The lamb itself was salty and a bit fatty—chewy in some parts, tender in others, altogether quite tasty. (On one visit, it was much tougher than the next.) It pairs perfectly with a tangy mint jelly; it picks up a crisp from the pappadam. But throw in a thin layer of peanut butter, and things get funky—saltier, creamier, but confused by a savory element that masks the lamb's gaminess without adding much of its own. There's little enough that it doesn't really get in the way, but consensus was, it may have been better without.
Imitation lobster roll
Well-seasoned, super-shredded, and soaked through with a very gingery mayonnaise, No. 7 managed to make imitation lobster impressively tasty. The candied wasabi, though, was a bit of a puzzle—just like it sounds, both sweet and sinus-cleansing. Though the wasabi itself added a nice bit of heat, and the candied element made it a distinctive, fascinating ingredient, the sweetness drew so much attention to itself that in each sweet-spicy bite, one could think about nothing else. We thought the wasabi may have been a better background note.
One of our favorite sandwiches, and also one of the simplest: thick slices of crispy, tender eggplant, melty Fontina, squash puree, and barbecue potato chips that added appealing salt, crunch, and spice, rather than competing with other strong flavors.
One of our favorites, though you never forget you're eating a sandwich of broccoli. The veggies were cooked just through, still crispy, paired with a punchy and delicious Thai pesto, noticeably fresh mozzarella, and a thin slice of crunchy fried lemon. One base ingredient, one cheese, one spread, and a memorable flavor burst—on this list, it was a simple sandwich, and one of the best.
We like ceviche; we also liked this ceviche, when we got a bite on its own, and we were pretty impressed by the way the leche de tigre mayo picked up the flavors of the ceviche marinade, turning an otherwise impossible sandwich topping into the possible. But covered in avocado and cucumber and onion and fried hominy, and a little gloppier than we would have liked, the flavors ended up emerging only as sweet and sour—somewhat indistinct.
Ample and meaty, with thin slices of gouda cheese; crushed blueberries bring a sweetness that's gentle, not overwhelming. We loved it.
It's not like any Cuban you've ever had, but we'll take it; this sandwich is phenomenal. A double hit of turkey—tender, well-salted breast, plus an intensely savory layer of brined wing and thigh. (If you've never quite gotten your head about the word "umami," take a bite of the dark meat and you'll understand.) It gets a sharp crunch from daikon and a slow, creeping heat from Chinese mustard.
New to the menu, it's one of the simpler sandwiches, and one of the better: a classic onion- and olive-flecked tuna salad with just enough salty feta and a sprinkle of oregano. And we'd take these super-pickled beets over standard pickles any day.