San Francisco's Golden Gate Market Deli & Liquor
And how fun sandwich names keep bringing us back
I can’t get the name out of my head.
The “San Franpsycho” sandwich from Golden Gate Market Deli (GGMD). San FranPSYCHO. Psycho. Why?
I didn’t order it. But I did notice that the severity of the name, and the suggestion that there was something inherently violent and mentally ill involved, made me queasy about ordering it. For other people, though, I can see where it would make them more inclined to order it. Thrill seekers, adrenaline junkies, the Zodiac Killer.
It’s funny what naming a sandwich can do to our perception of it and how it can affect the likelihood that we’ll order it. I’d like to say that marketing gimmicks don’t work on me. But that would be a lie. They do. And that’s probably because there’s human psychology behind them.
When a food item (or really any inanimate object) has a special name, it helps us build a relationship with it – however small. It becomes a character in our lives. Some people name their cars, their guitars, and even their vibrators (see: “verrrronica”).
Ordering a “Reuben” is definitely more fun and intriguing (not to mention efficient and memorable) than ordering a “corned beef, Swiss, sauerkraut, and thousand Island on toasted rye.”
Our brains also “encode” named objects differently than unnamed objects, and that affects what we notice about them and how well we get to know them. In other words, the way we put information into our memory system is different if it’s about an object that has a name. Research shows that when children learn to speak, they’re more likely to notice the unique features of a stuffed teddy bear if it has a name, say “Beary Potter,” than if it’s just another “stuffie.”
When it comes to delicatessens, that means that we’ll notice more about the sandwich we order and we’ll remember the experience better. We’ll remember the taste better. So it stands to reason that delicatessens that give their sandwiches fun and intriguing names are more likely to develop a loyal following. I have zero data to support that, but the psychological factors do point in that direction.
The long lunch line at Golden Gate Market Deli does tend to suggest it’s true (I noticed a couple of people behind me ordered the San Francpsycho). The big selection of funly (my word) named sandwiches kind of blows the mind. There are more than 50 sandwich creations to choose from at this bowling alley of a joint.
“If you haven't had a sandwich here, you've never had a sandwich.”
That’s what a June 2022 Google reviewer posted about the GGMD. Pretty bold, yes, but I can appreciate it because these sandwiches are mighty fine indeed. As the name tickles your brain, the flavors massage your buds. Each one is a well-imagined, well-built, well-balanced culinary tour de force. Here are just a few of the many creations:
The Freak: Pastrami, brisket, chipotle gouda cheese, honey mustard, sriracha mayo and jalapenos.
Italian Wedding: Pesto and marinara sauces over rotisserie chicken with melted provolone.
Hangover: Pepper turkey, spicy coppola, Asiago cheese and remoulade sauce.
Escape From Alcatraz: Buffalo chicken, 3 pepper Colby jack cheese, bacon, BBQ sauce, cajun remoulade and avocado.
Sexy Time: Habanero ham, chipotle Gouda, honey mustard and Parmesan cheese.
French Kiss: Roast beef, marbleu cheese, jalapenos, al sauce, topped with French's crispy fried onions (who’s French?)
Leggo My Eggplant: Eggplant, roasted red peppers and provolone.
Rated R: Blazing Buffalo chicken, habanero Jack cheese and remoulade sauce.
Dirty South: Pastrami brisket, chipotle Gouda, coleslaw and BBQ sauce.
San Franpsycho: Honey maple turkey, Gouda, bacon, pesto, garlic spread, and remoulade sauce.
As you can see, the sandwich namers at GGMD see no need to pick one naming convention and stick with it. They dabble in movies, cultural traditions, colloquialisms, physical maladies, and, as I mentioned before, mental illness.
You may have noticed “remoulade sauce” in several of the aforementioned sandwiches. In case you’re unfamiliar, it’s basically a French sauce with a Louisiana twist. It’s made with mayo, mustard, sweet paprika, cajun/creole seasoning, horseradish, pickle juice, Louisiana hot sauce, and garlic. A tasty condiment that adds a kick of spicy tanginess to balance out and complement the fattiness of the meats.
I ordered the “Dirty South” with pastrami brisket, chipotle gouda, pickles, coleslaw and BBQ sauce. And I chose that item despite its name not because of it. Dirty South made me think of my two years in Atlanta with its confederate flags, informal racial segregation, kudzu, fried okra and grits. They call it the “city too busy to hate.” Not my favorite place.
But the sandwich was astonishingly good. Really can’t do it justice with these word things. I could taste every single ingredient and it all worked incredibly well together. Definitely a “wow” (in fact I think I said “wow” out loud to myself).
I ate half while parked and had every intention of eating the other half at home. Didn’t make it. About five minutes into the drive I looked over at the uneaten half. Then I looked again. By the time I got to the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge, I was taking my last bite and licking my chops. Then sadness washed over me and I instantly wished I’d ordered another.
My buddy Carlos, who told me he’d heard good things about GGMD, also tried it for the first time - opting for The Italian Combo on a sweet roll. After three bites he checked to see how much he had remaining... and instantly regretted not getting two. “Spicy but not overwhelming, the right amount of salt and acid, solid condimental balance and properly toasted bread,” he wrote over text.
GGMD is a tiny place with two narrow aisles separated by a wall of wine and packaged foods. People were jammed in there in such a way that everyone’s favorite virus would be enthusiastic about. I just imagined a cloud of COVID-y aerosol particles emanating from the guy shouting Italian into his mobile speakerphone next to me and flowing directly into my nostrils. Molto grande.
Some online reviewers complained about high prices and I honestly do NOT see what they’re talking about. These were very reasonably priced food bricks between $10 and $14. I’d even call that cheap - especially compared to places like Saul’s in Berkeley ($23) and Mark 'N Mike's at the Ferry Building in SF ($26). In short, I would call Golden Gate Market Deli an ABSOLUTELY MUST TRY.
Boring name, bangin’ sandwiches.
Thanks to Carlos for the recommendation.
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On the side:
The Best Delicatessen? iHeart radio has been putting out “The Best Deli In” articles for every major town in America and I call bullshit. I’ve been systematically visiting Bay Area delis for the past three years now and I’m maybe 8% of the way through the delicatessens here. They claim the best deli in California is Langer’s on Alvarado Street in LA.
Speaking of “Best” lists…there’s a guy named Damian Costello who started an SF Bay Area sandwich enthusiast Instagram account called Sandwich Saint (not a great name, IMHO). He’s been to about 55 places - which I believe is slightly more than I have. It seems we agree on the best sandwich place in the Bay: Deli Board. Though he has it tied with Modigliani Cafe on Grand Ave in Oakland. So many delis, so little room in my stomach.
Can delicatessens be funny? New York’s most famous Jewish deli continues to make the news. Katz is hosting a not-so-secret secret comedy show through the Underground Overground Comedy troupe. Each ticket includes a nice, fat, juicy pastrami sandwich. Speaking of humor, I enjoyed all the Liz Truss jokes comparing her, unfavorably, to the shelf-life of a head of lettuce. Fun fact: Truss’s car crash-like tenure as the British PM lasted exactly 3.8181 Scaramuccis.