Most obvious upon entering Terra Cole Butchery & Fine Foods is the "butchery" side of the name. There's a case that glistens with gorgeous rib-eye steaks, smoked turkey wings, veal bratwursts, and other housemade sausages. The friendly folks at the counter might ask if you're looking for something for dinner, and they're happy to give preparation suggestions.
But the scattering of tables should clue you in to the "fine foods" that you can enjoy right on-site at Terra Cole. Go to the side counter, and you can order sandwiches made with some of the meats on display, as well as sides (think pickled vegetables, olives, and salads) that are sold by the pound. There are a half-dozen sandwiches on the regular menu, from a traditional pastrami on rye to one of the best pulled pork BBQ sandwiches I've had in the Seattle area.
Weaning myself off the pulled pork, I recently enjoyed the Dudewich ($7.50), Chef Trace Wilson's take on, yes, the Manwich. This, though, is far from canned fare. If the Manwich was a joy of my childhood days, the Dudewich might easily be my adult guilty pleasure. It's made with grain-fed beef and sloppy joe mix that contains Stanislaus' Exclusivo wild porcini sauce. The porcinis combine with tomatoes to create a slightly sweet, slightly spicy, and boldly tangy, earthy sauce that's full of flavor.
"A good glop"—Wilson's unit of measurement—of sauced meat go on a lightly toasted brioche bun, which provides great support without shooting out the contents when you take a bite. Still, you might want to eat the sandwich in its wrapper, à la a burrito, to avoid making a mess. There's also a generous smear of blue cheese fondue, made with blue cheese, cream cheese, and cream, that's added for some bonus messy richness. In my childhood, I'd have eaten potato chips with this (still not a bad idea for crispy texture to offset the soft sandwich), but the adult me enjoyed the punchy contrast of pickled greens, instead. You can round out your meal with one of the unique sodas from the cooler in the front corner of the store.
I actually liked this sandwich better than the truly lovable wild boar sloppy joe (more exotic, for sure, but its gaminess somewhat duller in flavor) that I recently ate at Longman & Eagle in Chicago, whose chef previously worked at Quinn's in Seattle—alongside none other than Trace Wilson.
About the author: Jay Friedman is a Seattle-based freelance food writer who happens to travel extensively as a sex educator. An avid fan of noodles (some call him "The Mein Man"), he sees sensuality in all foods, and blogs about it at his Gastrolust website. You can follow him on Twitter @jayfriedman.