/blog

So, I just now returned from one of Omaha’s fine dining establishments, the Ethnic Sandwich Shop. It’s only a few blocks from where I live, so I see it often; a barn, painted red, with no windows, save for a couple on the south side. It sits in a parking lot.

I wonder what kind of rare, ethnic sandwiches they have to offer? Walking in through the front screen door, you are presented with a menu on the wall and a counter with a soda machine and cash register. One the menu are items such as: Hoagie, BLT, French Dip, Spaghetti for 20 people, and what I ordered, the Jammer something-or-other. It’s basically got lettuce, tomato, turkey, bacon, swiss on a sub roll.

It wasn’t bad.

Was it “ethnic?” I don’t know…ethnic to whom?

This design I’ve created
It’s maybe a little too varied
It will look better updated
I suck at poetry
Get married
Better stick to prose
Here’s a lunch I ate a year ago

This is from Red’s Java House in San Francisco. Come for the atmosphere, stay for the atmosphere. I mean, the food is okay. Just burgers and fries and a giant dispenser of mayonnaise. Little packets of relish. But the place is a little shack on a, basically deserted, pier. Go there. Pier 30. San Francisco. Get some damn fries.