Point Blank TV: Chris Botta on the Isles’ move
Video
Sandwich of the Week
I drove to and from South Carolina last week and ate many fine sandwiches, but none worthy of the distinction of Sandwich of the Week. Then I walked around the corner from my apartment and got this.
The sandwich: Chicken parmigiana hero from Luigi’s, 88th St. and 1st Ave. in Manhattan.
The construction: Breaded chicken cutlets with marinara sauce and mozzarella cheese on Italian bread. I added black pepper and red pepper because… wait, I shouldn’t have to explain that.
Important background information: If you live in the New York metropolitan area, it’s a pretty safe bet you’re no more than 15 minutes away from a pizzeria like Luigi’s at any given time. That’s not to take anything away from Luigi’s, but rather to celebrate one of the very best things about living in the New York metropolitan area. If you are a person of distinguishing taste — and if you’re reading this blog, you’re very likely a person of distinguishing taste — you likely spend the first several months of living in any new location determining your finest local option for pizza. When I lived in Westchester, it was Thornwood Pizza. In Brooklyn, Antonio’s. In Rockville Centre, Sal’s, then Gino’s. Now, in my pocket of the Upper East Side, it’s Luigi’s.
What it looks like:
How it tastes: Familiar. Grounding. Awesome.
Sometimes I get away from myself. I work so hard to find new and interesting sandwiches to write about that I overlook the amazing sandwiches that define the medium’s excellence. Do you know how many stupid, fancy sandwiches I’ve eaten that are basically one thin slice of meat, a soft cheese and some type of indistinct sweet goo on crusty artisanal bread for $11? Those kill ’em in the larger sandwich-reviewing circuit, it seems, but they’re not for me. I finish them, then shrug and think, “That was all right, I guess.” But I know no one comes here to look at a grainy photo of a paltry sandwich with a review that says only “all right, I guess.” And I’m not about to tell you the delightful essences of fig in the goo complemented the cheese’s earthy undertones and suggest you spend your hard-earned $11 on a sandwich that didn’t actually inspire me.
TedQuarters is for the people, I’ll remind you, and the people deserve the truth. And the truth is, based on my exhaustive research, roughly half of the sandwiches you’ll see in any food blog’s list of top sandwiches aren’t as good as the chicken parm hero from the best pizzeria in your neighborhood. Look at that thing. It’s f-ing perfect.
You can’t tell the scale from that photo, but it’s massive — a foot long, at least. That’s pretty standard for the chicken parm hero from the best pizzeria in your neighborhood, too. It should easily be enough food for two meals, but I have never been able to stop myself halfway through.
Because it is finished in the pizza oven, the crust of the bread becomes toasty enough to provide all the crunch a sandwich could need. Meanwhile, the sauce goes to work on the inside of the bread, soaking its way into all the crevices, adding tangy flavor and softening the loaf, ensuring that the sturdy vehicle required to carry all the meat is never overbearing.
The chicken mostly provides the meaty bulk to make the sandwich satisfying. A bad pizzeria might screw up and provide rubbery chicken, one of the primary risks inherent in the chicken parm hero. But a good pizzeria like Luigi’s gives you tender chicken, its breading aptly seasoned.
And at this point, how much more effusive praise could possibly be heaped upon melted mozzarella cheese? It adds creamy, stringy texture, and subtle, cheesy flavor, and perhaps most importantly, helps bind the chicken to the bread. It’s melted mozzarella cheese, though, so you know all about it.
This sandwich will fall short of the Hall of Fame, but only because it’s a chicken parm hero. And though it meets my expectations for a chicken parm hero, my expectations for a chicken parm hero are so high that one would need to go above and beyond to land itself in the sidebar. I suspect if I never had one before, this would be a whole different conversation.
Also, if you told me that the first sandwich ever conceived and created was a chicken parm hero, I wouldn’t believe you. The construction of the chicken parm hero is so brilliant that if sandwiches started there, I imagine they would have stayed right there for hundreds of years and we wouldn’t have nearly the diversity of sandwiches we do today.
What it’s worth: $9. And like I said, it should be plenty for two meals.
How it rates: 84 out of 100.
Mark Sanchez again available
Typically celebrity-romance stuff gets ignored on TedQuarters, but when it involves Mark Sanchez it is noted. The Sanchize’s representatives told US Weekly that he broke up with Eva Longoria recently despite how he “adores and respects” her, and that the split was “about scheduling more than anything else.” Sounds like stuff I’d say if I got dumped, but I can’t imagine anyone ever dumping Mark Sanchez unless a) he’s a real, real jackass in person or b) Eva Longoria’s a WFAN-caller Jets fan and is crushing on Tim Tebow.
When you’re famous, your representatives have to confirm the particulars of your relationships to magazines. How long after your breakup do you let your PR people know about it? Do you allow a few days for things to cool off in case you both regret it and get back together, or are you texting your agent throughout the process for support? Either way it seems weird. (When it’s a marriage or a very long-term relationship, it always makes me sad to see it detailed in headlines. I know it comes with the territory for celebrities, but really, we’re going to get all up in Rhea Perlman’s business when she separates from Danny DeVito? This woman has been with Danny DeVito for 40 years. You can’t convince me that’s not a deep and powerful type of love, something that deserves better than to split a tabloid cover with something crazy Octomom did.)
Any, back to Sanchez: Hey Mark Sanchez, if you’re looking to get back out there and Scotty McKnight’s busy, I make a hell of a wingman. It won’t be weird or anything, I promise. I’m happily married so you don’t have to worry about me competing with you for female attention. Also, the juxtaposition with me will make you look really awesome at football. And then if things don’t work out for you that night, we can hit up Taco Bell for Fourthmeal and talk about sports and girls and stuff. Oh, also, my sister works in Broadway and I know a lot about plays. Does Nick Mangold know a lot about plays? Call me, bro. Use the boat phone if you must.
![]()
Link
Islanders moving from one of my old neighborhoods to another one of my old neighborhoods
Here are some jokes I already tweeted. Sorry to repeat myself but it’s really all I’ve got: Brooklyn makes so much sense for the Islanders because the best way to appreciate the Islanders is ironically.
I’ve read a lot about how the Barclays Center is unfit for hockey. What I failed to consider: Neither is Nassau Coliseum.

Seriously, though — and not-tweeted-yet: Good for all us kind-of, sort-of Islanders fans who hang out within a few blocks of the Barclays Center pretty frequently and like going to live sporting events even if we don’t really follow the team that closely. And good for the Islanders for finding a way out of Nassau Coliseum. And good for anyone who works in the vicinity of Nassau Coliseum — my mom included — for not having to suffer the traffic anymore.
Presumably very bad for the franchisee of that one McDonald’s.
Despite growing up about 10 minutes from Nassau Coliseum, I never really took to the Islanders. But I had some great times at Islanders games there regardless. One time I was at Dental Hygiene Awareness night with my brother when play had to be stopped twice due to Dental Hygiene Awareness posters turned into paper airplanes.
After college, a couple of my friends and I discovered the Islanders offered half-price student discounts on Tuesday nights and that our college IDs were still valid. We were all living at home after graduating, mind you, and I think we were all getting a little tired of the arrangement. So even though none of us followed hockey, we’d go to Islanders games every Tuesday night and take out our frustration by booing nearly everything that happened. Also: Eating tons of nachos.
Don’t sleep on the Nassau Coliseum nachos.
What’s to be done with Wilmer Flores?
In short, I don’t know. In long:
Wilmer Flores will someday hit like a Major Leaguer. Of that we can be somewhat confident, or at least as confident as we ever can be when dealing with 21-year-old prospects. Flores’ .855 OPS after his promotion to Double-A Binghamton ranked him 11th in the Eastern League in the stat, and — perhaps more importantly — he was the youngest player in the top 25. (The only younger player in the league’s Top 50, Manny Machado, wound up playing an important role in the Orioles’ unlikely postseason run.)
Though I try not to put too much stock in the subjective determinations of human scouts (important though they are), pretty much every informed observer you will ever talk to or hear from loves Flores’ swing. And if you see him connect with a pitch, it’s easy to see why: In one swift, seemingly effortless gust, his weight shifts forward, his hands rocket through the zone and the ball explodes off his bat. It’s especially impressive when juxtaposed with how awkward the gawky 21-year-old can look elsewhere on the field.
Therein lies the issue: Until this season, Flores exclusively played shortstop even though no one ever really seemed to think he’d stick at the position. In 2012, he played 87 games at third base, 27 games at second and seven at first. At Baseball America, J.J. Cooper suggested his limited range at third base could be an issue moving forward, which certainly does not bode well for his range at second base. And given Flores’ lack of footspeed, no one seems to think he’ll ever be able to handle the outfield (though, for what it’s worth, someone somewhere seemed to think Lucas Duda could).
The Mets currently have the best position player in franchise history at third base, and by most accounts they’re trying to lock David Wright up to a long-term extension. At first base, they have “Smirnoff” Ike Davis, a steady defender and one of their few big home-run threats, a young and at least capable Major League regular under team control through arbitration for the next four seasons.
So what’s do be done with Wilmer Flores? The Mets have a few options:
Trade Wright or Davis to make room: Whoa, whoa, whoa, cowboy. Wright and Davis are the Mets’ two best hitters. And though Flores appears plenty impressive for a guy his age, it’s far from a lock that he’ll ever match their offensive output. No player anywhere in the Mets’ system is likely to outproduce Wright anytime soon, and no player set for free agency anywhere on the horizon appears to match the Mets’ needs as well as Wright does. So if they have the money to spend on Wright that they claim to have, it’s likely best spent extending him. It depends on the deal, of course, for both contract extensions and potential trades. But the idea of trading a player on a Hall of Fame trajectory in the late part of his prime to make room for one with 66 games’ worth of experience above A-ball is silly. I hope you don’t need me to remind you of that, but I understand that we let our minds run buck wild sometimes when we think about prospects.
Though Davis’ contract status and home-run power make him a valuable commodity to the Mets, they would also make him a valuable commodity to any acquiring team. And the Mets have, in Duda, a lesser but — despite his struggles this season — likely adequate replacement. Actually — and I didn’t set out to make this argument — if the Mets could net a young, cost-controlled everyday outfielder in return for Davis, they might be best served with Duda at first and Flores waiting in the wings than with Davis at first and Duda rendered significantly less valuable by his inadequacy in the outfield.
If you look at the largest samples available, Davis has been a better hitter than Duda but not a way better hitter, plus he’s a year younger and a better fielder at first base. But the Mets might be able to make up for more than those differences by moving Davis for an upgrade elsewhere. To boot, it clears up the first-base logjam, allowing the club to further assess Duda’s bat without suffering his outfield defense while Flores irons out the kinks in Triple-A. Again, it always depends on the deal. And since this site appreciates Davis’ moonshots, it’s not an idea I’m ready to endorse. But I’d put it down for not the worst idea ever.
Trade Flores for another prospect or in a package for an everyday outfielder: I’ll be honest, I just don’t know nearly enough about what will be available and what Flores could bring back in a trade to say whether this works or not. (Depends on the deal, depends on the deal, etc.) I will say that the Mets, as currently constructed, should not often be in the business of trading away talented young position players even if it’s not clear they have a position.
Just keep doing what they’re doing: For as long as we’ve been hearing about Flores and for all the early reports of his winter ball dominance, he’s still likely not ready to contribute to the Major League club yet. His Double-A line translates to a .653 OPS in the Majors. He’s improving, and hopefully he’s improving rapidly. But plenty can happen before Flores reaches the Majors, so the Mets seem best served by staying the course with Flores, using him all over the infield and letting him force his way through their system. Maybe he quiets his doubters and proves capable at second base. If he destroys Pacific Coast League pitching in 2013, the Mets have a good problem on their hands. In baseball, with all its streaks and slumps and injuries, those have a way of working themselves out.
The past 1,000 words have meant nothing. Carry on.
Marlins keep doing Marlin stuff
As of a week ago, Ozzie Guillen was enjoying time in Europe with several of the Marlins in his charge. Today, there are no more Marlins in his charge. He has been sacked, despite the three years and $7.5 million remaining on his contract and despite the fact that the Marlins actually traded two players to get him.
If the 2012 Miami Marlins season was The Old Man and the Sea, we’re at the part where the great fish has been reduced to a skeleton and a weepy Giancarlo Stanton is bringing the newspaper to Jose Reyes. Or something.
I started to put together a timeline of things that the Marlins did in the past 12 months — the stadium opening the Clevelander, Guillen praising Fidel Castro, the team acquiring Carlos Lee, etc., etc. — but the task became overwhelming and I grew certain you’d see it elsewhere. It’d be a colorful sequence, for sure, mesmerizing in its ugliness, with so many seemingly incongruous elements operating in smooth communion to create something at once spectacular and alarming.
Which is to say, it’d look something like this:
Link
Pele Out Of Context in context
Reader and email correspondent Mark Weinstein set up a Tumblr worth checking out: Pele Out Of Context. It’s pretty much exactly what it sounds like, and features photos like this one:

Today, on Pele’s 72nd birthday, a Brazilian newspaper profiled the site. That’s entertaining enough on its own, but even better when Google-translated from the Portuguese:
Probably only three words are associated with the football so automatic: ball, goal and Pelé. With the help of the first two items, he reinvented the sport and thus was elevated to the rank of King. But not so complete that this gentleman today 72 years of life left to do everything that a mere mortal do in your everyday life.
Who knew this with great wit was the American Mark Weinstein, 37, who created the social network the Tumblr photo blog out of context Pelé (Pelé out of context). He, who works as a book editor and is also a writer, put practically every day pictures Athlete of the Century by doing everything except playing football.
“The idea came when I found myself repeatedly seeing pictures of Pelé off the field. Here is a guy who is arguably the most famous, most photographed athlete of all time (except for maybe Muhammad Ali) and I thought it would be very interesting (and funny) to just depict him as an ordinary person. Seeing the hero of millions making coffee or waiting for the dentist kind of turns the whole idea of celebrity (and celebrity worship) on its ear.”
Also, if you’re ever strapped for band names, just find a newspaper article in practically any other language and run it through an online translator and you’re sure to find something. I think I’d check out “Football So Automatic” if I saw their name on a marquee.
