First of all, the shop is adorable. The menu is hand written (and never actually says ‘Crosby Connection’). The whole endeavor is the concession stand at the theatre and the actual ’sandwich shop’ part is really just a counter for the owner (Joey Cramarossa) to prepare sandwiches. He does each one with a visible amount of love, trying to hurry to keep the line short, but still putting heart into each one. He’s also got this amazing gruff and calm demeanor but this isn’t SimplyAttitudes, so I’ll let you discover that for yourself.

I tried the Suze Special for $7.00: prosciutto, fresh mozzarella, fresh tomatoes, sweet roasted peppers, avocado, basil, virgin olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. I don’t usually appreciate mozzarella in sandwiches, too often it’s just cold and slimy (ever been to Cosi?), but in this case it was room temperature and absolutely beautiful. The bread was fluffy and mild, keeping everything together. The tomato and avocados were perfectly ripe and their combination with thin slices of prosciutto was buttery and amazing.

Next chance I get, I’ll be back to try another. You should too.

It’s got it all:

Ahoy matey, something spotted on the brig:

Thar She Blows:

Delicious, Tender Whale Meat (not really, don’t attack me PETA):

The sandwiches are phenomenal. It’s run as a human business, not a robot business (skynet?): when they run out of ingredients, they don’t serve those sandwiches that day. When you order something, it’s made fresh: you can see the huge chunks of cured meat being trimmed and sliced. To top it off the sandwiches are fantastic combinations of complementary flavors. The smoked turkey and the sweet peppers go perfectly together. The prosciutto and hot peppers and oil mix wonderfully. The bread is chewy and crusty without making you feel like an animal ripping through food with your teeth.

I had the Michelangelo (prosciutto, provolone cheese, hot peppers, arugula for $10.50) and tried my companion’s Marina (smoked chicken breast, fresh mozzarella, sun dried tomatoes, arugula, for $10.50).

Go to Alidoro, it is amazing.

So fresh (and so clean):

Prosciutto heaven:

Thank god there’s another half:

Fresh roasted Marina:

I’m lookin’ at you delicious turkey:

The one I tried was quite good, but nothing to get TOO fanatical about. I tried the Prosciutto di Parma: prosciutto, fresh mozzarella, sliced plum tomatoes, fresh basil and olive oil, served on foccacia ($8.75). The sandwich was a pleasure to eat: the flavors were well balanced, not too salty not too sweet, the bread was soft and fluffy and the mozzarella was just a touch salty (and not cold!). Of course, you have to really like foccacia, because it was very thick; thankfully it was also very fluffy and didn’t overpower the other ingredients at all.

No need to start worshiping, just a good reason to swing by and pick up something tasty.

They’re made with love:

Fresh ‘wich (Kid Robot not included):

Sitting pretty:

Nom nom nom:

I tasted both the Black Forest and the Smart Duck. The bread on both was fantastic, crusty on the outside and soft on the inside. First up, the black forest: smoked prosciutto, brie and roasted peppers with mayo, mustard, lettuce, $10 for a whole. It was amazing. Buttery, smoky and rich. The brie overloaded the flavors a little too much, but it was still delicious.

The Smart Duck (smoked duck breast, brie and cornichons, $10 again) wasn’t as successful. While the bread was just as perfect and the brie was fantastic, the smoked duck breast was served cold. Cold duck breast isn’t very flavorful and just tasted like cold chewy meat. It seemed like good duck, just served way too cold. I think this sandwich would be ama-azing if served with hot duck. It would be double buttery (brie and duck) with salty crunchy cornichons.

Quack quack:

Quack quack:

Quack quack:

Warning: prosciutto inside:

Black forest sitting pretty:

Can you see inside the black forest?

The Reading Terminal Market (1151-1183 Arch Street, Philadelphia, PA) is a food paradise. You’ve got your Amish apple dumplings, Amish pretzels, Amish chicken and waffles, Amish lemonade…there’s a lot of Amish going on (and they make a mean blueberry lemonade, let me tell you). But the Italians represent, too, at DiNic’s. And that’s where you go if you’re a (carnivorous) sandwich lover. DiNic’s has a very short sandwich menu, made even shorter by the fact that the roast pork ($7.00) seems to be the star of the show. Your topping choices are also limited: sharp provolone, greens and roast peppers. Don’t even think about skipping the greens or the cheese ($1.25 for 2 toppings).

My companion and I ordered one sandwich to share, because we weren’t voraciously hungry, yet when it came out we thought they’d misunderstood our order. Each sandwich half was huge, and they were nice enough to split our shared ‘wich into two baskets and give us each our own fork (in case you’re not into grabbing dropped pork bits with your hands). It proved to be the perfect amount of sandwich – and what a sandwich! The perfectly roast pork is moist and tender. The greens (spinach in our case, they sometimes have broccoli rabe instead) are sauteed just enough to be cooked through but not mushy and retain their vibrant color; you’ll find flecks of red pepper and garlic throughout the hulking green mass. And the cheese, oh the cheese. I have never had provolone as sharp as this was, and it worked perfectly to give the sandwich a lot of zing without overpowering the more subtle flavors of the meat and greens. The bread was your standard Italian sandwich bread, soft enough to eat easily but somehow sturdy enough to stand up to the outpouring of meat juice soaking into it with every bite.

In short, if you’re in Philly, you need this sandwich – you won’t miss the cheesesteak.

Not too complicated, but plenty of quality:

So much green goodness:

Close view of the tasty pork:

Simplicity is delicious:

Show up before or after the lunch crush or you’ll have to wait in line. Not that it’s always a bad thing, since you’ll need a minute to read their menu, oggle the array of italian food in the glass cases and watch the break being made in the bakery to the left. After you notice the bakery, you’ll see the text “Your choice of soft or crusty bread” and you know you’re about to get something special. These guys know sandwiches.

We tried three sandwiches, all with the crusty bread:

• Dom’s Special: Classic Italian (pistachio mortadella, provolone, natural casing genoa salami) with the addition of sweet capicola and prosciutto. Served with chopped lettuce, tomato and balsamic vinegar. ($7.99)
• Manzo: house-made garlic roast beef, caramelized onion, Gorgonzola and arugula. ($8.99)
• Lamb Panini: feta, lamb, oregano, lite mayo, diced tomato. ($8.50)

The lamb panini was a daily special and may not be available all the time, it’s okay though, the other two blew it out of the water. The trend for delis serving Italian sandwiches is to stuff them so full of mediocre meats, pre-cut tasteless cheeses and so much chopped lettuce you think you’re eating a salad. Thankfully Domenic knows better. this Italian is pared down to just the right serving size of high-quality essentials cased in soft-and-crusty Italian bread. That means there’s just enough chopped lettuce and tomato to add texture, it never becomes the only texture. This sandwich is a work of art and puts all other Italian sandwiches (and breads) to shame. Compare the photo’s below with your last Italian sandwich. It looks smaller doesn’t it? It looks simpler, more refined, more focused, more delicious!

The Manzo was equally impressive: the roast beef was tender, delicious and perfectly complimented by the onions, cheese and arugula. Like the roast beef from Defonte’s, it was a perfectly-done shade of light pink, not grey, and still incredibly moist! Take a look at the pictures below, you can see it shine and glimmer with tasty morsels in the sunshine. Yum. Just like the Dom’s special, there was just enough arugula to provide texture and not to overwhelm the other flavors. And again, that bread is to die for!

The lamb panini was less spectacular. The lamb was a bit too dry and the feta’s texture made it hard to take a few bites without a beverage nearby. It left us wondering “Maybe the lamb was leftover from the day before?” Unless the specials are really fresh, I’d skip them and stick to the proven sandwich menu.

Domenics is one of the few places to be solidly placed in high-strategy and high-execution sandwiches. For under $10 you can taste the food of the gods:

The anticipation is killing me:

Ahh, there it is:

Can you taste it?

Mmmmmmanzo!

Mmmmmm

Lamb Panini:

Pass the aranciata:

They set up shop on 3rd Avenue at 21st Street in a little place with a long counter and practically no room for the tables and chairs they keep by the windows. Hours are 9:30-8pm and it’s usually crowded. I tried their two signature sandwiches: the Roast Beef and the Nicky Special [sic]. Both were incredibly large, delicious and a little quirky.

First, look at the Roast Beef ($9.75). Yeah, take a look at it. If “Wow, look at all that roast beef” isn’t your first reaction, I’d like to know where you eat. That’s a veritable surplus of roast beef. If Mr. Defonte could run our city the way he packs these sandwiches, we’d be set. Hell, if he could run the country this way, there would be five chickens in every pot and a car made out of roast beef in every garage! (Take that Herbert Hoover!) I was full after just half the sandwich. And I was a little sad, because the roast beef was delicious. Sure, it was a little cold after a short walk outside, and sure, the inclusion of a slice of fried eggplant made it taste a little sweet but damn, that roast beef is delicious. I’ve come to accept that even tasty delis obliterate their roast beef until it’s grey (e.g. Champs), but this roast beef is a perfect medium-rare! Finally! The mozzarella was good too, but who really cares? I had some troubles keeping the fillings in place and not even the counterforce could stop the slow slide to the plate. I resorted to “patrolling the border”, an advanced technique I’ll illustrate shortly wherein the eater issues a preemptive strike on unlawful fillings by eating them as they are exposed from the bread, around the edge of the sandwich, reversing the direction of filling creep.

Now look at the Nicky Special ($9.95). Nicky must be huge. I mean really HUGE. Who else would resemble that sandwich? Now, I thought the Roast Beef was big, but this one is colossal. Is this the biggest sandwich in the store? Is this the biggest sandwich in Manhattan!? Is this the biggest sandwich ever served?!? I don’t know but it’s certainly the biggest I’ve ever seen. Take a look. Yeah, that’s right, it has layers like the grand canyon. If the Governor Arnold is a regular Italian hero then the Nicky Special is Arnold from Conan. See the difference. Nicky Special’s got: ham, capocollo, salami, fried eggplant (again), provolone, hot salad (spicy), marinated mushrooms, lettuce, tomato, oil and vinegar. Can you spot them all? That’s surplus! Nicky Special is delicious. It has spicy flavors from the hot salad, a little sweet from the fried eggplant and plenty of savory flavors from the ham, capocollo, salami and provolone. The marinated mushrooms, lettuce and tomato gave it a nice crunch, but I fear were the prime culprits of some massive filling creep.

I’d recommend Defonte’s to anyone willing to listen. I’d also skip the fried eggplant in both of these sandwiches, it’s too sweet. Lastly, block out your schedule for a food coma and when you wake, you’ll think the same thing I did: “Defonte for Mayor!”

Defonte’s Earned high marks for both sandwiches:

Hello, roast beef:

Eek, not so close!

Hello, Nicky Special:

Don’t you look pretty:

The first layer is from 400BC:

When I went around 1pm, there was no line and just two tables were taken. After staring dumbly at the boards for a few minutes, I ordered a prosciutto with mozzarella and roasted peppers and a meatball with sauce while chatting up the counter guys, trying to get some secret Italian sandwich mysteries. Instead I got two gigantic sandwiches. The first thing I noticed (after the bland decor) was how heavy these sandwiches are. They are massive! Though the total came to $17, which is way too much for regular sandwiches in this economy, I held faith that they would deliver. Plus, by weight, they were probably equivalent to 4 sandwiches.

These are delicious sandwiches! My meatball was perfectly cooked, not gray, tough and chewy. It tasted almost homemade, almost. The sauce was used sparingly, thank god. I hate it when excessive sauce just lubes the meatballs to go flying out when you pick it up. In this sandwich, they’re just there to add a hint of tomato and oregano. After a while the bread got nice and soggy. When in comes to meatballs subs, I think soggy bread is fantastic, as long as it doesn’t fall apart and drop meatballs in your lap. [Aside: why are there so many songs about meat balls? Don't believe me?]

The other sandwich was prosciutto with mozzarella and roasted peppers (at the counter guy’s recommendation) and a little oil and vinegar. It was massive (see photo below). The prosciutto was salty and left the perfect buttery-meat flavor in your mouth after a bite, unfortunately the mozzarella seemed to wash it out. I’m not really sure why I eat cold mozz, it always tastes like nothing to me but cold mushy texture. I took it out. Without the mozz to wash away the prosciutto, it was fantastic. The bread gave just enough resistance and held everything together nicely, despite the soggy-potential of added oil and vinegar. Yum. The portions of this sandwich are incredible! Compare the amount of meat below to that given by Despana. Despana gives a one layer covering while Biellese gives a little brick! Horray for Prosciutto!

[They also sell 6-foot cold-cut "party" sandwiches, which is creepy, becuase I've had dreams about sandwiches that large...]

Biellese had high execution and high strategy:

Meatball ‘wich unwrapped, without excess sauce:

Posed like a Prizefighter:

Prosciutto Unwrapped:

Prosciutto ‘wich looking very elegant :

Prosciutto Up close, layer after layer (The shine isn’t from nasty-rot, rather oil and vinegar):