e a t e r y R O W

When you've been around for nearly a century, you're clearly doing something right. Despite being featured on the Food Network and in just about every tour guide, there's clearly a good chunk of regulars that stop by for lunch. The staff's Brooklyn accents are un-ironic but friendly. Even the wiseguy with the roast beef comment said it in a chipper way.



I ended up, that fateful day getting an Eggplant Parmesan sandwich, something I'd never have ordered on my own. But it was off the charts good. I cannot describe how good it was. A couple big slabs of roast eggplant covered in a sweet marinara that one hesitates to describe because it'll only do it an injustice, and coated in layers of cheese. No, it's not healthy and, as I stood on the curb using the hood of my car as a table to take a test bite, I realized that this is not the kind of sandwich you put off eating because first, it will get cold and it's at its best hot, and second because the bread will turn into mush under all the sauce. Of course, it's not the kind of sandwich you eat on the road unless you want to wind up having red stains all over your clothing