The search goes on for a decent Reuben on the left coast. Had some high hopes for Mike's East Coast Sandwiches, but they nuked the pastrami, which turned it into a hot ball o' meat. Boo! Hiss!!
The sandwich actually was called an almost Reuben because it had mustard and Thousand Island. Yes, too much of a good thing. Even on the fabulous Macrina bread, it fell apart.
Surly servers didn't enhance this not-so-New York minute.
So, outside of chef Dave Hill's spectacular Reuben -- at Hill's Someplace Else in Spokane -- I've yet to find a sandwich in this part of the world worthy of that name.
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