So, a new restaurant’s got to have a gimmick, right? It’s not enough to sell sandwiches, there has to be dancing servers, or a motorcycle theme, or at LEAST a commitment to ingredients grown within 37 miles of the establishment.
Which Wich has a gimmick. It’s a sandwich joint with a DIY gimmick. You check off the things you want on your sandwich on a little brown bag, then the deli crew does the work, filling the bag with a sandwich that meets the checklist.
This is cool for a couple of reasons. First, you know the thing where you stand in line behind someone who has never, in their life, ever ordered a sandwich? It goes something like this:
“I’d like a… sandwich with… um, is there ham? Okay, not ham: uh, corned beef. With, ummmmmmm lettuce and –excuse me? What kind of bread? Oh, what kind do you have? Are those gluten-free? …”
That never happens. You’ll never stand behind that person in line at Which Wich because those decisions will be made at a little side table before queuing up at the counter.
The second cool thing about the Which Wich gimmick is that it’s super good for control freaks. The sort of person who is constantly paranoid that the order will not be faithfully transcribed by the clerk — that person has no worries, because there is no transcribing.
And besides, big eaters can score a sandwich as long as a human arm.
Sandwiches come in three basic sizes; small, medium and large. If you’re going to go arm-long large, you might as well go with something excessive like five meats and three cheeses. There’s a bag for excessive people; they fill out the checklist on the “Wicked” bag, it also happens to be the house “signature” sandwich.
The Wicked was designed with turkey, ham, pepperoni, roast beef and bacon. The deli meats are all shaved super thin and blend together. There’s a big selection of cheeses to choose from (including Cheez Whiz and feta), American, Swiss and cheddar seemed like reasonable choices for the combo.
Oh, there are more decisions. There are vegetables and four categories of sauces, five if you count “oils and spices”. It’s a lot of decision-ing, so in desperation, Dijon was picked from the mustard category, along with some lettuce and avocado, and voila: super sandwich.
It was good. It was also $13, but that included the massive size, an up-charge for lots of meat, and an up-charge for lots of avocado.
More modest appetites can opt for something normal-sized in a Grinder. For $8.25, you can score a 10″ sub filled with salami, capicola and pepperoni -the last of which is surprisingly dewy and fresh. It’s good with provolone, lettuce and oil and vinegar (but guests can make their own decisions).
You can even get a plain-ish turkey sandwich, with swiss and mayo on a 7-inch wheat bun for $5.50.
There is a downside to DIY, especially if cooking is maybe not your forte. It seemed like a good idea to kill off the RDA of vegetables at Which Wich, so a lettuce wrap was ordered with pesto, artichokes, mushrooms and spinach. The lettuce was the good-for-you leafy kind, and although the ingredients were fresh and lovely… it wasn’t awesome together. “Catawampus” might be the best word for the combo. Cheese, lots of cheese, might have saved it.
In any case, the pesto deserved a better sandwich designer. Maybe next time.
Which Wich can be found at 5450 Westpointe Plaza in Hilliard. It’s part of a national chain and the first of its kind in the Columbus.
More information can be found online at www.whichwich.com.
Photos by Mollie Lyman of www.fornixphotography.com.
