I am smitten.

Oh Reuben. How I love thee.

With you, man has mastered the sandwich. You make the turkey club cower for mercy. The patty melt averts its eyes. Even the mighty monte cristo walks away in shame.

I will find you, Reuben, where you most expect me to: any fine establishment, or shithole, at which you are prepared. The best amongst you will be documented here, for all to share in your majesty.

Let those who have gone before me lead the way. And I, Reuben R. Reuben, will share tales of your glory.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Hot Doug's, Chicago, IL

Hot Doug's calls itself The Sausage and Encased Meat Emporium.

It's a Chicago landmark. That said, they now have rankled my essence. How dare they mess with greatness!

From trusted Reubenite S. King, esquire, comes the following picture of an epicurean atrocity!


It's called a Teuben. He says it's a Corned Beef Sausage, Sauerkraut, Swiss Cheese, and Russian Dressing.

Alright, actually, that sounds amazing. I take back my anger, and feverishly await my next midwest excursion.
In the meantime, Hot Doug, if that really is your name, please fax me a sandwich. Reuben R. Reuben must feed.

Can you make a grilled rye bun?

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