Or how I learned to shrug at a sandwich.
I have a strong suspicion that the vast bulk of the people who will read this blog post will have absolutely no access to an Arby's.
In fact, in a real sense I'm not even sure how much American fast food culture is a big deal outside of America. Sure, it exists in modern literature which talks about the experience of being an American but I've never really done a true survey of how people see American fast food culture.
Oh, McDonald's is a global brand. There are tribes lost in the deepest part of Africa who would recognize the McDonald's clown on sight. You can find a poorly constructed hamburger with the double arches on them almost everywhere on earth.
But what about the lesser brands? What about the smaller niches? I just don't know.
So if this seems like alien material to you, if it's coming from a place completely foreign to your experience – let me know. I'm curious.
I suppose you could think of it as documenting the street food of American suburbia.
Arby's
It's definitely not worth recapping the Arby's entry at Wikipedia, but if you've never read it before – this is a good time to do so.
I'm going to briefly talk about Arby's from the perspective of a suburbanite in the American South East.
The important thing to know is that Arby's is weird.
It never really fit into the basic architecture of the fast food landscape. On the one hand you have the hamburger, a very predictable and consistent product with a slab of ground beef, some condiments, some toppings, a nice white bun, and away you go. You will definitely want fries with that. And on the other hand you have fried chicken, typified by another global brand, Kentucky Fried Chicken. You know that you are going to get generally whole pieces of chicken, breaded and deep-fried to a delicious crispy exterior, served with potato wedges or, more likely, mashed potatoes and gravy along with some biscuits.
Those are the two poles of fast food in the American South East.
And then there's Arby's.
Arby's has a different vibe. Rather than selling hamburgers or fried chicken, they've staked their world out amongst the thinly sliced roast beef market. There's really no competition in the area in the fast food market for what Arby's does, which often feels a little bit strange.
One of the things that they have made a pillar of their experience is "the seasonal sandwich." While other fast food places trade product in and out on a regular seasonal basis, Arby's takes the opportunity to really go far afield and try some strange things.
As an example, last year Arby's decided to do a limited run of venison (deer) sandwiches in some states that were big into deer hunting, Georgia among them. For people in the area, that was a bit of a big deal. Even though it was only one store in the entire state which was going to participate, there was a lot of talk.
Unsurprisingly, they sold out of venison sandwiches on day one. At all locations. I didn't manage to get my hands on one but by all reports it was delicious, delicately smoked like most of Arby's meats and flavorful.
This year, they decided to run a limited sandwich in three states made of elk. Unfortunately for me, those were run in states far from where I am.
The backbone of the Arby's lineup is their medium roast beef sandwich, reasonably piled with thinly sliced roast beef, a little mayonnaise, usually some cheese, and bits of deep-fried onion peel on top. I'm not fond of anything quite that elaborate so the cheese and onion tanglers have to go for mine, but I don't think I've ever had one that didn't taste fresh and delicious. Add a little of the spicy Arby's Sauce that is never in short supply and you're set.
But we're here to talk about one of their latest seasonal sandwiches.
The Smokehouse Pork Belly Sandwich
That's what the ad copy looks like, anyway. Heaped with delicious thick cut pork belly with alternating strips of good smoked pork and that nicely reduced pork fat, a layer of mayonnaise to keep the bottom bun from getting moist, melting smoked cheddar cheese on top, and crispy onions with a bit of amazingly good barbecue sauce on top of that. Oh yes, we can't forget the toasty bun.
In practice – well, things aren't quite as impressive as all that, as you can tell from the photo that opens this article. That is the actual sandwich that I received and even after you take into account the fact that I can't have cheese and I really don't like fried bits of onion on top of my sandwich (as I clearly prefer them on the side – Arby's onion rings are one of the greatest things you can put in your mouth at any time), there is some obvious difference from the advertising.
But that's not really important. What is important is "how does it taste?"
The answer is… It's okay.
What's it like, really?
I admit to being a bit of a meat snob. I live the life of an obligate carnivore, making up for at least 16 vegetarians and an entire gaggle of vegans with every meal. I love meat, I refuse to give up meat, and if cows were outlawed tomorrow, I would find the people responsible and force them to volunteer to replace the bovines so unemployed.
"I love meat" is what I'm saying.
When it comes to the Arby's pork belly sandwich – there is a little bit of disappointment. The quality of pork belly that you get is middle-of-the-road at best. In contrast to the advertising images, it doesn't have the clear striation between pork fat and dense muscle tissue that you would want in the highest quality pork belly. It still has the richness of pork belly, and that's why you come to the show, but the texture is a little weak.
In contrast, there is the smokehouse barbecue that Arby's uses on their smokehouse line of sandwiches – and as an American Southerner connoisseur of barbecue sauces, one who has so many in the cabinets and the refrigerator that my roommates have banned me from buying any more until most of the current crop is consumed, one who literally has trouble walking by a grocery store display of barbecue sauces without reaching out to pluck an unusual sample to take home with me, I have to tell you that the stuff on the sandwich is grade-A prime. Smoky, unctuous, just enough sweetness to set off the smoke to bite of the meat – this is the kind of barbecue sauce you want on a sandwich. Or your ribs. Or any random piece of meat that you have lying around.
It's good.
If you are prone to liking breaded fried onion on your sandwiches, you know what I'm about to tell you. If you order the sandwich with the onion tanglers, eat it right there. Eat it fresh and hot. It doesn't take long for the breading to begin taking up the moisture of the barbecue sauce and of the meat itself, at which point they begin losing the sharp texture of the breading and getting predictably soggy.
There are some foods which are ideal for eating, snacking as you go down the road, having left the shop. French fries, a classic "I just left and I'm snacking in the car" food. Popcorn chicken (at least to the original KFC recipe; the more recent is much less satisfying).
This sandwich is not one of those foods. While the classic Arby's roast beef sandwich actually holds up pretty well on the drive home, the pork belly sandwich will quickly moisten anything with breading that rides atop it. The barbecue sauce has a little bit of fat in it which acts as a tolerable moisture barrier, not nearly as good as the mayonnaise on the bottom, but the onion tanglers between the barbecue sauce and the meat?
Either eat the sandwich fresh in the restaurant or order it without the onion tangles. (Or you could have the staff package sandwich with the top bun separately, but when you start making that kind of request people look at you funny.)
The end analysis is that this sandwich is not as good as the smokehouse brisket, which has a much more consistent quality of meat in the sandwich.
If you find yourself in an Arby's, and staring at the menu trying to decide what to have, unless you have an irresistible craving for pork belly in specific, give this a pass and go for either the classic Arby's roast beef or, for an enjoyable smoked taste of the South experience, go for the smokehouse brisket sandwich.
Overall Score: On the -5 to +5 FUDGE Scale, the Arby's Smokehouse Pork Belly Sandwich rates a +1 (Good).