Tips and tricks for making the best sandwiches at home.
Call a food a stoner's delight and you connote wild flavor combinations and envelope-pushing methods of preparation. (My own platonic ideal of the genre is a tower of vanilla wafer, chocolate chip cookie dough, Nutella, and a pretzel.) Arguably, the most delightful aspect of the cuisine is the way in which it haphazardly throws random ingredients together for an end product that, at least to the eater, is greater than the sum of its parts.
In a way, JoeDough's Stoner's Delight ($7) fits the bill.* With an abundance of cheese—American, cheddar, queso blanco—stuffed between two thick slices of challah, it requires a degree of gluttony that most sober people simply do not possess. While that's not a bad thing, we suggest splitting it with a friend or two. (One person remarked that, if he ate the whole thing under the influence, he'd get paranoid about going into cardiac arrest.) So full is this sandwich that the cross-section itself is toasted directly on the griddle; the result works structurally to contain the gooeyness within and adds a bonus cheesy crust. The tomatillo sauce on the side is clearly just lip service; even with all that grease, you're better off without it.
* In further solidarity with its target demographic, JoeDough runs a special every Friday from 4:20 p.m. to 8:40 p.m. (ahem, for 4 hours and 20 minutes) during which time the sandwich is $4.20. Rad, if not subtle.
As described by the menu, the Stoner's Delight is a "serious upgrade of the sad old grilled cheese," and that's once place where we take issue. Was there ever a stoner who felt that the average grilled cheese was sad? That said, this grilled three-cheese would be sure to satisfy one. And us sober sandwich-eaters, too.
Update 2/11/2014: The owners send word that JoeDough is closing to focus on private events catering, but they hope to add this sandwich to the menu of their new restaurant, Joe & Misses Doe.