Like any artist who visits and revisits certain themes and motifs over the course of their career, I return again to the world of sandwiches and sandwich makers. In an earlier piece on bread, meat, and cheese designer Mike Santoro [1], I included sandwich artist Mike Stevens of Island Savoy Market [2] in my introduction. Now, we make Mike the main item on the plate—and deservedly so.
Mike is a mid-island legend who, battling the two-sided bias of so many in this town—Park vs Webster, AHS vs EHS, Calafia vs La Penca—created his grocery store and sandwich shop at 1200 Lincoln Avenue. In planting his toothpick flag [3], Mike was essentially saying to all, hey, if you deign to drive past us on your way east or west, you do so at your own peril, the peril of missing out on what may be the cutest market in Alameda and for sure among the best sandwiches anywhere in the East Bay. Enough of my hyperbole, though. Let’s get to Mike’s replies to the probing queries of how he does what he does so well, 5Q4 Mike Stevens.
[4]Let’s start with a memory: Favorite sandwich a parent made for you, or one from your childhood that makes you get all misty eyed?
There’s a sandwich on our menu called the “Grammy”—peanut butter, jelly, and cream cheese. It’s named in honor of my mother, but I recently learned it was my father’s creation. It was a lunchbox staple, even after I stopped carrying a Fonzie lunchbox. The other kids used marshmallow fluff (ask a New Englander) but our twist was TempTee whipped cream cheese (again, ask a New Englander). It’s not a top seller, but it’ll never leave our menu.
You invented the sandwiches that are served at Savoy Market. Do you have a favorite, or like children, do you love them all equally?
I had great help in creating the menu at Island Savoy. Everyone who has a sandwich named in their honor had input on the main ingredient(s). Several of our sandwiches were developed with Robert Davidson, who was working as our chef when we opened.
I often joke that the whole reason we opened a deli was to be able to get a muffuletta in Alameda. It’s first on the menu for a reason. I still think there’s room for improvement on our muffuletta, I’m still searching for the perfect bread.
[5]Talk about bread. Is it an accessory or an equal partner in the overall eating experience? What about condiments? Are you a mustard snob—spicy brown only, Grey Poupon—or will French’s yellow suffice? (We won’t even ask about mayo vs Miracle Whip.)
What goes outside the sandwich is as important as what goes inside. Back in Providence, Rhode Island, they make an Italian roll that has a crusty outside and a soft middle. There’s no better bread for an Italian combo (an “Uncle Vinny” here at Island Savoy Market) and I still haven’t found exactly the right one outside of Southern New England. Brian Wood, the owner of Starter Bakery in Berkeley, is also from Rhode Island, so his Italian torpedo roll is the closest I’ve found.
Also, it’s taken me three years, but I think I’ve finally found a gluten-free bread that belongs around an Island Savoy sandwich. Thanks to David Cohen and the team at Original Sunshine [6], we expect to have it in stock soon.
As for condiments, I met Zane Caplansky [7] at the Good Food Mercantile Show in Fort Mason in 2024. He’s the Mozart of mustard. He ships from Toronto and even if tariffs from Canada go up to 100%, we’ll still be getting his ballpark yellow and horseradish varieties. Someday, I’ll figure out the right sandwich to go with his spicy mustard.
[8]Let’s get deeper into the nuances of sandwich-making. You have helpers—how long does it take to train them? Do you allow diagonal cuts, or perpendicular only? Do you indulge those dilettantes who want their crust removed?
Now you’re getting into Sandwich Philosophy, which is way beyond step-by-step instructions. It’s about where the cheese goes on a hot sandwich as opposed to a cold one. It’s how you slice the lettuce to allow the dressing to permeate through to the fixings below. Thinly slicing a red onion so that the flavor is subtle, not overpowering. You know how they say you “practice” law or medicine even if you’ve been doing so for decades? Sandwiches are like that too. You can spend a lifetime practicing the art yet always come up with something new.
There’s only one absolute: Diagonally is the ONLY way to slice a sandwich.
Bonus question: Sound off on anything sandwich-related.
There is no Unified Theory of Sandwich Making. I won’t cast anyone out for putting pickles on pastrami or cheddar with prosciutto. Look, I still crush salt and vinegar chips on my tuna melt. I think the underlying philosophy is simply that anything we eat deserves some thought about why we’re adding this or that, where we are sourcing it, and what’s in it. We quite literally are what we eat, and when we have a product like New School American Cheese [9], why on earth would we eat something called a “processed cheese product?”
Gene Kahane is the founder of the Foodbank Players [10], a lifelong teacher, and former Poet Laureate for the City of Alameda. Reach him at [email protected] [11]. His writing is collected at AlamedaPost.com/Gene-Kahane [12].