.

Addendum: Thanks be to kramalot who is authorized to order and eat sausage at any turn.

Stillness is the New Chase

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Chase the Submarine in Vienna makes a fine sandwich, laced with ambition, loaded with cool. Add a side of sass and you have an It Wich.

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The faster you chase, the farther away you get. That’s how it looks from here. Stand still for a sec and the world appears before you.

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Smilishly. In an apron. Ready for action. Action that splashes. Action that spills and greases your lips.

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Fabulous Claire from Brooklyn, True-to-HimSelf Teddy and I ordered. Actually, we asked nicely. Steak and Cheese, Pork and Pickles, Bulgogi. Around the world at the speed of the maillard reaction.

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Watching was happening. Doing is our preference. In lieu of doing, watching it done with expertise and vivacity is vicariously satiating.

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I like this place enough to go often were it in walking distance. I admire and envy Tim Ma’s sandwich sanctuary.

 

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Bread and fillings exponentially expand into sandwiches ad infinitum, starting with its bread ectoskeleton. Chase the Submarine explores the natural kingdom of all four hemispheres.

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The young people. We love them. So many sandwich safaris ahead. And dang they are snappy. Had to stand still, stand back and love them till my fist of a heart pounded deeply in its deep, still waters.

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Now This is How You Slice It

NoVa Cover

The
Bubba Mike Sandwich
Is an
Oversized Sandwich with 1/2 lb. of Pulled Pork and a Texas Sausage Link, topped with Cheese Sauce, Creamy Coleslaw, and Original BBQ Sauce.
Find it at
Sweet Fire Donna’s.

Photo by Jonathan Timmes and Styling by Moi
Sandwich Saga in Northern Virginia Magazine
It’s a righteous reference.

It’s been a while since we were there and I’d forgotten the details on this legendary sandwich. To refresh my memory I called proprietess Donna and she gave me the Dagwoodian details.

Originally, Donna wanted to name her sandwich spot Bubba Mike’s, after her husband. He’s a Mike, all right, but he wasn’t comfortable being quite so publicly honored. They settled on Sweet Fire Donna’s.

When creating the menu Donna had her heart set on something mammoth, gargantuan, a “big mouth” sandwich.  The pulled pork, Texas sausage, cheese sauce, slaw and bbq sauce combo came to be. Perfect, she thought, but what to call her creation? Of course, she had just the name up her sleeve. The Bubba Mike!

“There’s a guy,” she told me, “who eats it three times a week.” She paused. “For lunch.”

La Caraquena

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Northern Virginia, kind of a non-place with no actual towns, just areas, is a dynamite place to eat. To eat anything. Except maybe soup dumplings. I have not seen them around here. Arepas, something delicious I have only found in NYC to date, are here, in Falls Church, just a skip of a drive from DC, and Falls Church is a town, sorta.
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La Caraqueña is in a grievous little motel and I like that. Snugged in with white curlicue iron work.  Inside, corn flour walls, ultramarine booths and a waiter with a head of hair so gorgeously black and sleek it could have been made of petroleum.

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When was the last time you saw arepas on a menu? Right. Me neither.

Keith at Caraquena

Goes down nicely with beer. The beers here are not your typical beers.
Cristal (Peru)
Suprema (El Salvador)
Palma Louca (Brasil)
Xingu Black Beer (Brasil)
See?

photo

Diputado

Briskly sautéed sirloin slivers under a runny-yolked fried egg, tomato and caramelized onions.

Quick! Name three things that are not improved by a fried egg. Thought so, I can’t do it either.

arepa

Sifrina

Chicken salad with lots of avocado and a cloud of shredded cheese. 

Keith chose fried not grilled. Ahhh Repahhhhh was it good. Slippery little devil too. Greased lightening. NOW I get it, why a person might dream of an arepa.

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Miércoles Gigante

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The hoisting of the torta was surprisingly invigorating. Whew, it was heavy. Like, super heavy.

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All that stuff was in there, but it did not stay in there. Bits and pieces shot out onto my shoes, lap, arms, face. I believe the carne asada was the most egregious offender, although I can’t be sure.

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This half – a half bigger than most wholes – went home.

Taco Bamba Taqueria

Taco Bamba Tacqueria is in a little strip mall that notes all the mini-mall touchstones – karate studio, rug store, closed dry-cleaner – just behind the Tyson’s Corner Whole Foods. It’s a snap to reach off 66.

My hope is that Victor Albisu will choose South Arlington (my home) for a location to be opened soon. We could lug a torta on our shoulders and have a ‘hood feast. Bring your saw.