Chicks slicing meat when I walked in the door count: 2
People in line count: 452
If there's one thing I like to eat, it's meat. (No matter how I rewrite that sentence it keeps coming out sounding gross, so you're just gonna have to get your mind out of the meat gutter.) And Great Outdoors has the badassest sandwich for that kind of craving. They call it The Great Outdoorsman; I call it my favorite sub sandwich in Dallas. Favorite for two reasons: 1) because it's ridiculously tasty and 2) because for only $8.06 I get a huge meatwich, jalapeño chips and a drink. There are a few different locations around town, but for me, the Belt Line Road location in Addison serves up the most consistently perfect representation of what a sub sandwich from the Great Outdoors should be: It's piled high with the aforementioned meatstival, it's not overloaded with lettuce, it's got the perfect mayo to mustard ratio, and there's at least one guy there behind the counter wearing a gold chain.
When I say that this sandwich has a lot of meat on it, I mean it has a lot of fuckin' meat on it. It's cold-cut heaven. Turkey pastrami? Check. Cappicola? Check. Spiced ham? Check. Salami? Check. Bologna? Check. Pepperoni? Wait for it...check. There's enough cured meat on this thing for you to build your own meat heart after the human heart you're about to fuck up calls it a day. I always order mine on wheat with the works, which includes lettuce, red onions, 'matoes, vinegar, oil, Parmesan and other stuff, plus pickles. And not just any pickles. Claussen pickles. The Claussen pickle provides a crunchy, garlicky taste budpalooza that other pickles just don't have. In the pickle world, Claussen pickles are like God and all other pickles are like Jesus. Sure, they're both totally all-powerful and awesome, but Jesus totally wishes he could smell of sweet garlicky garlic like God does. The works also comes with mayo and spicy mustard (because when given the choice between spicy and unspicy, only pussies choose unspicy).
If you're looking for nutrition facts on this bad boy, don't. The facts about this sandwich aren't the good kind of truth. It's more like the you-walked-in-on-your-grandparents kind of truth. Burns the eyes.