Am I the only one that remembers open-faced sandwiches? Thin slices of inevitably well-done roast beef or pork were laid on top of Wonder-type bread, the whole thing, usually with nearby mashed potatoes, was topped with brown gravy. It was comfort food from the Fifties and early Sixties, found at what we’d now call family restaurants. As a kid, it seemed very adult compared to my invariable hamburger and french fries.
With apologies to my dearly loved eldest Pollack child, it was wet bread, which she loathes and I love, and I’ve found a new variation on the theme that far exceeds whatever I had when I was a beginning Eater.
A torta ahogado is a soaked sandwich. They’re not common at Mexican restaurants hereabouts, but I was blown away by the one at Taqueria Durango in Overland. A very large hamburger bun is dipped in a red sauce, not wildly spicy but definitely some heat, and seemingly little if any tomato. Onion and cumin, for sure. Inside the bun goes what the menu calls pork rib tips, but there were no bits of gristle or knuckle-sized bones found. It was truly succulent pork, moist and falling into shreds, that had been reheated and browned nicely in a few spots, along with strips of white onion and a few pepper strips. More of the sauce had been poured over the top, and the meat’s juices finished moistening the bottom half of the bun.
$7 worth of glorious. You probably won’t need more heat, but the squeeze bottles on each table hold house-made salsas.
I was glad to see the tip of the hat from Ian Froeb at the Post-Dispatch. This is a worthy dish.
10238 Page Ave., Overland
Lunch and dinner daily
Credit cards: Yes