The McDonalds of Vietnamese sandwiches

Karen said she didn't want to hype it up too much, but how could she not? Vietnamese sandwiches that were good, made with bread freshly baked in-house, in a space that was clean and spacious, and only a few blocks away from my parent's house in LA. I tried to not be excited as we drove over to the Lee's Sandwiches.

My eyes widened as we entered the sandwich shop. Karen was right. This was no ordinary Vietnamese sandwich shop. This one was huge, with a large, colorful, brightly-lit menu board, rope that partitioned off the line, at least half a dozen workers wearing matching uniforms, large standing ovens and rolling racks stacked with fresh baguettes, seating for at least forty people, and, to top it all off, a large, real Christmas tree complete with lights and decorations in the middle. I grabbed on to Jeanne's arms, as we walked toward the line and eyed the menu board.

I was overwhelmed, and asked Jeanne what to order. We got three #11 (Special Combination) sandwiches and a meat pastry called pork chaud. I had no idea what the pork chuad was; it looked familiar but I couldn't remember if I had them in Paris or with my dad's old Vietnamese friends. It was a round of pastry with a ball of savory pork filling inside. The pastry alone was good; it was flaky and buttery, like puff pastry, and had picked up the flavor of the meat filling. I wished there were more savory meat pastries.

The sandwiches were good too. The sandwich was long and narrow, filled with various pork products. There was smidgen of pork pate smudged atop the bread, slices of an almost fluorescent pink headcheese, and slices of a pork loaf. The pickled carrots and daikon radish were crisp. And, the cilantro and thin slices of jalapenos added an extra bit of freshness and spice. The bread was great too, chewy with a crisp outer crust. I rounded off my meal with a cold and refreshing chrysanthemum tea. The whole meal (three sandwiches, one pork pastry, two coffees, and one tea) totalled a little more than $15; what a deal! I was in Vietnamese sandwich heaven!

As we sat there eating, I couldn't help but notice all the people coming in and out, ordering sandwiches, and leaving with loaves of baguettes. They weren't your usual Vietnamese sandwich shop customers (or, rather, none that I'm used to seeing around here). There was a group of four high school-aged, hipster-looking (a couple were even wearing an outfit similar to mine: brown blazer with grey hoodie underneath, jeans, and Chuck Taylors) Latino kids . There was an Asian dad with two young girls, both wearing convertible sneaker-rollerskates and who skidded across the floor. There was a middle-aged Latino man who carried four baguettes wrapped in paper out the door. And, there was us. For just the slightest moment, it felt like I was at the United Nations of Vietnamese sandwich shops.

But, with the growing number of Lee's Sandwiches across not just Southern California but the entire US, would they eat up all the little mom and pop Vietnamese sandwich shops? Sure, I'm a fan of clean dining spaces, food made in-house, order and routine, and regulated quality control, but I also am fond of the dinky sandwich shop that only seats six and has only one lady working the counter that I go to in San Francisco's Tenderloin. Lee's Sandwiches is the McDolaldization of Vietnamese sandwich shops, and I don't know how fond I am of that.

We'll see what happens. There's a Lee Sandwiches that was scheduled to open in San Francisco in December 2006. It's down the street from the other Vietnamese sandwich shops on Larkin in Little Saigon. I Google mapped it; it's only about a mile away from my house. I have it scheduled to be one of my first meals in San Francisco for 2007.