In this great country of ours, one could eat a different sandwich every day of the year—so that's what we'll do. Here's A Sandwich a Day, our daily look at sandwiches around the country. Got a sandwich we should check out? Let us know. —The Mgmt.
D.C. isn't a city known for its sandwiches, really. Some believe Potbelly is the definition of an excellent sandwich (see Yelp for confirmation). It's possible this is the case because a stellar exception to the rule, Jetties, is too far from a Metro station for most Washingtonians. Their sandwiches are so good, I had to review two.
Their most popular sandwich, the Nobadeer ($8.95), is a favorite for a reason: it's dang good. A giant, classic Thanksgiving leftovers sandwich, layers hand-carved turkey topped with stuffing, jellied cranberry sauce, and mayo, and features my favorite bread of all time, sourdough. (Be sure to ask for it toasted.)
Surprisingly, the crouton-shaped stuffing isn't heavy and doesn't overwhelm the bread, and the tangy mayo balances out the sweet-tart cranberry sauce. The turkey tastes like it's been roasted for hours, and it's sliced thick enough and piled high enough to serve as the leader of this delicious band. Close your eyes and you'll think it's November. Just try getting everything in one bite.
I'm generally not a huge lobster fan, but I couldn't get enough of the Dionis ($15.95), their lobster roll (and yet another thing named after a Nantucket beach here!). Don't expect huge chunks of lobster meat—Jetties seems to chop it up pretty fine, and the salad seems pretty mayo-heavy.
Despite these seeming dealbreakers, the lobster roll isn't bad for one outside of New England. The lobster is reminiscent of sweet corn; the lemon juice lightens up the filling even more. While Jetties doesn't use a griddled split-top roll, the soft baguette is actually well-suited for the monster pile of lobster salad. The sprinkling of shredded romaine seems pretty superfluous but it's a fine-enough looking garnish for what it's worth.
Snag a wooden table under an umbrella on their front lawn, unfold your butcher paper-wrapped beauty of a sandwich (whichever you ordered), and pop open a bag of Cape Cod potato chips. You'll swear you're lunching in a New England coast town.