In search of The Best Sandwich in America My wife and I are vacationing in the US, to help her get some rest, and gain back some weight. Anyways... While inflicting myself on a hapless Chi-town, I decided to look up this joint, "The Silver Palm", which food-critic Anthony Bourdain very recently proclaimed as serving the absolute best sandwich in America: the meal in question being interestingly and appropriately named "Three Little Piggy's": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TGuqI84_QNc Since I'd found quite a few of Bourdain's other declarations spot-on, hell, I thought I'd go out, and try one of those badboys. The Silver Palm Last Sunday (Aug 23-09) my wife and I, her sister, and her nephew drove downtown and found "The Silver Palm". There was only curbside parking all around the block, which burns about $1 an hour. There's a small bar (same name) that spills out onto the sidewalk, and then there's the restaurant itself which opens from 4pm onwards. The dining room's built from an old railway car, with the kitchen at one end. Framed Vargas girls took up the little spaces between the car's large if slightly dirty windows, and the atmosphere seemed laid back. The Three Little Piggy's The touted sandwich costs $10 plus apiece, and we weren't the only ones asking for it "because Bourdain had talked it up". Three of our party ordered the Three Little Piggy's, despite the sandwich's large size. I ordered mine with a Mad ***** (a Belgian ale) and waited the fifteen odd minutes it took to get to me. No lie, the meal was substantial. Big pile of large-cut fries to keep it company too, Those french fries were wondrous --you could tell how the duck fat they'd been cooked in set them apart, without overwhelming them with a fowl flavor. The sandwich itself? Pignificently delicious, featuring a thick layer of tender ham, a delicately breaded pork cutlet, bacon, cheese, onion ring and flavorings between, with a lightly fried egg on top; all cradled between two warm pillows of solid bready goodness. Photos just cannot capture, but... It was, however, mechanically tricky to eat. The egg had to be set aside onto the plate, to be had separately, if one wanted to have any chance of eating the sandwich like a sandwich (with just hands). The egg very nicely complemented the flavors of the rest of the sandwich's sinful innards, and the small side of pickled onion rings, sport peppers etc. allowed perfect little intermissions. If you like pork, this is seriously some very, very VERY good grub. I however refuse to call it America's best sandwich. I haven't actually had anything clearly better, but I'm pretty fricking sure that there's something else out there. There would have had to be fairly significant DOUBT that someone could top this porky asskicker before I'd ever think it was the King, and that sort of doubt just was not there. Maybe it's because I'm spoiled for the incredible flavors of East Asia, or because my taste buds aren't American. Heck, maybe if I had somehow had that meal with a proper cold, weapons-grade San Miguel pale pilsen... Who knows? Tarnished Silver No way around it. The service at the Silver Palm that day was just utterly mediocre. This Chewbacca of a server wasn't very hygienic, if his smell was any indication, and the way he flicked a wad of bills (our change) onto our table was startlingly rude. The busboy didn't even wait for us to clear out before he started swabbing our table --the sweaty lummox effectively blocking our egress-- while his elbow came close taking my eye out ...twice. Being Filipino, I do tend to just put up with a fair bit of crap. I'm no stranger to street-food ruggedness, but in proper restaurants I'm usually a generous tipper, like, up to 50% of the bill. Here, however, I was reluctant to tip even the legal minimum. Oh, I held my peace, and left with a very bad taste in my mouth. Shank me twice sideways, but that's a heck of a way to cap a food-trip. Bourdain excels at the exegetical, I can only cobble together catharses. h.