My suburban quest for a Beef on Weck

I always try to contribute to the particular section of The List we’re tackling each month, and I knew when I started writing for this site that it would occasionally present challenges. This was the first month that really became a problem for me. With two of our sandwiches for November, the Barros Luco and the Bauru, being from South American countries, I knew I probably wouldn’t be able to find them on a restaurant menu anywhere around me. Unlike Jim, I’m really not set up to cook complicated cuts of meat and/or bake bread at my house (I live in a punk house–I’m lucky when I can clear enough counter space to slice some bread. More complex cooking operations are right out).

My only hope for a contribution this month was the Beef on Weck, a supposedly American sandwich I’d never heard of before. After reading about its origins and current popularity being largely confined to the Buffalo, NY area, I was starting to wonder if I was just out of luck this month. But before giving up, I decided to google “beef on weck richmond va.” Surprisingly enough, I struck gold–a small sports bar chain called Glory Days Grill, which has a location way out in the suburban West End area, about 20 miles outside the Richmond city limits, serves the beef on weck. Another google result I found was for someone on the Roadfood forums from Raleigh, North Carolina, three hours south of here, looking for a restaurant that carries beef on weck, and being told that the closest place to them that had it was… Glory Days Grill in Richmond VA. So hey, it could’ve been a lot worse, I suppose.

I’m not really your typical sports bar habitue, and I’m also not the sort of person who often dines out with large groups of people. When dining alone, going to places that have wait service rather than a counter you walk up to and place your order can be awkward (this is probably why I eat so much crappy fast food). So I typically avoid such places. In this case, though, there was no getting around it. I had to show up at this sports bar, get a table for one, and order a damn beef on weck sandwich. The thought was rather agonizing. So of course, I put it off all month.

I finally made it out to Glory Days yesterday, for a Black Friday beef on weck lunch. I was headed back from spending Thanksgiving at my parents house, and didn’t have to work that day, so I figured it’d be a perfect time to get the meal out of the way and still allow myself some spare moments before the end of November to actually write this entry. The outside appearance and ambience of the place was a bit nerve-wracking; located in a suburban strip mall, they actually had speakers outside playing a variety of dramatic clips from old sports broadcasts. Now, I’m not opposed to sports–as anyone who knows me is aware, I’m a big fan of American football. But the typical sports fan tends to see me as some kind of alien. I’d just come back from my parents house, though, so I wasn’t wearing any makeup or nail polish (except a clear base to protect my always-chipping nails, but you won’t see that unless you know to look for it); only my multicolored hair was there to give me away as some kind of freak. And really, one of my aunts had a purple streak in her hair at Thanksgiving dinner this year, so even that’s not that weird, right?

Well, yeah, all my trepidation was for naught because the place was mostly empty at 12:30 PM on a post-holiday Friday, and no one who was there even looked at me twice. I think too damn much.

Anyway, the sandwich! I had decided that whatever the place serving it to me considered a beef on weck was what I was gonna eat. I could tell from the online Glory Days menu that they usually served beef on weck with onions on it, but didn’t see any particular mention of onions on the wikipedia entry. I am not a fan of onions on sandwiches, but figured I’d eat them if that was how the sandwich came. Fortunately for me, when my waitress took my order, she asked me if I wanted onions on it, and I decided that, since I had been given the option, I wasn’t violating the rules of the whole Sandwich Tribunal thing to decline. So no onions for me, yay!

There was no mention of cheese, either, but the menu gave me the option of adding provolone cheese on top, and I decided to take it. This is also not mentioned on the wikipedia page, but really, if they’ll give you cheese on a sandwich, why wouldn’t you want it? Well, maybe YOU wouldn’t, but I WOULD. So I ordered the beef on weck with cheese, plus seasoned fries on the side, and a Diet Coke.

While I waited for my order to arrive, I alternated between reading the magazine I’d brought with me (I’m such a nerd) and scoping out my surroundings. I’m not really sure how Glory Days compares to most sports bars, but it definitely seemed more upscale than a lot of them. The furnishings had clearly taken a lot of time to set up as well. The waitresses were outfitted according to the theme as well–all of them were wearing sports jerseys of one type or another. My waitress had been wearing a Manchester United polo, but another waitress was wearing what I thought was an Atlanta Falcons jersey, which caught my attention. It was a #2 jersey, which made me think of Matt Ryan, the Falcons’ current starting quarterback. But then I realized the last name on the back of the jersey, which was only partially obscured by the waitress’s ponytail, wasn’t Ryan but Simms. She was actually wearing a Tampa Bay Buccaneers jersey representing Chris Simms‘ ill-fated tenure with the team, which ended in 2006. The fact that the 2005 Bucs colors look a lot like the 2014 Falcons colors had fooled me. Super weird.

My sandwich arrived, ending my sports-nerd reverie. It came with a bowl of au jus for dipping, as well as a smaller bowl of horseradish sauce. I decided to start by taking a bite of the sandwich without either sauce, just to see what it was like on its own. Jim’s post about the beef on weck had led me to expect a real crunch to the salt/caraway-seed-covered roll to have a real crunch to it, but the Glory Days version of the roll didn’t, really–it was just like a regular bun, only slightly saltier. Perhaps you can’t expect the perfect Kummelweck bun from a sports bar chain based in Northern Virginia, but what the hell–it’s not like the sandwich was bad.

It definitely needed some sauce, though. The beef on the sandwich was a bit juicy, but the dryness of the bun was a legitimate phenomenon. Luckily for me, dipping it into the au jus took things to another level entirely. Beef on weck by itself: decent. Beef on weck with au jus: delicious. It’s as simple as that. I began to tear the thing up with alacrity. After a couple of bites, I decided to try one bit with horseradish sauce on it, just to see what I thought, and while I could definitely see the purpose of adding this spicy kick to the sandwich, the horseradish flavor just wasn’t quite the spice kick I wanted. A little too tangy, or something. I tried one more bite with it before deciding not to fix what wasn’t broken, and just consuming the rest of the sandwich with plenty of au jus.

I always worry in these situations that I won’t get enough sauce to make it through the sandwich while still getting as much as I want on each bite, but that wasn’t a problem here, and I was even able to dip some of my remaining fries into the leftover au jus after the sandwich was done. By the way, the provolone cheese was a good idea, and if you have the option, I recommend taking it. Glory Days’ seasoned fries were tasty as well.

The whole meal ended up being a smashing success, and while I don’t see myself making it out to Glory Days again anytime soon, if I’m ever in that area with some people who want to hit up a sports bar (or if I ever find myself in Buffalo and not eating wings), I’ll definitely order one again.

Drew

I’m a transgender weirdo who loves music, books, comics, and all kinds of other geeky crap. I edit an arts/music/culture magazine in my hometown of Richmond VA (rvamag.com). But let’s not talk about my day job. Let’s talk about food. I love food.