So, even though we had Costa and Eurodeli over the last couple of days, I am yet again reviewing Casper and Gambini’s because I didn’t feel like reviewing them on those days (although they’re on the Top Five work roster so the time will come).
This time we had something different out of consideration for my kind readers. Mystic Mo had the Club Sandwich – “our triple decker classic: jumbo toasted Pullman loaf, your choice of thin sliced roast beef or tender chicken breast, layered with lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, crisp beef bacon, boiled egg, mozzarella cheese and mayonnaise. Served with crispy French fries” at L.E. 31. He chose chicken (fool). I had a Counting Calories Pick 2! Combo, namely ½ a Greek salad and ½ a Good Old Turkey Swiss sandwich, at L.E. 27 (and I accepted the menu’s thoughtful recommendation to ask for their multi grain baguette, if I was thinking healthier). We both had the previously mentioned Café Mocha. It took forever for him to order the food, because we argued over whose turn it was to make the phone call. I insisted that traditionally he was in charge of C and G and I was in charge of Eurodeli. However, he was the one who called Eurodeli the day before yesterday, because when I asked him what he wanted he wouldn’t tell me, saying instead: “tab mat haaty boosa”. When I respectfully declined he snatched his phone up and did the ordering himself, kindly acquiescing to also make the order I shouted at him. I related these events again to him today. He said “tab matgeebi boosa bo2 fe3lan.” He then took forever figuring out what he wanted and perusing the menu extensively. There are new items, he claimed.
When the food arrived a lifetime later, we were somehow stunned by the considerable total sum: L.E. 99. Mystic Mo instructed me to hide the C and G menu and that we’d only order from there on special occasions. We also agreed that I was perfectly capable of making nice sandwiches myself and so I would do that starting when he got back from vacation. Because you see, it’s assumed I would make him one at well. Please. I consider it a hardship to get up early enough to take a shower. Then again the Italy trip was financially destructive in the extreme, so I should really make myself sandwiches at least…
The Club Sandwich was reportedly yummy. Egg: great. Mayonnaise: appropriate. Mayo mustard side dip: thoughtful. It’s nice to have a dip alongside. Also, it was huge, meaning that Mystic Mo, a big dude, was full halfway through. He reasoned that maybe this justified the expense, as he could have the rest later.
My salad was actually great – and I speak as a person who sniffs at delivery salads, and also as a person who made, and ate, her weight in Greek salad yesterday. Yes, it had those huge pieces of lettuce you can hardly fit into your mouth (who started that trend? Who?) but it was fresh, the dressing was good, and it had fresh herbs in it. And even more key, the cheese was good. Not too creamy, not too Egyptian/crumbly. The olives were sliced, thank God. I hate interrupting meals to spit out olive pits. Usually I just give the olives to dining companions since I don’t like them much.
My half sandwich turned out to be a wee baguette. I have a soft spot for wee loaves of bread (and wee stuff in general…I remember once remarking to one of my roommates in university, a scary if loving female with a sharp eyebrow ring, morbid art, a cigarette holder and goth makeup who loved her some System of a Down, that I thought naked Bart Simpson as a toddler was the cutest thing ever. She said, “You’re weird, and might need some help.”)
The sandwich, however, was not weird. It was great. Plenty of delicious turkey, real mozzarella cheese in generous quantity, fresh lettuce and tomato. Not too much mayo. I was full, but not too full.
The cutlery and condiments were a real joy to me. First they came in individual little paper bags – sure, bad for the environment, but not as bad as plastic. Each bag contained a knife and fork, a salt and pepper packet, and an individually wrapped Halls. Classy. And I was particularly happy with the knife and fork themselves – they were pretty close to being real. They were made of tough plastic and didn’t bend at all. Sugar was also provided even though the mochas don’t need it. I put them in my bag of spare sugar packets that I keep in my work closet with my legal codes.
As stated, the expense. Corporate lawyers who persist in taking art-gazing trips to Italy (me) and shamanic voyages along the ancient trails in Peru (him) still cannot afford L.E. 50 a day. It’s shameful. Should make own lunch like my sensible girlfriends, although I hear reports of mesa2a3a and whole zucchinis being brought into work by the Podophobiac.
Also, Mystic Mo’s fries were soggy and limp. We’ve had the fries there before and they still sucked. Maybe it’s the distance? And worst of all: no ketchup. Mystic Mo asked me if there was any ketchup remaining in my closet stock, and there was not, due to insufficient ketchup provision by Hardees.
I’m ditching the ratings. You all can read.