Monday, August 24, 2009

Surf and F'ing Turf. Yeahhhhh!

At the risk of sounding like Peter King here, I must give you a Czabe version “Enjoyable/Aggravating Travel Tip of the Week.”

11:20 a.m. - Newburyport, NH

We've just jetted down I-95 from Bangor International Airport in our rented mini-van. Me, my wife, my two daughters, and my two nephews. My sister-in-law and her husband got a week at home alone, while the lil' monsters stayed a week longer in Maine to attend camp.

(Note to self: invoice for the kid wrangling once we are home.)

Prior to leaving their retirement cottage in Bar Harbor, I engaged in a spirited father/son-in-law argument over how long it would take to get to Boston for our absurdly cheap JetBlue flight back to Dulles ($89 each way).

I said: “Without traffic, 4 hours or less, no problem.”

Pops, rolling his eyes in disgust, jabbed back... “Look. It's 5 hours, maybe more! Saturday is a 'change day' up here, and there's going to be lots of traffic.”

With my pops-in-law, there is ALWAYS going to be traffic. And with him, the amount of traffic only comes in one size: “alot.”

There is never a “chance” of traffic, or “some” or even “light” traffic. Nope. It's gonna be a lot. Always.

“Dad, it's 244 miles, almost all highway, I checked it on my iPhone” I insisted. “Of course we're not going to sleep in, but I think we are fine.”

My dad threw his hands up and turned away. Serves me right for arguing with a local.

Anyway, back to our trip. We've just clicked through mile 204 and it's time for lunch. Time check: 2 hours and 41 minutes. In my head, I channel my best Degeneration X signature crotch chop with a “SUCK IT!” for my dad.

I do it in my head because I do love him. But I love being right even more.

If I wanted, we could plow through to Logan International and punch a ticket for 3:45 door to door. I could then call him, hand the phone to a stranger with a thick BAH-stahn accent and say: “Here, tell this guy what time it is here.”

Nah. Time to clear the bench and let the scrubs play. No need to run up the score.

PS: Change day traffic was as non-existent as A-Rod in October.

We find a strip mall and decide to try a little franchise place called “D'Angelo's Grilled Sandwiches.” Looks like a stepped up Subway. I'm pumped.

On the menu is a nice array of just what the name implied. Cheesesteaks, meatball subs, cold sandwiches, the works. Nice.

But oh.... hellooooo... what do .. we... have... heeeere?

“Surf and Turf Special: $12.95”

Can you say “5-inch lobster sandwich with 5 inch cheesesteak?”

What a score!

If you've been to the northeast, you've probably had a lobster roll or “sandwich.” It's all the good part of the lobster (i.e. meat) soaked in mayo and stuffed in a special half-roll, half bread cradle. They also throw lettuce in there, but I waive that player like Cuttino Mobley in a 3-team deal before he even takes a physical with my team.

In short, it kicks ass.

But most lobster roll sandwiches around touristy Bar Harbor, run 12-15 bucks alone. This one was every bit as good, but had an awesome cheeseteak thrown in as part of the deal.


I know that 14 bucks is a lot to pay for a “sandwich lunch” but if we had a D'Angelos in my area (and I don't think we do) I might wear that special out. I could easily see myself snagging that double-double 3 or 4 times a week.


Apparently, D'Angelos's is also the “Official” sandwich shop of the Boston Red Sox. And as such, they have a cool logo that reads “Lobster Nation” but with the red socks replaced with lobster claws. If they had a t-shirt with that, I would have bought two on the spot.

Okay, that's all I got. Now, back to random football thoughts like Peter King.

“You know, I think Tom Cable is walking a fine but jagged line of sanity in Oakland, judging by his first month of camp.....”

Man, I should really get a gig like King's. This is fun!


  1. Best posting ever Czabe. Stepped up Subway, I'm pumped. You should have to order that Lobster Roll/ Cheesesteak combo with a mask on. I could definitely eat that meal for lunch everyday, it would get me out of bed easier for work then my alarm clock.

    Czabe in your humble opinion who is worse Chris Mortensen or Peter King? That bus idea for Mort was another great segment for ESPN. You would think a guy with the head the size of Peter King he might have a brain in it, the man is all skull.

  2. Number 9 pocket is the greatest sandwich ever. How good is it? Years ago, when they changed the menu away from "everything had a number", the number stayed. EVERYONE remembers the number 9.

    I miss D'Angelos!