Back in October I created a breakfast sandwich called the Filipino Elvis. It consisted of Lily’s Peanut Butter and bananas on toasted péigēn miànbāo, or “bacon bread,” from New Fully Bakery. Sadly that Elmhurst bakery no longer makes the wedge of spiral bread filled with bacon and slightly sweet pork floss. The sweetness of the Filipino peanut butter and the smokey, salty bacon and sweet pork floss made for a great start to the day.
I’ve been eating bananas and Lily’s on white toast for breakfast for months, but it’s just not the same sandwich as the Filipino Elvis. And then I came across some Bolivian beef floss, and thus was born the Bolivian Elvis. The crunchy salty strands of meat play very well with the banana and peanut butter. They also make a great topping for congee, another of my favorite breakfasts.
By now you’re probably wondering where I happened upon Bolivian beef floss. First of all I should point out that it’s called charquekan. It’s made from beef that’s dried for three days, boiled, beaten with a mallet until it frays, and finally crisped up in a hot pan. I owe this discovery to fellow food nerd and ace Instagrammer snackwithsue who turned me on to Puerta Del Sol, a Bolivian restaurant in Woodside this past weekend.
The restaurant’s owner Jose Sanchez told us that Bolivians from as far away Virginia come to at the delicacy. It is a veritable mountain of meat floss atop hominy corn kept company by two hard boiled eggs, two wedges of quesillo cheese, and a potato. I enjoyed the dish but there was so much of it, that I took the better part of the plate home. Somehow, I knew I’d find a use for it. I’m glad my hunch was right!
Puerta Del Sol, 67-03 Woodside Ave., Woodside, 718-685-2087
Delicias Caleña No. 2, a tiny bakery whose awning proclaims “100% Colombiano,” is wedged between a North Indian and a South Indian restaurant in a part of Jackson Heights better known for halal butchers and Tibetan momo parlors than Colombian bakeries. It’s the type of spot I love to duck into in the morning for a cup of coffee and a buñuelo—the golden fried cheesy orb—or, if I’m feeling a bit hungrier an arepa con queso and a hunk of chicharron. The subject of today’s post isn’t Colombian breakfast though, it’s American breakfast. One that’s near and dear to the heart of New York City folks, the bacon egg and cheese sandwich.
“It’s the best,” my buddy Jeff Orlick, who lives just down the street has been telling me for years. “They make the bread and they deep fry the bacon.” Soggy bacon has turned me more into a sausage and cheese man, so after having lunch around the corner from Delicias with Jeff last week I made a point to finally try this sandwich.
I was prepared to be disappointed for I’m well aware that in this age of Instagram and a constant hunger to feed the interwebs the very best X, expectation often far exceeds reality. All that said it was actually the best bacon egg and cheese I have eaten in Jackson Heights, and certainly the best one from a Colombian bakery.
Perhaps it was the fact that eggs were scrambled, and the bacon was crispy, and the fresh roll definitely played a huge part. More likely though it was the novelty of finding the sandwich in such unfamiliar surroundings. I may just have another for lunch today. For the record, my favorite sausage and egg breakfast sandwich remains Maialino’s spendy cotechino on a pecorino biscuit. Delicias Caleña No. 2, 35-68 73rd St, Jackson Heights
Breakfast is usually a simple affair at Chez Joe. A strong cup of coffee with a sweet Chinese bun and perhaps a banana works just fine. The other day though I paired my potassium booster with a savory Chinese bread, péigēn miànbāo, the infamous “bacon bread,” from New Fully Bakery. The wedge of spiral bread is filled with a double dose of pork in the form of salty, smokey bacon and slightly sweet pork floss.
On that particular morning said spiral was getting stale, so I warmed it up in the toaster oven. Then I remembered I had a jar of sweet Lily’s Filipino peanut butter. Thus was born the Filipino Elvis sandwich. It was a salty sweet, and, I suppose marginally healthy way to start the day. Since I now live around the corner from New Fully I’ve begun to wonder if they’ll sell me a whole loaf and whether I should make a gigantic bacon bread grilled cheese.
The signature roast beef sandwich topped with cheese sauce and raw onions is worth a trip to Sheepshead Bay, Brookyn.
Even though I’ve made a career out of hating on Brooklyn in favor of Queens, my roots lie in the County of Kings where parents grew up. Perhaps my DNA makes me a sucker for the borough’s old-school neighborhoods and their culinary institutions. Today’s post is not about a certain antediluvian steakhouse in Williamsburg, but a rather another purveyor of meaty marvels: Roll ’n Roaster, a 50 year-old establishment that built its reputation on a rather sumptuous roast beef sandwich.
I was two years old in 1970 when Buddy Lamonica founded the Sheepshead Bay roast beef sandwich specialist whose slogan “We’re not so fast, Roll ’n Roaster,” became a staple of New York City late night TV in the 1970s. I didn’t grow up eating Lamonica’s creation—a glorious sandwich of thinly shaved roast beef drenched with gravy and topped with cheese sauce—that one of the restaurants many, many signs touts as “PERFECTION ON A ROLL,” but I wish I had. Instead we had Roy Rogers Roast Beef with horsey sauce. Imagine the greatness I would have achieved had I cut my teeth on Roll ’n Roaster instead of Roy’s! (more…)
I recently had the pleasure of previewing the new menu from George Landin’s Corona Diner. Landin opened the diner—a love letter to Queens whose decor features references to nearby Flushing Meadows Corona Park and a mural with a who’s who of Queens luminaries from Malcolm X and Louis Armstrong to Action Bronson and LL Cool J. Landin’s new menu is also a love letter to the diversity of Queens with items like a Mexican-inspired elote hot dog and an Ecuadorean ceviche.
It also features a roster of decadent hamburgers like one topped with mac and cheese and crumbled bacon and another whose buns are grilled cheese sandwiches. Those were all quite tasty, but my favorite item of the night was a somewhat more restrained number called the dia despues.(more…)
“You finally went,” my friend Greg, one half of the dynamic duo that is Food & Footprints, commented on an Instagram post of a Peruvian picarone—a lovely sweet potato and squash donut—at the Antojitos Doña Fela cart in Jackson Heights. I’d been trying to visit the Vendy nominated Peruvian snack specialist for weeks, but until last Sunday had missed the cart, which is open from 1 p.m. to 5 p.m. only weekends.
“Do you have chicharron con camote?” I asked Doña Fela’s daughter, about the pork belly and sweet potato sandwich that’s a common breakfast in Peru. “Let me see, we might be sold out,” she said while I hungrily eyed a bunch of pork belly and camote, or sweet potato, sizzling on a corrugated cast iron grill. “One last order,” she said. (more…)
El Chivito’s namesake steak sandwich doesn’t appear on the menu.
“Skirt steak, sweetbreads, chicken, matambre,” the server intoned as my eyes glazed over while she recited a roster of sandwiches. “What about chivito?” I inquired after the Uruguayan national sandwich. “Yes, we have, it’s really good, you can get it with chicken or vacio,” she replied adding that the flap steak is butterflied.
“Para mi, vacio,” I replied wondering what sort of joyless individual would possibly disgrace the country’s national sandwich by ordering it with poultry. While I waited for lunch I perused the menu of El Chivito De Oro noting that the national sandwich was nowhere to be found. Secret sandwiches are catnip to a certain type of food writer, and I am that type. I was pretty hungry, so I was quite pleased to see that the rosy colored beef was topped with ham, mozzarella, bacon, and a fried egg, all cradled in a puffy brioche style bun that held a base layer of lettuce and tomato.
Lobster rolls have come to Jackson Heights, thanks to Farine!
I’m not typically a brunch guy, but I’ve been known to make exceptions. M. Wells for one with Hugue Dufour’s decadent creations like foie gras and oatmeal, and now Farine. I’ve been meaning to try the lobster roll from the brunch menu, but I’m averse to weekend crowds.
On Monday night I stopped by to introduce a friend to Michael Mignano, the man behind the hot new Jackson Heights eatery. I’d forgotten it was the last night of Ramadan and the last night of Farine’s Iftar dinners. Every table was filled with joyous Muslim families all tucking into spicy fried chicken sandwiches and fruit plates.
“We’re going to have it tomorrow as part of an EID brunch,” Mignano told me when I asked about the lobster roll, which I’d been seeing on the gram for weeks.
As food writer I’m often loathe to throw around superlatives even though I’ve been called upon by Grub Street to do so in recent months. All that said, I have no problem calling the spicy buttermilk chicken sandwich at the newish Farine Baking Company in Jackson Heights the best fried chicken between bread in Queens.
At $16 Chef Michael Mignano’s chicken sandwich is isn’t cheap, but it’s worth every penny. It’s insanely crunchy and juicy and packs a nice kick from a Sriracha honey glaze. It is a gloriously messy sandwich requiring removal of both wristwatch and rings. The secret behind this marvel is twofold: first the chicken thighs luxuriate in a mixture of buttermilk, fresh thyme, rosemary and garlic for two days. Then they’re fried twice first at 325 to seal in the juices and then at 375 to get a nice crust.
If this method sounds a lot like Korean fried chicken, that’s because Mignano borrowed the technique. “I’m not using a Korean chili paste, but I am borrowing the double fry technique and the breading mixture is very similar,” he said. For the record his favorite KFC can be had at the H Mart off Route 100 in Hartsdale. Farine Baking Company, 74-24 37th Ave., Jackson Heights
Behold, the mighty Tortas Chivas, CDMX’s answer to the NYC breakfast sandwich.
“They’re all pretty big,” I said to two recent guests on a World’s Fare Eating Along the 7 food tour. We were about an hour into our trek and had already enjoyed delicacies from Joe’s Steam Rice Roll and Soybean Chen and had just arrived at Tortas Neza, which specializes in comically huge Mexican sandwiches. I was doing my best to steer the two ladies toward a carnitas taco, but l knew they really wanted a sandwich.
The gargantuan 7-ingredient Tortas Puma named for the owner’s favorite Mexican soccer team was out of the question. So I scanned the roster of 20 creations, each named for a different team, and settled on the Chivas, which listed only three ingredients: huevo, quesillo, and chorizo.
As Galdino “Tortas” Neza prepared the sausage omelet on the plancha I told the guests it represented just one component of his biggest sandwich. “We can handle this one, it’ll be like a Mexican breakfast sandwich,” I said with a chuckle. (more…)