Matt’s alter ego, Reuben R. Reuben, once traveled the wilds of Los Angeles and Chicago, hunting, eating and occasionally cooking Reuben sandwiches. He would then write about the meal and the experience, giving the world’s greatest sandwich the respect it deserves.
Read about Reuben R. Reuben and his many Reubens here:
Oh Reuben. How I love thee.
With you, man has mastered the sandwich. You make the turkey club cower for mercy. The patty melt averts its eyes. Even the mighty monte cristo walks away in shame.
I will find you, Reuben, where you most expect me to: any fine establishment, or shithole, at which you are prepared. The best amongst you will be documented here, for all to share in your majesty.
Let those who have gone before me lead the way. And I, Reuben R. Reuben, will share tales of your glory.
WHAT MAKES THE PERFECT REUBEN?
Many of you have asked me this question recently. And by many, I mean just one. But that’s enough! I must answer this impassioned call.
It’s gotta be big. Not too big that I have to break out the knife and fork…but big enough to make me think a little bit before I attack it. It’s got to make me pause and strategize. I like food that makes me strategize before I eat it. But, I have to be able to manhandle it.
What makes it truly great, or not, is the proportion and relationship of the 3 vital accoutrement; the kraut, the dressing, and the cheese. That relationship has to be blissfully, meltingly, symbiotic. The blend has to be seamless…like the colors of the rainbow fading into one another.
It’s man’s greatest sandwich…where kings commune.
The bread is rye…the king of breads.
The cheese is Swiss….king of the cheeses.
And the beef is corned. It’s the best way to have beef. Everything should be corned. There should be corned turkey…corned ham….corned bologna.
So you have these kings coming together, making the Reuben not simply a sandwich aristocracy, but a sandwich oligarchy