Yes, Cuban B! Sandwich Week continues.

The Sandwich: A Cuban sandwich, from the kitchen of the analog TedQuarters in Westchester.

I understand there’s some debate as to what constitutes an “authentic” Cuban sandwich, just like some people will tell you there should never be lettuce in a burrito because burritos were originally intended to be brought out to fields by farm workers and lettuce would have wilted or rotted in the heat.

It’s all nonsense. Trace any food item back to its roots and you’ll find it developed out of some sort of cultural exchange. There’s no need to stop the timeline of sandwich evolution at one specific point. Whether or not this is the exact sandwich made in Cuba is immaterial. This is my interpretation of the popular Cuban sandwich.

The construction: We used smaller Portuguese rolls instead of Cuban or French bread because, well, I plan to eat a lot of sandwiches this week and I’d prefer not to die. On one side I put yellow mustard, on the other I put an aioli I made (that’s right, I make aioli) with roasted garlic and hot peppers from our garden.

I sliced leftover pork from the tenderloin I hickory-smoked on Sunday afternoon and put it on the roll with deli ham, provolone and sandwich-stacker pickles. Then I lightly buttered the top and bottom of the roll and pressed the whole thing in a Foreman grill until the cheese melted and the bread was slightly browned.

Important background information: I am not Cuban. My friend Charlie, who inadvertently turned TedQuarters into SandwichQuarters with a text message last week, is Cuban, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him enjoying a Cuban sandwich. He’s obviously a man of distinguishing sandwich taste, though, so I have no doubt he would.

What it looks like:

How it tastes: Damn good, if I do say so myself. The smoky flavor of the pork was honestly a bit overwhelming when we ate the pork on its own Sunday night, but in context of the sandwich it was just a nice extra kick. And it was really tender, too — no need to worry about big pieces of pork sliding out of the sandwich when you bit into it. Even consistency is an important factor in sandwich goodness.

The garlic and hot pepper aioli was real, real good, too. I’ve never gardened before in my life, but it turns out there’s something amazingly satisfying about growing your own vegetables, especially when you’re going to smash them and mix them with mayonnaise. Holy crap, look at all these cucumbers and peppers. And they’re all free now thanks to all that work we did a few months ago! Screw you, ShopRite, we don’t need your string beans anymore.

The bread was good too. And the pickles were predictably delicious. The cheese tasted like cheese. Awesome, awesome cheese.

The only problem was that, between the mayo, the ham and the butter on the roll, it was a bit greasy. Sat kinda heavy in the stomach.

What it’s worth: Well like I said, we planted the peppers months ago so that didn’t take much work. Roasting the garlic and putting it all in the Chopster then mixing it with mayonnaise wasn’t hard either. I smoked the pork Sunday and this was just leftover, so that was gravy, so to speak. Plus my wife picked up the ham, pickles and rolls at the grocery store so that didn’t require any work on my part. Basically, the only thing I had to do was construct the sandwich and throw it on the Foreman grill, which took all of five minutes.

So since the cost was minimal and the benefit in deliciousness was high, this was sandwich was a huge net win. Actually I thought it was better than the Chilean number that rated as one of NY Magazine’s Top 101 sandwiches in New York, so I’m patting myself on the back for that. It was good enough I feel the need to come up with some sort of completely arbitrary numerical rating system for the series.

The rating: 78 out of 100. I have very high standards, and a sandwich needs to be worth traveling great distances for to crack 90 and life-changing to hit 100. A 78 is a very good sandwich. And I’m going to go back and give the Chacarero Completo a 56.

It’s Sandwich Week here on TedQuarters. Why? Several reasons:

1) There’s no real baseball for the next three days, and I generally find the All-Star Game pretty boring. (Notable exception: When Pedro Martinez struck out Barry Larkin, Larry Walker, Sammy Sosa, Mark McGwire and Jeff Bagwell over two innings in 1999.)

2) The last several posts about sandwiches have been popular, and I give the people what they want.

3) I’m already certain I’m eating a sandwich for dinner tonight, so, you know, one post in the bag.

4) Why do I need to give you so many reasons why it’s Sandwich Week? Sandwiches are awesome. Leave me alone.

Anyway, basically the format of Sandwich Week is as follows: I eat a bunch of sandwiches and then write about them here.

I’m partly using the New York Magazine list of Top 101 Sandwiches in New York as a guide, even though I’m certain that list is a bit pretentious. I’m also seeking recommendations — Alex Belth provided tomorrow’s sandwich destination already — so if you know of any notably awesome sandwiches please say so. The only qualification is that it has to be somewhere reasonably accessible to Midtown Manhattan or Central Westchester. I don’t have all day to travel for great sandwiches. That is my dream, though. Someday…

Anywho, here goes nothing:

The Sandwich: Chacarero Completo from Barros Luco, 300 1/2 E. 52nd St. in Manhattan.

The Construction: Thinly sliced steak with string beans, mayo, white cheese, avocado and a banana-pepper/cilantro sauce on fresh-baked Chilean bread. The sandwich comes with tomatoes, too, but I ordered mine without them because they’re not my cup of tea.

Important background information: Barros Luco the eatery is named for the “Barros Luco,” a popular Chilean sandwich that is in turn named for former Chilean president and mustache hero Ramon Barros Luco. The Wikipedia doesn’t make his presidency sound particularly notable, but obviously the man should be celebrated for popularizing steak-and-cheese sandwiches in Chile.

While he doesn’t deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence as the great John Montagu, the 4th Earl of Sandwich and inventor of the sandwich, clearly Ramon Barros Luco was a smart dude and venerable statesman.

What it looks like:

I pulled off a half a slice of bread for the purposes of the photo. It was a complete sandwich, obviously.

How it tastes: This was a good sandwich, but not a great one.

The big innovation the Chacarero Completo offers is the use of string beans on a sandwich, which I’m not sure I’ve ever encountered before. But while I like string beans on their own, they were a bit overpowering on the sandwich, which didn’t have a ton of flavor otherwise. In fact, the hot, fresh-baked bread should have been the best part of the sandwich, but even on its own it just tasted like all the string-bean flavor it soaked up.

Still, the sandwich was moist throughout, the smashed avocados were creamy and delicious, and the melted cheese was, well, melted cheese. The steak was a bit tough and entirely lacked seasoning, which wouldn’t have mattered, I don’t think, if I tasted more of the aji verde (banana pepper and cilantro sauce). A closer look at the menu revealed that I could have ordered the sandwich with the slightly spicier aji rojo sauce, and if I find my way to Barros Luco again, I probably will.

There was a bottle ketchup on the table, so I tried dipping the sandwich in some. That helped a lot; it added a little sweetness to what was a pretty salty sandwich. Maybe the tomato would have balanced out the sandwich a bit, but like I said, I’m no fan of that fruit/vegetable/whatever. I like tomato-based products but not the thing itself. Weird texture, I think.

What it’s worth: I haven’t decided exactly how to rate sandwiches in Sandwich Week, and I may come up with something better, but I figure a good way to measure a sandwich’s excellence is to compare it with the cost. For the Chacarero Completo, I walked about a half a mile and spent $8.

The price was more than reasonable —  I am still very full and I ate the sandwich nearly two hours ago. Worth the walk, though? I’m not sure. Like I said, this was a solid sandwich, but I don’t think it was a destination sandwich. If you happen upon Barros Luco, by all means, check it out. But I wouldn’t go too far out of my way for a Chacarero Completo. It was certainly interesting, with the string beans and all, but not outstanding.