Creating Jewish deli meat is like a perfect combination of art and science. Some delis have found the ideal balance, while others are more content to satisfy the science part of it all and move on from there. I paid a visit to Chompie’s in Scottsdale to see how it would measure up against my admittedly high standards for Kosher-style delis.

For starters, the menu was exactly what I would want from a deli – massive and full of what seemed like massive sandwiches. While I could have gone for a simple Reuben or Hot Pastrami, I instead opted for the Triple Decker called Mitch’s Brooklyner. It was stuffed with pastrami, corned beef and brisket with three slices of double baked Jewish rye (as though there is some other sort of rye out there). There was literally nothing else in the sandwich. No cheese. No dressing. Nothing. But there was a side and I chose fries.

My triple decker sandwich arrived locked and loaded, ready for the taking. It looked like a daunting task to eat, but actually not too crazy because Chompie’s clearly adhered more to the science-y side of Jewish deli meats. Each was sliced to the exact same super thin-ness that really hid a lot of the texture that good corned beef, pastrami and brisket should have. Plus, while it was almost inevitable that one meat would get the shaft, why did it have to be pastrami? This was definitely the most flavorful of the trio, if not especially special. The rye was definitely solid and held up well against the onslaught of meats.

So while Chompie’s was not at all the kind of deli you tell everyone to go running to, it was definitely the kind of deli that you enjoy having in your neighborhood when you just need the comforts of the old country. There might not be much excitement or art to it, but when you stack up three meats it’ll do just fine.

Look, I’ve already confessed to not being the biggest banh mi guy, but that doesn’t mean I was not eager to find the most badass banh mi that Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) had to offer. Therefore, I knew I had to make my way to Banh Mi Huynh Hoa. The internet informed me that the lines could often be massive, but that they would mostly be filled with locals. But I had a little trick in my back pocket.

That trick really wasn’t my trick, it was simply the existence of rain, which seemed to have scared most people away from waiting in line. Thus, after only a couple of minutes of waiting in a line where I could only locate one other obvious foreigner I stood ready to order. And what and order it was. I told the lady I wanted no vegetables, except that hot peppers were good. She then took to slicing open a piece of banh mi (interesting enough, the word banh mi literally means “bread” and not “sandwich”) and loaded it up with insane-looking cured meats, a flossy pork and some meat spread (presumably pate?). I then paid up the ridiculously cheap price in dong and set to eating.

I didn’t even stop to think about what each cured meat was (and perhaps it was best that I didn’t know) as I dug in, but my tongue was met with some mighty good flavors and for the first time I felt like I could really associate with why people seem to like banh mis so much. Of course, I could never expect to find such a good banh mi back at home because people in the US seem to think banh mis have to be dominated by radishes and pickled veggies. In fact, I’m not even sure there would be too many banh mi shops in Vietnam that could match the meatiness of this banh mi beast. Oh, and the bread was pretty damn good, too.

Banh Mi Huynh Hoa treated me well and showed me just how good a banh mi sandwich can actually be. For that, I will forever be grateful for the internet that led me there.

Long before there was a Disney movie called Pinocchio, there was a classic Italian story featuring that classic wooden toy. Pinocchio’s (no relation) in Burbank is much more about those Italian roots than it is about the Disney story. And although that Disney classic has stood the test of time, there is one thing it certainly cannot do – feed you. That’s where Pinocchio’s comes in.

Like any good Italian deli, their sandwiches are loaded with cold cuts, meatballs and sausages. One of their sandwiches was called the Monte Carlo and although the ingredients weren’t listed on the wall menu, I was quite curious about what could be found within. When I asked, the guy behind the counter said it was made with Italian cold cuts, provolone cheese and tomatoes. Despite the vagueness of his description, I couldn’t say no to such a sandwich, but I did say no to the tomatoes.. I ordered a large and, once again staying true to its European roots, I found that ordering a sandwich to eat in rather than to go cost an extra $1.45. I was tempted to get it to go, but I was with a group and instead coughed up the $6.95.

In a strange twist, the sandwich came with a choice of two salads. At first I was disappointed because I wanted no such thing, but then I saw they had a pasta and a fruit salad. I asked for those and the man told me they cost more. So once again, I was disappointed. I got some spinach in the hopes that one of my eating companions would want it (no one did), and couldn’t bear to pick another salad. Some combo.

Finally, with salad pushed away and sandwich in hand, I was ready to eat. At first glance, the bread to meat ratio seemed overwhelming, but I found out in the first bite that this light and fluffy bread would do nothing to distract me from the insides. As for the meat, I found there were distinctly three different cold cuts. One was unquestionably mortadella, while the other two appeared to be two salami varietals. One was thinly sliced and floppy, while the other may have been a soppressata. It was sliced thick, had a much smaller circumference than the other meats and was actually a surprisingly good addition to an otherwise more simple sandwich. Well, whatever the meats were, they were quite tasty. In fact, it was almost as tasty as the Godmother, but gets edged out by the fact that the bread at Bay Cities adds so much to their sandwiches while the bread at Pinocchio’s is simply there as a carrying vessel for delicious meat.

Pinocchio’s is a surprising little gem in the heart of Burbank. While I disagree with their “combo” options and their eat-in pricing, I will be back next time I need my fix of Italian sandwich wizardry in the valley.

I discovered a Togo’s coupon at work that seemingly granted me one of the cheapest meals ever. It said that I could get a free sandwich with the purchase of chips and a drink. Not too shabby in a world that usually offers minor discounts on chips and drinks after you purchase the sandwich. I decided to try it out and see how good of a deal it really was.

I handed the lady behind the counter the coupon and proceeded to order the meatiest sandwich available. The best I could find was the capicola, salami and provolone. Keeping it simple and veggie-free, I didn’t get anything else on it. I picked out my chips and drink, and went to get rung up. Amazingly, the total came to $2.73! I couldn’t believe what a deal I had somehow been granted. Cheap, however, is not always the best thing. I had to make sure it still tasted alright.

When I unwrapped it and began eating, I have to say I was pretty happy. It didn’t compare at all to the Godmother from Bay Cities in terms of freshness, processedness or the bread, but I wasn’t going to complain for $2.73.

In all, Togo’s gave me a decent meal for an amazing price. I’m not sure the full price would have been worth it for what I got, but if I ever need a decent meaty sandwich, I can count on Togo’s (especially if I have a coupon).