Thank you for reviving this thread. Good to see The Faz show restraint here and not put in a waterfall of some sauce, though it sounds like it could’ve used something to soften the bread.
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my take? they should just use way more butter when toasting the bread. but. cant fault them for trying to execute a club with artisanal style bread here.
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This thread needs more action throughout the year. Thanks for bringing it back!
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I can’t eat a clubhouse when it’s cold outside. Just feels wrong.
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Calling this a club is a small step above making a banana bread, cottage cheese, pastrami sandwich, which would severely ruin a reputation.
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There’s a first time for everything.
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Reviving an oldie thread but a goodie thread.
Trying my club’s… club.
The good: $15 in this economy at a country club. Very, very happy with the amount of turkey. And also very happy that I didn’t have to request no ham as there’s none of that garbage meat by default. Based on the turkey, I would have appreciated another slice or two of cheese. Bacon was crispy and delicious. And to top it all off… devine tater tots on the side.
The bad: I know a true club has a middle layer of bread. But this is too much bread for my personal taste. If you are going to go 3 slices of bread, you’ve got to have thinner slices. The bread was a mouthful. That being said, it did scrape the roof of my mouth so the toasting of the bread was perfection.
Overall, I’m going to give this club a 7.3. It’s getting dinged for the size of the bread, and no frilly toothpicks.
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But more importantly, how were the tots?
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Ehhhhhh, I hate that you bring this up. They were fine. Slightly undercooked, but tots are still good regardless.
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That thing has so much turkey you could easily remove the middle slices of bread and make a spare turkey sandwich.
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Excuse you… this is the proper amount of turkey.
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Got a Bourdain cookbook for Christmas, and while flipping through I found some writing that needed to be shared here (apologies for the novel in advance):
A sandwich is a beautiful thing—one of the great innovations of modern history. It freed us from the tyranny of the plate, the table, the knife and fork. Between two slices of bread exist near-limitless possibilities for deliciousness.
But no matter how tasty or outrageous, how juicy or flavorful, and no matter how engorged with meat, sandwiches remain a delivery system for their fillings. The purpose of the sandwich, like a hamburger, is to effectively deliver protein or other stuff to your mouth without a fork. Structure, texture, and proportion are as central to the success or failure of the sandwich as its taste.
…
It is for this reason that I declare the beloved American classic, the club sandwich, to be America’s Enemy, a menu item that perfectly encapsulates all the principles of Bad Sandwich Theory.Who invented the club sandwich, anyway? America’s enemies, for sure. The club predates Al Qaeda—but it fits that group’s MO. Mission: Destroy America. Method: Sap the will to live of ordinary Americans—by repeatedly fucking up their lunch.
Maybe it was the Nazis. Didn’t they invent, like methadone? And ephedra? The club sandwich was an even more evil idea.
What’s wrong with it, you ask?
What’s wrong with turkey or chicken breast, some crispy bacon slices, lettuce, and tomato on a sandwich? (And yes, adding a fried egg surely makes it only better.) How could any sandwich containing these delightful ingredients be a bad thing?
Where does the club go wrong? I’ll tell you.
It’s that third slice of bread. What’s it doing there? It’s the fifth column of sandwich elements, lurking silently and entirely uselessly, in the middle of an otherwise respectable sandwich—until it can strike.
The entire club sandwich concept is fucked from the get-go. It’s a sandwich designed to look good on a plate—after you’ve stuck extra-long frilly toothpicks into it an cut it into quarters. It’s designed for eye appeal, and edibility be damned. Because as soon as you bite into that fucker, your teeth crush into the top and bottom layers of bread, compacting together the meat layers and the lettuce and tomato layers and that stupid extra slice of bread and, like in a collapsing building, anything soft is gonna get squished. The slippery tomato, unmoored by Russian dressing or mayonnaise, is sliding right out of the party along with the bacon, leaving you with a soggy turkey sandwich, a disproportionately double-thick top layer of bread, and a plate full of broken dreams.
That third slice of bread was put there to look good. They don’t care about you. But I do. So please: Continue to make your club sandwiches. Just leave out that third slice.
tl;dr club sandwiches are your enemy and should only be approached or created with severe caution. also inb4 “happy for u tho or sorry that happened”
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This warms my cold heart to see this thread still going. I promise to update this year!
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We have missed you.
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I promised, and now I will deliver.
I had a nice night out with my wonderful wife, and those who know us know that we love a good casino night. I’m an Emerald Queen guy, but my wife is a “Biggest and Best in the Northwest” Muckelshoot kind of girl.
I wanted to get my WMO and Superbowl bets in, so we decided to dine at the sportsbook. Over the years, I’ve converted my wife into a club sandwich lover, so we have our own banter about who’s good and what a real club sandwich is.
I got the wings, but she got the club sandwich. Side note: My wife doesn’t like tomatoes, so I sometimes have to judge food based on the absence of my favorite ingredient. She asked for light toast, and to my surprise, they brought out a traditional, perfectly stacked, and quartered club sandwich.
Overall it was really good. They didn’t skimp on the protein. They cheese didn’t taste packaged and it had the perfect amount of condiments. Over all 7.3
Apparently I can’t add pics anymore.
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