Lunch at Hermosa with Dennis Lee

I don’t have to convince you about how great the internet is–you’re reading these words via this medium at this moment. You know all about it. It’s true though–without the internet, something like this website would never have been possible for me to do–I’d never have seen the List of Sandwiches we follow, I’d never have had this platform to write about them or the resources to research them.

Without the internet, I also wouldn’t know some of the best people I know, a group of friends from all over the world, some of whom I’ve met in person and some I haven’t, people with different outlooks who nevertheless came together on a website dedicated to the non-musical pursuits of one of our favorite musicians and proceeded to argue our way into each others’ lives.

Those people, these “imaginary friends” from the internet, are the ones I collaborated with to create this website. Every name you see on the list of this site’s authors to the left there is someone who I met online. By now I’ve met most, though not all of them in person as well, at concerts, music festivals, for lunch or dinner or just out at the bar. I’ve been to their weddings and hugged their kids. I’ve mourned the ones who left us too soon.

Dennis Lee has been an online friend of mine for a few years now, first on Twitter, and then on Facebook (though I suspect he may simply accept any friend requests he receives, no matter how questionable the requester). Dennis is what my impostor’s syndrome-riddled mind likes to call “a real food writer,” having published pieces on Serious Eats, The Takeout, his own blog The Pizzle, his new subscription blog Food is Stupid, a beautiful print magazine on Asian food and culture called Dill, hell, even Fish & Game Quarterly. Once he even contributed a couple paragraphs to this humble site, to a post about egg sandwiches.

Yet despite living in the same metropolitan area, and despite my declaration back in January of 2016 that I would take him out for a beer sometime soon, we had never crossed paths before until this weekend. Dennis, much kinder and less, well, gross than his online persona might suggest, was the one to suggest it–the older I get, the more introverted I become, and where once I enjoyed going places and meeting people, it now takes promises of delicious sandwiches to entice me away from the safety of my house. Dennis dangled the right bait–a little-known but great sandwich shop called Hermosa, in the Chicago neighborhood of the same name.

This restaurant is a local haunt for Dennis, and he’s friendly with chef/owner Ethan Lim, so he ordered some sandwiches for us and we set up at the row of stools along the front window, the only seating in the restaurant. It’s a cozy place, with an aesthetic that appeals to me–comic book decorations, an antique coke machine, potted plants arranged around the counter.

As Dennis and I chatted, awaiting our sandwiches, Ethan brought out a couple of soups for us to try, a cheffy courtesy I’ve seen in TV shows but haven’t experienced often personally. He seemed genuinely interested in our feedback. Dennis, of course, took some photos. I have a slightly meta habit of photographing photographers that has gotten me in trouble at a wedding or two.

First was an Asian broth with chicken, scallions, jalapenos, and cilantro. “Sometimes you want pho without the noodles,” Ethan explained. I wasn’t sure I agreed with him, but the broth went a long way toward changing my mind, clean-flavored and clear, with the occasional bite from a slice of raw chili.

Ethan served us a chili as well, served with crema, scallions, and chicharrones. Where the pho broth was simple and clear, the chili was aggressively seasoned, thick and hearty as chili should be, with the crunch of the chicharrones making some bites into a sensory overload. Next time I make chili, I’ll be sure to have some chicharrones on hand.

Dennis was most excited about this Mexican-style cheesesteak, with ribeye steak, queso Chihuahua, poblano chilis, and onions griddled into a melty mess and served with garlic mayo. It was served in a great sandwich roll, reminiscent of the type of Vietnamese demibaguette that the best banh mi are served in–crisp-crusted but not overly so, with a light crumb that conforms around the ingredients and keeps them inside the sandwich. Once again, this was an aggressively-seasoned mix, a touch on the salty side perhaps but absolutely well within my tolerance, and just the kind of sandwich I like.

I was more excited to try the Korean-marinated steak sandwich, which I’d seen Dennis post about on social media. The flavors were reminiscent of a sandwich I ate back in July, the Korean BBQ steak sandwich from Stella’s Batting Cages. Where I thought that sandwich lacked in execution, though, the Hermosa version excelled, with tender marinated ribeye, sliced cucumber, scallions, sesame seeds, and gochujang mayonnaise on the same great sandwich roll that the cheesesteak used.

As excited as I was for the Korean steak sandwich though, once I saw the menu, it was the Cambodian Fried Chicken sandwich that caught and held my attention. And when Ethan brought it out, the other sandwiches on the counter slipped out of my mind.

My immediate referent was the Singaporean Har Cheong Gai Burger that I wrote about here a few years ago. I asked Ethan if this was similar, and he said yes, it used the same basic seasoning but omitted the fermented shrimp paste. The chicken was lightly battered and fried crisp, still hot and quite juicy when it came to table. Served with an herby papaya salad in a brioche-style bun, it was my favorite of the three sandwiches we tried, though I’d return to eat any of them again.

And I’ll be returning soon, as I saw on Facebook that Hermosa will be introducing a sandwich of Thai grilled pork to their menu next week, with what looks like some type of slaw, a spicy fish sauce dressing, and toasted rice. The toasted rice and fish sauce dressing bring to mind laab, which is my absolute weakness when it comes to Thai food. I must have this sandwich.

Dennis mentioned that Ethan had a background in fine dining and it shows–the presentation and execution of each of these sandwiches were top notch, and Ethan’s interest in and excitement with the flavors of various cuisines mark him as a curious and thoughtful chef. Hermosa, both the restaurant and the neighborhood, are outside my usually trodden path, but habits are meant to be changed, and this is the just the kind of place that I daydream about opening myself on the days when the dull grind of work leaves me needing a little fantasy to keep going.

But as great as it was to meet Ethan, to get to experience his food and his vision for a short time, and to eat those fantastic sandwiches, the greatest thing of all was to finally meet up with Dennis and get to know each other in person. Like those other online friends, when we finally met in person there seemed to be no end of topics to discuss. After lunch, we even took a little trip to Joong Boo Market, where Dennis nicely advised me on what Korean delicacies to try. I haven’t opened that can of silkworm pupae yet, Dennis. Maybe next time we can split it over beers.