While trying to eat this fourteen dollar beast with one hand, I felt a bit like I was in a rodeo. I knew that if I let go it was all over; the contents I had worked so hard to squeeze within the hinging, hollowed out french bread would debase into a dripping pile and I would no longer be writing about a sandwich. So there I was, left to hold on for the remainder of the ride.
Poised and scarfing, I was struck by two things: First, everything was smoked. The brisket, the cheese, even the tomato juice in the bloody mary was smoked. Also, it was fatty. No surprise there; I mean, we are talking about brisket here, but fatty brisket bathed in aioli. It was a lot to handle. Fortunately the pickled red onion and the bale of cilantro on top helped bite through the rich, meaty flavor and round things out a bit. Allegedly there was some chili jam in there as well, but with all the plants and vinegar fighting the lipids and sweetness, it got lost. Maybe it was supposed to; still, next time, I’m getting some extra on the side.
I held on as long as I could, rode the beast until it collapsed, broken, on the plate. It was a graceful dismount. The crowd roared...over everything except the price.