As St. Patrick’s Day quickly approaches, I’ve been thinking about corned beef. It’s the classic St. Patty’s day fare, served alongside cabbage. Last year I was heartily disappointed when I trekked to my local Irish pub the night before the holiday hoping to get some corned beef and cabbage. Can you believe they ran out of the dish by six o’clock?
Oh well, corned beef and cabbage isn’t even my favorite preparation for the pink, cured meat. Indeed, if I’m having corned beef, I always prefer it in a nice Reuben sandwich. After all, it’s the greatest sandwich ever invented.
Of course that’s just an opinion, but I don’t think I’m alone when I say it. The thing I love most about the Reuben is the shear genius required to invent it. I mean, the ingredients that come together to make the perfect Reuben are so disparate in scope and origin, but meld so wonderfully. Who would have ever thought to take corned beef, sauerkraut, Swiss cheese, and Russian dressing and grill them up between two slices of rye bread? It’s a stroke of genius, I tell you!
For me, the secret to the perfect Reuben, like so many other things, is the balance between the ingredients. There has to be enough dressing to keep the sandwich moist, but not too much so as to overpower the other flavors. There has to be just the right amount of meat — too much, and it’s hard to eat, too little and you lose the flavor. The sauerkraut has to be evenly distributed so that you get some of the pickled cabbage in every bite. All too often the sauerkraut is crammed into the center of the sandwich. Finally, it has to be grilled up so that the bread is crispy and the cheese is nicely melted.
Oh man, I need to go eat a Reuben…
Oh man. I had a reuben yesterday and now this post makes me want to walk over to the nearest deli (1 block away!) and get myself another one! if only it weren’t massively raining…
I second your nomination of the Reuben as the greatest sandwich ever invented.