Troyers, Salisbury NC
 ★★★★★ (Dyn-o-mite!)


You know, the word sandwich is thrown around a lot these days, and why not. What other word in the English or any other language evokes so much emotion? Love? War? Jockstrap? Kittens? Kittens sorta comes close though. And you know I could expatiate for pages about the history of the sandwich, how the Earl of Sandwich invented the first bungee cord to steal the first sandwich from the Witch King of Angmar who died brokenhearted trying to eat an unopened box of Lucky Charms between two particles board he found discarded at a construction site but I won't,not because I don't

(brokenhearted or fatal bowel obstruction, history belongs to the nemishes.)

have the ability to ramble on and on about nothing seemingly for ages. I had this whole passage about growing up in Nassau County, a guy who drove a sandwich truck, nostalgia, but Whoa Ahab! did I get off topic! Highlight paragraph, delete, kill your darlings. Was that Hemingway or Shari Lewis when she hacked up Lambchop who said that? Anyway I went to this Amish place on Friday called Troyers, it used to be Yoders but I think Yoder lost a huge bet on a sketchy MMA throw-down out in Cleveland NC a few weeks ago and some other Amish goons muscled him out, but short story long, I went in and got a sandwich from these guys and as the Amish are fond of saying "Holy lizard shit Malachi! This freegin' sandwich is nuts!"

So yea, I got sliced Chicken,  they must have cut the equivalent of 12 whole chickens worth of meat on this samich, and the bread was like lotion, buttered lotion! the pepper cheese clocked in at a non-fatal dose of scoville units and they were cutting it like they did not own it, but they did!

Raz-a-mataz bitches!

Cream soda and a briefcase sized rice krispie treat later I was  stuffed like a the proverbial farmer who's corn bears the defiled stank of the jazzercising incubus. (He who is ritually gorged with sarsaparillas until they burst apart like a pinata at Micky Rourkes coke fueled birthday, but in a good way.)

Furthermore the gentle old woman in the apologized to me for me not remembering to take the fuckin Rice Krispie treat. "Seriously?" I told her. "I'm the one who fucked that up." Gee that was awful nice though.

Final verditc: New York, your sandwich title just got it's ass kicked by some good old fashioned Amish karate.