Envy. All you gotta do is taste this sandwich. Perfectly fresh. Perfectly balanced. Perfect.
Adoration. It's a roasted pork tenderloin sandwich. I know that all parts of the pig are good, but there's a reason the saying is 'livin' high on the hog'. Sure a buttress, ham or even a loin would be fantastic. But it's just so French to use tenderloin. Kinda like a Foie burger or frying pommes in duck fat. Just a better way of doing things...health, food cost, and whatever else be damned.
Sour grapes? Well, not really. Replication is not easy. Perhaps it's that food always tastes better when someone else makes it, but that's not it in this case. That's just what I continue to tell myself as I try to wrap my mind around how the hell they manage to make this perfect sando.
No, sour grapes it isn't. I'm not trying to rationalize why I don't want it. Rather, I'm trying to convince myself not to break into the place under the cover of darkness to try and figure out the secret. Did Aesop ever write a fable about epicurean-related B&E?
If you're ever in SF, give it a go. If you're let down, you're wrong.
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