Hi friends! I wanted to share with you a recent piece I wrote for Edible Boston that speaks about a local delicacy–the Roast Beef Sandwich of Boston’s North Shore.
This sandwich is taken extremely seriously by those over here in New England. Seriously, there have been many vocal altercations when friends begin talking about where the best beef is. But what I find most interesting about this sandwich/treasure is that there are many different toppings available to you which all change the sandwich immensely. And while there are arguments about which way is the best to get it, there are some basic sensorial observations about each condiment, topping, bun type, size, etc. and the overall eating experience of the sandwich.
Now, you may be thinking “Kelsey, I don’t live in New England. Why are you sharing this with me.” To which I say this is an article that is also a piece of commentary about local food. While Edible Boston always chooses to highlight everything created local right here near our doorsteps, this sandwich has almost no ingredients sourced locally. However, the universal colloquial experience of this sandwich makes it decidedly local nonetheless. So there is a great few paragraphs about how important local food, in all of its forms, is important to a place’s identity. Also, keep reading to the bottom–there’s a fun flavor matrix as I take the science to a tongue-in-cheek level. Enjoy!
An excerpt from the Edible piece
“Food with a sense of place.”
The very phrase conjures up pretty images of local farms, wild foraged plants, farm-to-fork restaurants and farmer’s markets across city landscapes—all things celebrated by this magazine on a regular (and near exclusive) basis.
But there is another category of food, also very much defined by its origins: Every region of this country has its particular local delicacies, and many don’t contain a single ingredient grown or raised in the community, but they are still central to the culinary makeup of the area. In fact, Boston is famous as much for its native clam chowder and boiled lobster as it is to Fluffernutters and Fenway franks. And while here at Edible it is always important to us to highlight local farmers, fishermen and the food grown and raised here, our region’s gastronomic identity depends on both categories of this “local food.”
To the North Shore of Boston, the roast beef sandwich is the best example of a truly local specialty. Roast beef isn’t popular there because there’s a big North Shore cattle industry; sure, there are a few meat farms in Essex County, but this sandwich’s ingredients are always sourced from national distribution services such as Sysco and US Foods. In fact, the modern roast beef sandwich is thought to have been born in Revere at Kelly’s in 1951—on a whim—after a whole roast beef, leftover from a cancelled wedding, was sliced thin and served up plain on bread at their hot dog stand. It was a hit. And since that fateful day, myriad variations have popped up, adding cheese, sauce, mayo, pickles and more to the mix, each sandwich “combo” lending completely different flavors and textures to the plain beef and bread.
Creamy, tangy, spicy, crunchy: Everyone on the North Shore has a strong opinion about which toppings to choose and which beef shop is best. The beef rivalry between towns like Salem, Peabody and Lynn is very real, and diners should be prepared to discuss the beef-to-bun (B2B) ratio if they’re going to engage in it. They’re really serious about their sandwiches up there.
A food scientist by trade, I recently spent a few weeks mapping sensory points around the anatomy of toppings and condiments on a North Shore beef sandwich and how they affect the overall experience, a vital exercise for both the beef novice and experienced local. Insert tongue in cheek now. We’re about to get scientific about a sandwich.
One caveat and warning: I’m a novice when it comes to roast beef. I’m from Minnesota, and my first beef sandwich came from an Arby’s counter at the mall. It was obviously… subpar. However, since moving to the Boston area, I’ve approached the local beef sandwich with fresh eyes and no bias. I tried all the toppings and in all the ways in an attempt to find the best possible combination—here are my notes from this very “scientific” approach to this local delicacy.
For the rest of the article and more photos (plus the flavor matrix y’all!), head on over to Edible.
