TASTE: Do You Believe In ‘Wichcraft?

MGM Grand’s new sandwich shop has both hits and kinks

Max Jacobson

Two years ago, I was strolling through London's Mayfair District, looking for a place to have coffee and a croissant because I didn't feel like paying a ridiculous breakfast surcharge at the overpriced dump I was staying in, the Park Lane.


By sheer accident, I stumbled into Pret A Manger, French for "ready to eat," a breakfast and lunch chain where I had one of the best breakfasts ever, a perfect cappuccino, a flaky, buttery croissant, and a cup of the creamiest yogurt I've ever tasted, topped with fruit.


It was only a matter of time before this chain, which specializes in creative sandwiches and salads for the lunch period, surfaced in the United States, and it did, in New York City, where presumably, it has spawned some imitators.


'Wichcraft probably isn't one, but it is somewhat similar in spirit. For all I know, Chef Tom Colicchio (Craft, Craftsteak) had been brewing the idea for a creative sandwich joint for a long time before he got around to the realization. He opened the first 'Wichcraft in Manhattan, and in mid-July of this year, branched out to the MGM Grand, home to his wonderful restaurant, Craftsteak. The specialty is breakfast pastries and creative sandwiches, and the concept, like it or not, is a first for Vegas.


Food here can be a joy, and though the chef likes to call the concept "Craft between two pieces of bread," I'm calling it a work in progress. Some of what I've eaten here has made me shiver with delight. Other dishes have turned me off like a light, such as potato salad with mustard vinaigrette, which had about a quarter-inch of oil at the bottom of its plastic serving dish.


Nonetheless, things have steadily improved since the opening, and there are a number of things I look forward to eating here. You'll order from a counter person, and then select a green plastic chair to sit on, probably facing the Studio Walk section of the hotel, which affords great people watching.


Getting the food can take a while, if you are unlucky enough to get behind one or two custom orders. Colicchio conceived most of his sandwiches so that there would not be any changes to his concepts, but special requests, such as the addition of one ingredient or the subtraction of another, can bog down the proceedings.


That shouln't be a problem at breakfast, when wonderful streusel-topped muffins and the city's best, chewiest sticky buns rule. Biscuits—scones, really—are as rich as the law allows, and the coffee is good too—hot, intense and fresh.


There are breakfast sandwiches, such as a fried egg and bacon sandwich with frisée on ciabatta bread, overwhelmed by a hit of gorgonzola. The sandwich works if a reasonable amount of the strongly flavored cheese is employed. Whoever made mine didn't use restraint, and I had to scrape it away.


At lunch, sandwiches can be erratic, as well. The cold sandwiches sit in a case above the good sodas, from a company called Boylan. The sodas aren't too sweet and the root beer and ginger ale are both first-rate. But my Sicilian tuna, fennel and black olive sandwich on a baguette was far too oily, but the roasted turkey with avocado, bacon and onion relish on ciabatta is world class, and for a vegetarian, it would be hard to top the goat cheese, avocado, celery and watercress on excellent multi-grain bread.


Hot sandwiches are hit and miss, too. Roasted pork loin, coppa, pickled pepper relish and fontina on grilled country bread sounded irresistible, but an overdose of the cheese made the bread lose its crunch. When these sandwiches, really like grilled panini, are crunchy, they are sensational. Chicken breast, roasted red pepper mozzarella and pesto on grilled country bread is virtually perfect.


Colicchio also shows his New Jersey-Italian roots with what he calls a meatloaf sandwich—to me, the best meatball sandwich I've ever tasted, tricked up with bacon, cheddar and a tomato sauce disguised by the menu description as a "tomato relish." Who cares? It's amazingly good.


So is a side dish of marinated chick peas with onions, olive oil and spices, and so are any of Pastry Chef Melinda Eusantos' desserts. I have already written of my love for the Whoopie Pie, a chocolate cake and cream sandwich, in a 10 Best Desserts story that ran last month


But the tiny sandwich cookie desserts, especially one with an unctuous peanut cream; and the 'smorewich, a graham flour, chocolate and marshmallow creation that tastes like a kid's campfire; are all great, as is anything else that happens to show up in the dessert case.


Concept is fine, but execution is probably more important. Everyone knows Colicchio is a brilliant chef, but in the end, who is making your sandwich is probably more relevant.

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