Perk Me Up

This stop on the Club Sandwich Tour comes down to one question: Do you like avocado?

If you do (and I do! I do! I do!) then this is the sandwich for you.

The "Tenth Ward Turkey" is all about slippery green avocado coming together with crisp, salty, smoky bacon in a delicious sandwich.

There's turkey here, too, and Swiss cheese and enough leafy lettuce to make you feel that you're getting a serving of veggies in, even before you get to the yummy (and healthy!) corn-and-bean salad. The bread, I'm sorry to say, was just ordinary. But they offer this sandwich as a wrap, too. Might be worth a try.

Club Sandwich & Deli

Remember that advertising jingle that went “Have it your way…”? Well, of course, what it truly meant was: If what you want is a mass-produced burger on an insubstantial bun, then you can have your choice of condiments on it.

And that’s unfortunate, because after visiting Club Sandwich and Deli in Sharpsburg, I’ve been running around joyously singing, “have it your way!” and meaning it.

Club Sandwich and Deli lets you design the club sandwich of your dreams. Lots of places make sandwiches to order, but this set-up is special. The menu emphasizes double (or triple!) -decker sandwiches. Bacon is included.

Let me say that again. Bacon is included. Like, it is assumed that your sandwich is going to have bacon on it.

In addition to the bacon, you pick two kinds of meat. And cheese, if you want it.

I got the turkey club—turkey and turkey and bacon, lettuce, tomato, on white bread, green frill picks, and the most delicious, amazing, playfully sweet-yet-tangy, fresh-tasting, crisp pickle slices I’ve had in a very long time.

The turkey was fresh and layered on generously, but without making the sandwich too huge and daunting.

See that little vat of sauce, lower left? That is horseradish-rosemary sauce. Delicious, smooth and sweet. I thought it was a classy touch.

Dunning's Grill

“I’ll have what she’s having.”

If only I’d said that.
Instead, I said, “I’d like the chicken club.”
And this is what I got.
A delicious sandwich, to be sure, but not a club. No way, no how.

Dunnings has three “clubs” listed on its menu. And I saw someone at an adjacent table eating a club-looking club sandwich—double-decker, lettuce, tomato, etc. She must have known what to order. Counterintuitively, not the Chicken Club. The “Chicken Club” is a chicken breast, topped with bacon and melted provolone and served warm on a fluffy white bun. No frill picks, no veggies, no toast, nothing in common with a club sandwich, except the bacon.

This anti-club wasn’t bad. In fact, for a non-club-sandwich sandwich, it was pretty tasty. The bacon was plentiful, slightly chewy, cozy warm. The cheese was melty in the middle, grilled-crispy on the sides. The chicken itself was moist. I think it really could have used some lettuce and tomato, but that might just be my club-sandwich wistfulness speaking.