Esquire takes a break from sweating Chang and Giadia, repents throwing New Orleans under the bus, and shows some love in its list of the best sandwiches in America. There is room for quarrel,* to be sure, but the list is eclectic enough that one is bound to have a favorite show up somewhere on the list. This is literally, sevice journalism -- would that I had this list in my pocket last week in Miami, when I walked past The Sandwicherie en route to a mediocre $18 Cuban sandwich at a hotel bar. (The quixotic search for a Cuban sandwich in Miami as good as the one at the Montrose continues. Granted, I had other stuff to do, but there was not much to choose between the $6 sandwich at the real Careta on Calle Ocho, and the $18 one poolside at the Raleigh. Evidently, one pays a premium for eating your sandwich in the company of Anglos in two-piece swimsuits -- but I am not confident this represents a good value.
*Jim Economides would be with in his rights to be saying "Esquire Magazine, why hast thou forsaken me?"
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