Eisenberg's Sandwich Shop

If you heart New York, I've got a restaurant for you. It's not fancy, trendy, or swank, but it has that classic New York swagger only a joint that has been around since the Great Depression can pull off. In fact, its menu (and t-shirts) claim it has been "Raising New York's Cholesterol Since 1929." The place is Eisenberg's Sandwich Shop, and it is a diner in the Flatiron District with a chalkboard out front that reads, "You either get it, or you don't." Ain't it the troof.

A long, slim space, Eisenberg's is dominated by the counter before opening into a small dining area at the back. Two-tops line the wall opposite the counter, and patrons must be careful not to brush a diner's egg cream onto the floor as they make their way to their own table. The counter stools of course face the open grills, so if you order "The Eisen-Burger," you may watch the half-pound of freshly ground sirloin cook to perfection right before thine eyes.

Sandwiches are unsurprisingly available at the aptly named sandwich shop, and they include all the classics from peanut butter and jelly to liverwurst to a corned beef or pastrami Reuben. Soup, omelets, and platters are options as well and span Manhattan clam chowder (Friday only) to cold borscht, "The LEO" (lox, eggs, and onions) to "The Shmoopie" (egg whites, tomato, onion, and cream cheese), and chicken salad to hot brisket with gravy, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. There really aren't many shockers at this old school establishment, unless the idea of pairing tuna fish with egg salad blows your mind - and if that's the case, honeyboodle, it's time to set down the saltines and live a little.

Go to Eisenberg's Sandwich Shop with that friend who works across the street at the Flatiron Building, your neighbor who once mentioned liking fried salami, or your Nana who grew up in Brooklyn and remembers when this $2.50 knish used to cost five cents. She'll wear a fur turban throughout the meal, and you'll squabble over who gets to pay the bill - it'll be fun!

Eisenberg's Sandwich Shop - 174 Fifth Avenue, between West 22nd & 23rd Streets

No. 7 Sub

The most basic of meals might be a sandwich and soda - unless you're picking it up from No. 7 Sub, in which case your lunch just got straight up cray cray. Broccoli with fresh mozzarella, thai basil pesto, and fried lemon? Roast beef with chimichurri, hummus, and potato chips? Speck with brussel sprouts, pickled blueberries, and mayo? What's happening? I'm scared!

Shhh, lamb. It's ok. Have a sip of the hibiscus ginger ale and relax.

Located in the somewhat recently opened Ace Hotel, the even recentlierer opened sandwich shop is from the same team that brought you Brooklyn's No. 7. Since they are alums of the French Culinary Institute and the respected kitchens of Jean Georges, The Modern, and Perry St, you might trust that these chefs and pastry chefs know what they're doing. Then again, you might not, but that's on you and your trust issues.

The bread is baked off-site in a bakery in Crown Heights, which was opened solely for the purpose of making No. 7 Sub's bread and the syrups for their homemade sodas. Soda flavors include berry-lime rickey, maple cream, and the aforementioned hibiscus ginger ale. They are subject to change, however, just as the sandwich options (some available for breakfast too) come and go on the chef's whim.

Also available are half moon cookies, which are similar in concept to New York's black-and-white cookies though with a chocolate cake-like base and frosting instead of icing (psst, Colgate students of the past, present, and future - they're just like those found at The Barge). No. 7 Sub also offers special half moon flavors on occasion such as brown sugar.

So, it must be stated there is no place to sit in No. 7 Sub. Given all the patrons standing in the small area, reading the menu options posted over the counter, and ordering from the cashier, it's not the worst thing to have to enjoy your meal elsewhere. Thankfully, the lobby of the Ace Hotel is right around the corner, or the tables by Madison Square Park and the Flatiron Building are a few blocks south. Come winter, outdoor seating will not be my first choice, but lamb, perhaps you're made of heartier stock than I.

No. 7 Sub - 1188 Broadway, between West 28th & West 29th Streets (in Ace Hotel)

Myers of Keswick

Hey, so you know how you're a British ex-pat? Not a lot of you? Oh. Ok, remember how you followed that punk band around England for two years in the 90s while working on-and-off in a Dr. Martens store and making jewelry out of safety pins? None of you? Right. Well, you've had tea before, yes? Phew. Then you are familiar with goods and food enjoyed in merry old England. Several posts ago, I mentioned I had quite a bit to say about a few more-special-than-your-average-deli delis, so this next one should appeal to anyone seeking York in New York - Manchester in Manhattan - the West End in the West Village - and other plays on words. This is Myers of Keswick - a place that offers British food, bold claims, violent yet charming advice, and Molly the cat. Read on.

Opened in 1985, Myers of Keswick is a shop that sells homemade as well as boxed, canned, bagged, and wrapped food to be eaten elsewhere, as there is no seating inside. The deli case displays the likes of pork pies, Cornish pasties (pronounced "pass-tees"...says the American), scotch eggs, sausage rolls, and curry lamb pies. It is also where they keep their bangers, pork/leek/ginger sausage, black pudding, Irish bacon, and Cumberland sausage. According to the store's website, "These are the only authentic Cumberland sausages made in the USA." That is a statement I cannot verify, but I applaud the immodesty.

The floor to ceiling shelves contain beans, peas, biscuits, teas, crisps, juices, condiments, sodas, baking products, soups, jams, candies, cereals, and basically anything else you might desire. Brands include Heinz, Branston, Weetabix, McVitie's, Sarson's, Baxters, HP, Vimto, Cadbury, and on and on. If you have trouble finding what you want, just ask the staff. On one occasion, when I inquired after toffee and digestive cookies, the man behind the counter correctly inferred I would be making banoffee pie. With his delightful English accent, he suggested which cookies to use, quelled my fears of boiling cans of condensed milk, and advised that when it comes to making the crust, I should, "Kill it with buh-uh." Of course, "buh-uh" meant "butter," and of course, I repeated that phrase to anyone who would listen for the next four days.

Upon entering Myers of Keswick, you will find a black and white tiled floor, that deli case to your left, those stocked shelves to your right, refrigerated items behind glass and wood cabinet-style doors at the back of the room, items like mugs, t-shirts, baby onesies, and flags behind the counter, and Molly the cat lounging around. You may have already heard of Molly, seen her on tv, or read about her in such publications as the New York Times. In the Spring of 2006, she managed to trap herself in the wall for two weeks, drawing crowds of concerned cat-lovers, pet psychics, members of the media, and ultimately, rescuers. I don't even want to know what she ate in the walls to survive, but I am sure it was less appetizing than the shop's chicken and mushroom pie.

So head over to Myers of Keswick when you are hungry for a scone (available in plain or raisin, with or without clotted cream and jam), when you want homemade mince pie at the holidays, or when you are feeling nostalgic for those days of punk in pub basements. Still no on that last one? Fine.

Myers of Keswick - 634 Hudson Street, between Horatio & Jane Streets

Lamazou

This was initially intended to be a post about several more-special-than-your-average-deli delis, but I realized I had more-rambling-than-your-average-blurb to say about each. Without further delay, it is time to discuss the first of the few: Lamazou and all its amazingness.

Lamazou used to present itself as a cheese shop - and it is. With a rumored cheese cave in the basement and a display case full of camembert, epoisse, comte, robiola, cheddar, reblochon, brie, smoked gouda, manchego, herbed goat, gorgonzola dolce, vacherain, stilton, havarti, and so much more, it certainly covers the cheese spectrum. However, as indicated by Lamazou's relatively new sign out front, there is more to this gem than a lactose intolerant's nightmare. It now additionally and appropriately advertises itself with words like "sandwiches," "catering," and "gift basket."

For starters, there's the meat. A refrigerated case behind the cheese display houses a large enough assortment to slake your thirst for various cured proteins for years to come. From spicy sopressata to garlic sausage, serrano ham to proscuitto di parma, mortadella to genoa salami, roast beef to bresaola, french ham to chorizo, there's something for every taste. More of a poultry fan? They offer honey turkey, roast turkey, smoked turkey, grilled chicken, and buffalo chicken.

"Yeah, but I can get a turkey sandwich anywhere," you say.
"True, but how about smoked duck breast? Venison pate? Truffle liver mousse?" I retort.
"Ew," you say.
"I just meant they have more than your typical corner bodega. Feel free to order whatever makes you happy," I explain.
"I see. Let's never fight again," you say. And we lived happily ever after.

Beyond the cheese and meat, Lamazou also offers salads, Mediterranean selections (such as tabbouli, humus, babaghannouj, and stuffed grape leaves), grilled vegetables, marinated vegetables, cole slaw, tuna fish, smoked salmon, and egg salad laced with strong roquefort (Something that is better to know beforehand than to be surprised by after the first bite. I promise).

All of the above options may be combined in whatever manner you see fit to make hearty sandwiches on a variety of freshly baked breads (including baguettes, ciabatta, pumpernickel rolls, multi-grain rolls, sliced rye, and semolina) with or without dressings, garnish, or condiments (such as horseradish, cornichons, pesto, or simply lettuce and tomato). Suggestions of well-crafted Lamazou sandwiches may be found on Lamazou's website, and they (as well as any other sandwich you create) may be ordered as a half ($4.90-$5.95) or whole ($7.75-$9.99) portion. Lunch specials are offered from 11:00am to 3:00pm, which include soup (selection changes daily) and a sandwich. Grab a Pellegrino from the refrigerator, a box of dried apricots near the register, and don't be surprised when your coworkers ask, "Wheredja get that?" (I don't know why they're asking so inarticulately either).

Maybe you are not interested in a vast cheese selection, meats from around the world, or enough vegetarian side dishes to keep your crunchy visitor from San Francisco sated. Maybe you would like some imported goodies to remind you of your trip to London (Hob Nobs, Ribena, and Heinz Salad Cream, perhaps), to recreate your favorite Parisian crepe at home (a jar of Nutella, bien sur), or to finish off that antipasti plate you are planning for dinner (tuna stuffed olives should do the trick). Lamazou offers shelves upon shelves of gourmet delights from tea to caviar to jam to truffle oil to biscuits.

So stop by this sliver of a storefront when you are hungry for a meal on the go (as there is no seating at Lamazou). Send a thank you to your in-laws after a weekend at their country home (from the gift basket menu or by filling a hand-picked decorative basket hanging over Lamazou's counter with whatever you think they would like best). Drop hints at your next office meeting the boss would prefer a catered Lamazou lunch for her birthday over whatever the jerk from three cubicles over was just suggesting (you know she thinks he's an idiot anyway).

Lamazou - 370 3rd Avenue, between East 26th & East 27th Streets