I will be in Omaha soon, a first visit to Nebraska, and understand that the Reuben sandwich might have originated there. There is no disputing the brilliance of the Reuben’s construction. Frankly, I cannot imagine the path to the Reuben but will take a stab at it.
Corned beef and rye begets
Corned beef on rye with cheese begets
Corned beef on rye with cheese and Russian dressing begets
Corned beef on rye with cheese and Russian dressing. And sauerkraut? Huh? Sauerkraut? No lie, sauerkraut is delicious but, I swear, someone had sauerkraut in excess (of course because…cabbage) and thought it could be hidden behind CORNED BEEF, RYE, CHEESE AND RUSSIAN DRESSING because, without a doubt, a GIANT Louis Vuitton bag could be hidden behind CORNED BEEF, RYE, CHEESE AND RUSSIAN DRESSING. The bag would be eaten – lock, stock and barrel – almost without notice, so yeah, let’s unload a mess o’ kraut while we’re at it. And the world pivoted on its axis.
Booeymonger – speaking of being unable to imagine a path, I cannot imagine the path to that name, Booeymonger. Must sleuth. The original Booeymonger – tiny, on a side-street, open very late, oh-so-intriguing to a wandering teen – had the Guruben on it’s menu, a sandwich name on par with the Teuben (a Reuben in a casing, sausage-style at Hot Doug’s in Chicago), as well as the Vegetarrorist at Cafe Clementine (so clever, so not-scary when it was conceived, funny, so funny, and now not, damnit!) Booeymonger, to this day, lists the Patty Hearst on its menu. How now, provolow? The Patty Hearst but no Guruben? What wokeness has got by me?
The Lunch Encounter 