Gandolfo's New York Deli Food Truck: So Much Meat the Cheap Bastard is Frightened

Tired of spending $10 for a mediocre lunch? Let the Cheap Bastard show you how to spend way less for something better, every Thursday on City of Ate and in the Dallas Observer. This week: Gandolfo's New York Deli Food Truck.

Minutes I waited for food: 3 Times the guy holding the sign winked and thumbs-upped oncoming traffic: 497

Driving through the Design District totally lost (except for the fact that I knew I was in the Design District because of the signs on every tree, lamppost and fire hydrant that label the area as such; you'd think that of all places, the Design District would know that less is more), I saw a guy and a girl smiling really big and waving their hands crazily in the middle of the road. They had that hysterical, freaking-out waving thing going on that only high-school car-wash girls and people in actual emergencies do.

As I drove closer it became clear that there were neither car wash boobies (sad face) nor bleedings (sad face). These two were begging for business. The guy was holding a giant sign that read, "Gandolfo's gourmet New York deli food truck: How good is it? FORGEDDABOUTIT!" Blinker. Pulled over. You had me at "tit," Gandolfo's.

Their recently expanded menu now offers 30 different New York deli-style sandwiches. I asked the nice lady in the truck window which sandwich was her favorite: "Pastrami on rye, hands down." Deal. "Russian or spicy mustard?" Uh. "You want Russian all the way." Just like I always say at ice-skater contests.

The heated sandwich arrived with Russian dressing-soaked marble rye, gooey Swiss cheese and approximately 12 million pounds of pastrami. All right, so maybe my eyeballs aren't that great at weighing things. But it was a lot. It was what you expect from a NY deli sandwich. And it's what I truly fear about them.

The equivalent amount of meat in a burger patty doesn't frighten me at all. Even throw a pound of brisket in front of me and that doesn't phase me. But there's something about the sight of that much thinly sliced, sloppily stacked pastrami on a sandwich that gives me the heart hurts.

The first bite was messy, squirty, NY deli-sandwich perfection. The pastrami itself was pretty standard. I'd put it on par with Cindi's. But the whole sandwich, with the toasted rye, dripping dressing -- it was great. If you like that sort of thing.

Gandolfo's, I completely respect and enjoy you, but at the same time I fucking fear you. For me, you are the Joan Rivers of sandwich shops.

Visit twitter.com/gandolfosdallas for its rolling schedule.

We use cookies to collect and analyze information on site performance and usage, and to enhance and customize content and advertisements. By clicking 'X' or continuing to use the site, you agree to allow cookies to be placed. To find out more, visit our cookies policy and our privacy policy.


Join the Observer community and help support independent local journalism in Dallas.


Join the Observer community and help support independent local journalism in Dallas.