The Sando With a Side of Fried Crust

Illustration: Igor Bastidas

On Instagram and TikTok, anything worth eating comes with a line. Whether social-media fame is sparked by an influencer or is the result of a concerted marketing effort to engineer a food’s viral moment, digital popularity does not always correlate to actual quality. With this in mind, our “Underground Gourmet” columnist queues up each month to try some of the city’s most-shared, most-liked foods to determine what Instagram bait is actually worth the wait. 

Line 1: The Fried-Crust Sandwich
Conohen, 366 Tompkins Ave., nr. Putnam Ave.; Bed-Stuy
The line outside this small, impossible-to-Google Japanese counter was ten people long on a recent cold day. The shop started as a weekend-only pop-up but now serves its onigiri, sashimi, and karaage Thursdays through Mondays. The thing I kept seeing on my feed was egg salad on milk bread, cut into six rectangles with the trimmed crusts fried to a golden brown and served on the side like bread frites. The crusts were crunchy and enjoyable, while the $5 sandwich was not quite a let down. Alas, it was also not particularly special, with a thin filling of plain egg salad that didn’t reach the edges of the bread.
Worth the wait? It’s a good neighborhood spot, especially for onigiri, but not worth the trip for viral crust.

Line 2: The Hot, Buttered Irish Scones
Mary O’s Irish Soda Bread Shop, 93 ½ E. 7th St., nr. First Ave.
Even on a chilly day, the door to this shop is wide open, letting fresh air into the warm bakery while the smell of berries and cream wafts down 7th Street. Cakey, craggy soda-bread scones are the only thing that comes out of the oven, timed to sell soon after baking, which can quickly lead to lines during peak hours. The scones, I’m happy to report, are as delicious as they are photogenic: served split and smeared with inky blackberry jam, that’s also made by Mary O, and a thick slice of salted butter. The crust goes almost dumpling-like in the center, evoking summer cobbler.
Worth the wait? Yes. Eat one there and buy a six-pack to freeze for later.

Line 3: Manhattan Blackout Cake
Claude, 187 W. 4th Street., nr. Barrow St.
Not to be confused with the notable chocolate layer cake served at Claud in the East Village, Claude bakery in the West Village sells thick slices of double-layer, chocolate-sprinkle-coated devil’s-food cake that have become the social-media calling card. When I think “blackout cake,” I expect a juicy, dense slice like the cake in Matilda, but this is not that. The ganache coating is delicious, but there isn’t enough for the thick layer of devil’s-food cake, which was not as chocolaty or moist as I had anticipated.
Worth the wait? A nice treat if you’re in the area but not worth going out of the way.

Line 4: The Wagyu Chopped Cheese
Prospect Park Deli, 155 Prospect Park SW., nr. Vanderbilt St.; Windsor Terrace
The viral sandwich videos from this Prospect Park–facing deli aren’t as outlandish as others, but they’ve found a hit with a Wagyu upgrade (supplied by Snake River Farms according to an empty cardboard box near the grill). The beef patties are thicker than anything I’m used to seeing behind a corner-store counter, and cost $16 rather than $12 for the regular chopped-cheese hero. I thought the beef crisped up nicely in its own fat, but I couldn’t necessarily tell if that was due to the Wagyu or their general skill. Still, neighbors were lined up for them.
Worth the wait? The employees work pretty quickly, so it shouldn’t take that long, but if you’ve got a decent deli near your own apartment, there’s no reason to hunt this one down specifically.

Line 5: The Fossilized Cracker
Senbei, 26B Elizabeth St., nr. Canal St.
Long before Senbei opened in October, my feed was full of senbei-making videos from Japan wherein whole seafood would be smashed with batter between two hot plates until it all cooked into a millimeter-thick wafer with a precise outline of the contained creature. Chinatown’s Senbei offers shrimp, octopus, soft-shell crab, or scallop, the last of which I chose on the recommendation of staff who said it’s the best. They brought out a container from the back and arranged three scallops around a square of plain batter before closing the plates and screwing them shut, releasing rapidly evaporating squeals of scallop-scented steam. The process took longer than I expected, requiring a few pressings to create a single two-foot square cracker which I then attempted to eat without making a mess.
Worth the wait? Maybe if you’re on a diet. It’s a large, unwieldy cracker. And it costs $18.