The Sandwich Story

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When I had my first kidney transplant in 2004, I spent about a week in the hospital, which meant the people who love me also spent a lot of time at the hospital. I don't know if you've heard, but hospitals aren't known for their quality cuisine, so by about day 2, Jamie was off into the surrounding neighborhood in search of sustenance.

It didn't take long.

He soon returned to my side, with a grin on his face that I knew meant he had found something good. He went on and on about this amazing sandwich place he'd found. A tiny little spot with half a dozen tables and an old lady who the cashier called “Gramma” making the sandwiches.

And to top it all off, he said, it's called THE YELLOW SUBMARINE! (Spoiler: We're big Beatles fans)

He spoke longingly of this sandwich on a regular basis; we joked that it was his favorite thing about my being in the hospital, an excuse to go get a sandwich. I don't know if it was on purpose or what, but we never ended up there when we were in the city for other reasons, it was strictly a “Lizz is in the hospital so Jamie's going to get a sandwich” thing.

When I was admitted this most recent time, Jamie took Max to get a sandwich and he was fully indoctrinated. They both came back to room with the familiar grin, and Max raving about how his sandwich so so delicious he even let them put mustard and hot sauce on it and he ate it ALL.

So now Max has been indoctrinated into this cult of sandwich, and I'm the only member of the family who is left out.

Womp womp.

Well, dear reader, I can tell you now, it has finally changed!

After my transplant evaluation appointment yesterday (more on that later) Jamie took me for my first best sandwich ever.

Just a few blocks down the road from UCSF, sits The Yellow Submarine, home of the best sandwich ever.

It's tiny; blink and you'll walk right past it. We walked in and I let Jamie take over the ordering. He ordered me a “Medium Italian with everything” and I just stood there, excited and curious about this sandwich that he's spent the last decade talking about.

We grabbed a table and sat down; the ancient mural/menu board on one wall reminds you how long this place has been there, because hi. Coffee for 30¢ and a large sandwich for $2 and change? (The prices here, while higher than this photo, are very reasonable)

So we waited a few minutes and we soon heard our number being called from behind the counter. Lucky #13! And at last, my sandwich dreams were about to come true.

Cripsy-edged grilled bread, a bunch of fresh veggies and meat and cheese appeared before me. And it was delicious.

I can see why Jamie's been talking about this place for so long… it really was a great sandwich. We'll be back, for sure, hopefully sooner rather than later.

Want to check it out yourself? Of course you do! Yellow Submarine, 503 Irving Street, San Francisco

 

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One Comment

  1. That looks like a really great sandwich. I still get misty-eyed thinking about the best cheeseburger I ever ate. It was the Runnelstone at Dottie Dumpling’s Dowry in Madison, Wisconsin. I was about 6 months pregnant (which would make it nearly 13 years ago), and the burger was covered with garlic sauce and was the most delicious thing ever.

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