Urban Stomach

My Scripture

Can a man have a love affair with a corner store? Yes. My first visit to Roxie’s was in 1986 as a junior in high school. I didn’t just instantly fall in love with the sandwiches, I also instantly fell in love with the place. I absorbed the constant chatter from the guys behind the counter and learned about the real world from observing the cops, construction workers, local crazies, college students and other characters who frequented Roxie’s. It was as much a class to me as was Mr. Simon’s Math or Mr. Weiss’ Computer Architecture. Only a two-minute drive, it was far enough from school to feel like we were leaving campus yet close enough that we could go for lunch or during a fifty minute “dead period”. During my senior year, I often visited Roxie’s twice each day, once in the morning to have a donut and and get the AM chatter from the counter guys who all called me “Shorty”, and again with my friends for lunch, which we ate in my beloved 1979 maroon, diesel Cadillac Seville or outside on the sidewalk. It was like our secret clubhouse. My penchant for food challenges ramped up at Roxie’s where I regularly ate an entire Hostess Snowball in one bite. Though grades weren’t my highest priority, I was hellbent on eating every item on Roxie’s menu by the time I graduated. While I came close, I consider it to be my biggest failure in life that I didn’t finish.

12/31/1999: Shorty, The Roxie Kid And Our Heroes At The Last Lunch Of The Century

Visits home from college weren’t complete without a visit to see the guys at Roxie’s and feast on a Roxie’s Special. “Hey, Shorty’s back in town!” they would yell out. Yes, a corner store on the city’s outskirts was the only place where I was known, but my ego skyrocketed when the Roxie’s guys remembered me. Still does. When I took Mrs. Stomach to Roxie’s for the first time, roughly four months after we started dating, I was worried about what she would think of my paradise. She loved it. However, more prominent on my mind was what would the Roxie’s guys think of Mrs. Stomach? If they disapproved, I’d have a dilemma on my hands. From behind the counter, one of the guys yelled “Hey look! Shorty’s got a new girlfriend! Hey, Shorty’s girlfriend, do you like pastrami? Here’s a taste!” Luckily, Mrs. Stomach charmed them and they all approved. I could safely proceed with the relationship. My last lunch of the 20th century was a no brainer. Roxie’s.

The Roxie's Special

Ok, ok..what about the food you ask? The Roxie’s Special is my favorite sandwich in San Francisco and it’s what I order most of the time . Ham, mortadella, salami, your choice of cheese (I recommend that you let them decide), and the usual sandwich fixings make up the inside of this beast. Ask for your order warmed up and you’ll be rewarded with a truly oven-baked, meltingly good lunch that will make you ask “Why can’t all corner store sandwiches taste like this?” No Quizno’s crap here.  While Roxie’s has a great bread selection, I go Dutch Crunch every time. This roll is crunchy like a cracker on the outside but soft like a Philadelphia pretzel on the inside and makes for the perfect casing. Finally, the ingredient that puts the Roxie’s Special over the top is marinated artichoke hearts. They add just the right amount of zip and the texture against the meat, cheese and bread works magically. While the high school Urban Stomach could easily polish a Supreme sized sandwich, nowadays I go for the Junior which is still a pretty hefty lunch. Note that Roxie’s has maybe the largest drink selection of any corner store in the city. You’ll need a few minutes to pick one which is a good thing as sandwiches, because they’re made with love, can take a while during peak hours. At lunchtime, you’ll be in and out in roughly 15-20 minutes.

The Unparalleled Dutch Crunch Roll

I have to give two big shout-outs as I conclude my love letter. First is to Duncan Mitchell. Though Duncan went to a different high school, he’s the one who told my friends about Roxie’s and thus is the reason that I started going. To this day, Duncan, now a New Yorker, is one of my favorite eating partners but I still have issues with the fact that he likes the Spanish roll as much, if not more than, the Dutch Crunch. Lunacy. My second shout-out goes to Justin Grover, a.k.a. “The Roxie Kid”. Justin was there for my very first sandwich at Roxie’s and we’ve been well over 100 times since. He’s a Tuna Special guy and I respect that. Now a father of two little stomachs, I get a little teary eyed when the Roxie’s guys scream “Hey, Shorty’s here with his daughters. Those are two beautiful girls. Shorty’s all grown up now!” It’s my own circle of life come to fruition.

The Stomachs At Our Favorite Picnic Spot

Roxie Food Center
1901 San Jose Ave.
San Francisco, CA 94112
Monday-Saturday: 6:30 AM-9:00 PM
Sunday: 7:00 AM-8:00 PM
Junior Roxie’s Special $5.99

Why do you care about what I eat?  It started in high school. During lunch, I’d take BART downtown to buy a whole pie at Blondies and then bring it back and sell slices. At no profit. It bugged me that we had lousy lunch service and even a freshman could only eat so much Al’s Hofbrau (RIP) and Beep’s Burgers. Blondies was a big hit. Later, when I got a ’79 diesel Cadillac Seville, my friends would pile in and we’d hit the Outer Mission for burritos at Guadalajara or sandwiches at Roxie’s, both places that I still frequent today. We made a big deal out of lunch and I loved it. At our Senior Retreat, I won the watermelon eating contest with ease. People cared about what I was eating.

In college, my grades were terrible but no one knew the Ann Arbor food scene like me. I read the coupon books handed out at the beginning of the semester with a bizarre intensity (3 small Bell’s pizzas with 1 topping for $5 is still the best deal I’ve ever seen). My roommates often came home from class to find me parked on the couch studying the menus in the restaurant section of the yellow pages. Textbooks remained unopened. Every night I begged my friends with cars to drive me to Detroit to Lafayette Coney Island, open 23 1/2 hours a day (they closed only so the guys could shower). In turn, my friends created eating “challenges” for me to complete in order to earn my coney dog. Drink an entire 32 oz. bottle of room temperature Beefamato juice? Done in 5 minutes. How about  a can of Tony Packo’s raw chili sauce? Scarfed. It was Man vs. Food long before Adam Richman. Once, on my way to a final exam, I ran into 2 friends about to have lunch at Red Hot Lovers, an iconic Vienna Beef joint with the best cheese fries on earth. Needless to say, I skipped the final and enjoyed a “Serious Dog”.  When I finally got serious about school, it was only with a promise to myself that each day would start with breakfast at Zingerman’s Deli. “Mass Communication and Public Opinion” could never get me out of bed but the thought of the greatest corned beef hash known to mankind certainly could. I earned straight A’s once Zingerman’s became a part of the plan. In college, people cared about what I was eating.

When I met my wife, I knew she was the one not because of her amazing personality or unparalleled beauty, but because she too had been to Manganero’s Hero Boy on 9th Ave. in New York. The night that we met, we were sitting at a bar and having the typical getting to know you conversation. When I learned that she grew up in New York, I thought that I’d impress her with my New York food knowledge by throwing out Manganero’s. She not only had been to Manganero’s but she was able to recite what she had eaten the last time that she was there…8 years earlier! It was love at first sight. Oh, and the fact that she drank Jack and Coke at 2AM didn’t hurt either. My wife knows my food tastes better than anyone. And she cares about what I eat.

I think that you get the idea by now. Food is very important to me. Perhaps a little too important. During the past few years, I’ve been asked “Why don’t you start a blog?” countless times. To everyone who’s asked, thanks for the gentle push. I’m very proud to present you with Urban Stomach. I hope that you care about what I eat.