This sandwich planet isn’t quite what I’d been dreaming of. Instead it seems more like a sandwich factory or a sandwich emporium. Now, I’ve never even been to this sandwich planet, but I have a pretty good idea how it works. When you order online, you pick what you want in your ‘wich from a dizzying list of meats, veggies, breads and sauces. The order shoots out of a printer and the line-cooks assemble from the dizzying buckets of prepped ingredients. It gets wrapped and biked over to your office, where you chow down. Sandwich efficiency, I say!

The sandwiches were okay. I’m always perplexed and confused by these DIY-schemes: if they’re running a sandwich planet, don’t they know what ingredients go well together? Customers ain’t chefs. I tried to make a spin on the classic russian roast beef: roast beef on rye with mustard, lettuce, russian dressing, slaw and jalapeno slices. I ordered it with onions, but they must’ve be blasted into space by a vengeful AI. All these ingredients for $8.75, which seems like a deal.

Clearly, I ordered too many items; I got greedy. When each item is just a line on the screen it’s so easy to order too much. Veggies were decent, the roast beef was way too stringy. After each bite I had to pull it out of my mouth with my hands because I couldn’t bite through. Yuck. I’m glad there were no mirrors or I might’ve stopped eating. The sandwich wasn’t bad, just boring and unexceptional. I’m not sure if that’s my fault or theirs, but I’m not itching to return.

Plotted based on my sandwich, though strategy and cost can vary as you make a more and more complicated sandwich:

Neatly packaged:

Unpackaged:

Food-porn:

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:

While seemingly nondescript, the sandwich is well constructed. The soft, hot roast beef never exhibited any signs of filling creep, the mozzarella was melted through and the bun kept it all in a neat package while helping the texture and not masking any flavors. That is what this sandwich is all about: texture first flavor second. Sure it tasted good, but the thoroughly soft and warm texture was more inviting. Never was it mushy, or crumbly. Each ingredient provided a slight resistance and came together to soothe like a warm blanket. The portion was large, but not holy-crap-I-can’t-believe-I-finished-it-,-I-can’t-stand-to-walk-and-will-just-take-a-nap-here food-come large. It was the right size.

While I wouldn’t make a weekend event of it, I’d head back there without hesitation. The prices are a little high and the food certainly isn’t gourmet, but Champ’s Gourmet Deli is worth a stop if you’re in the neighborhood (or really like to help tourists with directions). The entrance is really on the south-east corner of Trinity and Rector Streets.

Manhattan Special: Roast Beef, Mozzarella cheese on garlic bread (or in this case a sesame seed roll), $6.75

The sign on Trinity St:

Christmas Surprise:

See all that delicious:

Mmm: