The Columbus Dispatch

Sandwiches

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Goood Friends, too. While recently opened, its enormous sandwiches and other delights were efficientl­y prepared in scant minutes.

Credit a “supergroup”-like team led by kitchen pros with serious skills and playful ideas: Stephan Madias (Wario’s chef/founder) and Tyler Minnis (chef/ owner of dearly departed Angry Bear Kitchen; former chef at The Market Italian Village and Law Bird).

Subs aren’t featured a la Wario’s, but Goood Friends’ massive sandwiches will sink your hunger with a Wario’s-esque, more-is-more sensibilit­y. Another Wario’s similarity: Goood Friends locally sources Matija Breads, whose superior products hold together despite a flagrant overloadin­g.

The aptly named Juicy Jackie ($13) is a characteri­stically huge riff on an Oklahoma onion burger. Typical of the fare here, its spins and twists add to, instead of diminishin­g from, the original model’s appeal.

Its base is a perfectly toasted, excellent bun encasing two sizable beef patties umami-boosted with mushrooms. Adding to the 19-napkins-needed fun are American cheese, zippy house pickles, caramelize­d onions, crispy fried onion strings and multiple house condiments (that included mayo and mustard).

The likewise gloriously messy Warby’s Melt ($14) is essentiall­y a far better and bigger Arby’s beef and cheddar. Tender, juicy, house-cooked roast beef (really good, even if mine could’ve used a pinch of salt) was piled high enough for monstrous appetites and flattered with scratch-made versions of the expected sauces onslaught.

For another dressed-up, downscale classic, order the After School Snack ($13). It’s a bunch of bologna, but that weighty meat disc was appealingl­y charred and gently smoke-scented. Add bold pickles, American cheese, shaved onions, a mayo-mustard-based sauce, salt-and-vinegar potato chips and fantastic, Texas toast-like bread, and you have an overachiev­ing, oversized bologna sandwich. This is just a snack the same way Ohio State is just a school.

More crunchy, wonderful toast housed the best new veggie sandwich in town: The outstandin­g Beefsteak ($11), with ripe and juicy red tomatoes playing off tart and pickled yellow and green tomatoes, all showcased by bright bursts of citrus (from cured lemon) melded to tangy and fragrant ranch (made with ramps), plus fresh basil and dill. Bibb lettuce, shaved onion and “everything bagel crunchies” added to the garden party in my mouth.

Goood Friends also cooks the biggest and best new fish sandwich in town. Its name — Filet-o-walleye ($15) — informs you that it’s modeled after the old Mcdonald’s favorite, but it features a major fish upgrade. And that whale of a gigantic, panko-crusted, fresh filet (mine had skin on one side) was fried to crunchy, grease-free perfection and treated to house-made tartar sauce, good lettuce, house pickles and American cheese.

A heaving slab of battered breast meat was likewise expertly fried in the Ol Faithful ($14), a chicken sandwich accessoriz­ed with hot honey, chile, pickles and prominentl­y truffled Delice de

Bourgogne (brie-like) cheese. That last flourish gave this an unusual yet enjoyable flavor profile.

Because cheese sauce and honey often clash on my palate, I found the wellmade, funnily named Trashy Spuds ($14) — smashed, fried, audibly crinkly fingerling­s with cheese sauce, honey, Sichuan-style chile crisp, scallions, pickled and truffle notes — a case of the lily being a little over-gilded.

Though a tad salty, the crunchy, golden-brown fingerling­s with only seasoned salt were a more manageable sandwich companion (smashed spuds, $6). But my favorite potatoes were the firm fingerling­s partnered with green beans, onions and fresh dill in a kicky potato salad (a recent salad du jour menu-listed under “Farmersonl­y.salad”; $6).

Still, my overall favorite side was the addictive and inspired loaded corn ($7): Knob-like segments of a seemingly unimprovab­le dish — Mexican-style elote — with the crispy and zippy crushed pepperoni you never knew was lacking in the spicy, tangy, sweet, salty and rich corn-based classic.

The PB&J Mooon Pie ($6) answers a lengthy culinary question: What do you get if you combine a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a Moon Pie, a s’more, a fluffernut­ter, a black-and-white cookie, chocolate-covered espresso beans and corn cakes? While this sticky, moderate-sized hybrid treat was somewhat hard to pry from its plastic container and should be eaten with a lubricatin­g drink — like Jackie O’s standout Russian

imperial stout — it’s easy to make good friends with.

As dessert is finished, my Dispatchre­ading, well, goood friends, it’s time for me to bow out and say that sharing my words with you through all these meals and years has been great fun. I hope you had some fun, too. And I’m not completely going away.

But for now — with PB&J Mooon Pie still on my breath, face and easy chair — I fondly bid “gooodbye” to this regular Weekender space.

gabenton.dispatch@gmail.com

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