AL CAPONE'S

Al CAPONE'S
By: Salomon Ella

There’s a pizza shop on Summer Street in Boston called Al Capone’s. Looking at it from the inside it really doesn’t distinguish itself as a pizza place from any other on the Eastern seaboard. It’s got the Frank Sinatra pictures on the walls, dozens of pizzas slowly chilling behind a glass partition, and some fat sweaty man ordering all the employees around and maintaining a healthy level of tension. All that’s great. But what really draws a crowd is their notorious 20 inch steak and cheese submarine sandwich. During my regular Monday afternoon hangover, I happened upon the restaurant on my lunch break and decided to finally grow a pair and try to finish one of these bad mother fuckers in one sitting. I’m writing this now, a week later, because I just finished pooping it out.

I ordered the large steak and cheese with onions, peppers and mushrooms to go because I like to catch up on the latest onion articles while eating lunch. When I ordered, the women asked me if I wanted Mayonnaise, lettuce and tomato on my steak and cheese. 2 things. First, I appreciate mayonnaise at times but do I want it on my massive grease explosion of a sandwich that’s already drenched in meat and cheese drippings? I can’t imagine what a standard portion of mayo on one of these sandwiches is but it has got to be enough to lube up all characters in a Sabrina Johnson film (Look it up, you won’t regret it)*. Second, who the fuck is putting lettuce and tomato on a steak and cheese sandwich? Let’s leave the salad for the ladies.

The sub is a monstrosity once the meat in sitting all cozy in its roll. Think Rosie O’Donnell’s arm. That’s about it in width and length. So of course I was a little disappointed when they cut it in two and wrapped the halves separately. I wanted people to see me walking down the road with it. Of course they would be thinking, “well if he’s carrying a sandwich like that, I’ve got to see what he’s got in his pants!”. And I would happily tell them. “I’ve got the change from the sandwich I just purchased at Al Capone’s sub shop in my pants. Not much more”.

So I sat down at my desk to dine. I like to begin in the middle of the sub and work my way to the end. This helps to minimize sandwich filling droppings and it makes for the first bight to be the most delicious. And this first bight was quite delicious. The vegetable to meat ratio was just right and the beef was neither sinewy nor shaved too thin. When you eat a steak and cheese, you want to believe there is actual steak in there, not ground beef with cheese sauce. Side note: I’ve been to Philadelphia and I’ve had the “famous” steak and cheese at Geno’s and I was not impressed. The Philadelphia steak and cheese is about as overhyped as the Dallas Cowboys, except instead of Tony Romo, you get an average sized roll filled with beef shavings and cheeze wiz. My Al Capone’s sandwich had a lot more personality. It was dynamic and juicy but stuck to the tenants of what makes a great steak and cheese. And that’s a shit ton of meat.

About 20 minutes after beginning this endeavor, it ended. The last 3 bights were tough to get down, but I triumphed. 2 hours later I sat at my desk, still uncomfortably full and shaking involuntarily. 2 hours after that I was still telling everyone who sits around me that I had completed the Al Capone’s 20 inch steak and cheese challenge for lunch. Despite them ignoring my boosting, I could smell the jealousy just permeating off them. It was embarrassing how badly they reeked of jealousy. Or maybe the stink was coming from my grease soaked pants.

*I looked it up. Sabrina Johnson is a Lady among women. I’d like to start my own Sabrina Johnson fan club. But instead of gathering for meetings we would of course meet weekly in an online chat room and pass our favorite clips to each other. Celebrating Sabrina requires a locked door.