The wife and I were walking along 9th Ave. on Friday evening and spotted a sign in a window boasting Donut Ice Cream sandwiches. The picture on the sign made it clear that they meant ice cream sandwiched between two halves of a donut, and not a sandwich made out of donut-flavored ice cream, though I’m sure that would be delicious too.

Anyway, obviously I knew I had to have that, so after dinner we stopped by the place — Holey Cream, on 9th and 53rd.

The guys behind the counter were extremely liberal with samples, which was cool since they had a lot of worthwhile ice cream flavors to try. When I asked to order a donut ice cream sandwich, though, the guy asked if I could wait two minutes.

Since there was no one else in the store, I had no idea what was up. Turned out the dude was looking out for me; about a minute later he pulled from somewhere — we smelt it before we saw it — a tray of freshly baked piping hot donuts. Sweet.

You first pick an icing for the donut. I went with chocolate, because I sometimes find vanilla icing on donuts a little too sweet and I knew I’d be stuffing the thing with ice cream besides.

Second, you pick a topping for the donut. I went with crumbled Oreos, because duh.

Last, you choose an ice cream. Here’s where I screwed up a bit, I think. I went with their red velvet flavor based on the delicious, cream-cheesy sample I tasted, but without realizing that there were big hunks of legit red velvet cake in the red velvet ice cream.

On any other occasion, that would be a major win. If it were a hot fudge sundae or something, obviously you want the cake in there. But in this particular instance, since the donut was providing all the cake I needed, the extra cake in the ice cream threw off the ice cream:cake ratio a little bit.

And look: Let it never be said that there can be too much cake. One of my favorite quotes of all time comes from my buddy Ripps, who said: “I’m going to die someday. And when I die, on my deathbed, I’m going to say, ‘I should have had more cake.'”

But great sandwiches are all about proportions and I botched this. For this I am a bit ashamed. Also, the red velvet ice cream was particularly sweet even by ice cream standards, and since there were donuts and icing and Oreo crumbles also in play, I might have picked something a little more straightforward.

All that said, the thing was still amazing. It was excellent ice cream on top of a fresh donut. The wife immediately advocated it for the Sandwich Hall of Fame, but after some consideration I talked her out of it. That pantheon is reserved for perfection and near-perfection, and there were some clear flaws in this sandwich — even if they were all my fault.

The good news is that it’s fully customizable, so I’ll be able to take a shot at a Hall of Fame sandwich next time I go, which will probably happen the next time I pass the place.

Check out the sidebar. I think I got all of them, but if you remember any Hall of Fame sandwiches I missed, let me know and I’ll add ’em.

I made the executive decision to put the heretofore unrated Defonte’s of Brooklyn hot roast beef sandwich in the hall. Call it a Veteran’s Committee selection. I came to the decision based on a combination of the many strong recommendations from sandwich enthusiasts I trust with my own growing desire to eat another and recollection that — in addition to having eaten the sandwich at an inopportune moment, I was a bit sick the day I tried it. And it was still really delicious. So I assume that’s a worthy Hall of Fame sandwich in optimal conditions.

If you hover over a link, the description will provide the name and location of each sandwich’s purveyor. Or just click through for full details of the sandwich. And also because you love giving me more page views.

I wish I could figure out some way to make plaques, but I don’t think it’d be fair to the sandwiches to depict them in bronze. Also, I’m extremely lazy. So this will have to do for now.

To make room for the Sandwich Hall of Fame, I’ve killed the Twitter feed widget, which never worked right for some reason. But I’ve placed the Sandwich Hall of Fame below Embarrassing Things About Cole Hamels, because nothing in the Sandwich Hall of Fame directly relates to anything embarrassing about Cole Hamels.

Reader Daniel passes along the news that two of the food trucks from the Vendys — the Souvlaki GR truck (2010 Vendys Rookie of the Year) and Schnitzel & Things, purveyors of a Hall of Fame sandwich — will open storefront locations in Manhattan. The Souvlaki GR restaurant will be in the Lower East Side and Schnitzel & Things will be at 46th and 3rd, not an unreasonable walk from my office for a sandwich of that caliber.

I say awesome. In both cases, the original truck will stay on the road, so it’s not like it means anyone will have more limited access to the food. Naturally, whenever anyplace expands from a single establishment to multiple ones, there’s concern about quality control. But these are two very good food trucks, and you have to figure if they didn’t care a lot about quality they wouldn’t be making such delicious food.

In the Schnitzel & Things SOTW post, I wondered about the future of food trucks. This is not one of the directions I imagined it going, but hey, cool. Perhaps food trucks will prove a legitimate way for restaurateurs to test out their shtick before investing in real estate. You figure it’s great for marketing, too. After all, I’ll now go to the Schnitzel & Things restaurant because I already know their food is good because they drove it near my office and dangled it in front of my face.

Oh, and for those concerned about the food-truck folks spreading themselves too thing I’ll add this: In 2001, on a drive from DC to Virginia to buy me a computer desk for my junior year of college, my dad and I discovered Five Guys. At the time, I believe there were only three locations — all in Northern Virginia. The burgers were delicious and fully customizable, the fries were peanut-oily and cajuny, the decor was white, red and black. I was so impressed that my roommates and I made a habit out of the 20-minute drive. There was also a Krispy Kreme right nearby, and from the start of that year ’til my graduation I believe I put on around 30 pounds.

My will power is a little stronger now, but Five Guys is no less awesome. And there are like a billion Five Guys all over the country. So there’s that.

Incidentally, in researching the number of Five Guys around the country, I discovered that one will soon open in White Plains, not far from my home. So look for me getting significantly fatter in the coming months.

On Sept. 5, 2010, my life forever changed. I ate a breaded steak sandwich from Ricobene’s in Chicago. Here’s what I wrote a few days later:

When I finished, I stumbled out to the curb, dizzy and delirious. A couple of cops pulled up, and instinct told me to run — I felt like I had just done something illegal. I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t bring myself to leave the front of the restaurant.

I knew I had to leave Chicago the next morning, but I tried to consider ways I could have another breaded steak sandwich before I did. I thought about walking back in and ordering another right then even though the coma was already setting in.

Not knowing what else to do, I tweeted a few nonsensical things. Playing with my phone gave me an excuse to keep standing there.

It started raining. I kept standing there. I knew I probably looked like a crazy person. I didn’t care. I was a crazy person. I was standing outside a restaurant, right next to a live-poultry market and under the freeway overpass, in some odd area of a city I don’t know because I couldn’t tear myself away after eating an inconceivably good sandwich.

Some three and a half months later, my mouth still waters whenever I remember that sandwich. The tender breaded steak, the sweet marinara, the fiery giardiniera, the cheesy cheese. Just thinking about it frustrates me now because I can’t have one whenever I want. I try to think of excuses to get back to Chicago. I’m pushing my wife toward pursuing a residency there. The sandwich was that good.

Sometimes I wonder if I could reproduce it myself at home. I have a deep fryer, after all, and certainly I can make marinara. A bunch of places online will deliver hot giardiniera. After bbilko suggested in the comments section that I make Sept. 5 a TedQuarters holiday, I targeted that as the date I should attempt the sandwich. Problem is I want one sooner. Could I pull it off? Would it even come close to the original?

Doubtful. That was one hell of a sandwich, the best I ate this year and among the best I’ve ever eaten. The only reason it fell to No. 3 on the Top 10 Things is that I only had one of them and I destroyed it so quickly, fleeting wonderment. Also because it set the bar for other sandwiches unreasonably high. Someone please open a Ricobene’s franchise in New York.