On our way back from La Isla (of which more soon), we saw a billboard that was more of a threat than any billboard I can recall, telling us that the ONLY place to eat at Guy's Burger Joint
was on a Carnival Cruise ship. To put it in a more upbeat, glass half full kind of way, all you have to do to avoid Guy's Burger Joint is to continue your sensible policy of avoiding Carnival Cruise ships. Would that all problems were so easy to solve!
You can peep the menu here, which is impressively concise, compared to the infamous Times Square Fieri jawn. That said, both "donkey sauce" and "rojo ring" somehow take on an ominous connotation at sea.
And speaking of cruising, interesting to see the resonances between Pacino's getup above and Fieri's below.
Given that downtown restaurants tend toward pro-Romney baroque trainwrecks like Soby's, or earnest but dreary farm-to-table bandwagoneers like American Grocery, it's no wonder there's a move to keep interesting food purveyors like Neue Southern far away.
While you wait for the UPS man to bring your Sweet & Sassy Mix, you might give this giardiniera receipt from G&G a whirl. The Cochon muffaletta is the truth, and may, in some situations, edge out the legendary Central Grocery standardbearer. Some of these situations would include wanting to sit down while you eat, having this sandwich on a Sunday, etc. The puree at the end seems smoother than you want, but in terms of sandwich architecture, makes some sense.
As for the title of this post, some may wonder - is it still the G-Funk Era? Until Warren G tells us different, the G-Funk Era it remains:
It is, as it happens, the key ingredient in the Only Sandwich That Matters, commonly termed the Muffuletta or Muffaletta. That guy who rapped w/DJ Code Money spelled his name different ways too. To create the muffuletta not on Decatur St, and indeed, not even in the 504, would be a literally Promethian feat, if Prometheus had had the good sense to steal a delicious and robust sandwich from the gods.