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| - You'd think I'd have gone to Miracle Mile already, considering how close I've lived to this joint for the past 18 months, but given I work nowhere near it so that I could easily drop by for lunch, and that it never seems open when I drive by it at night, my chances to eat here were slim to none.
I thought Miracle Mile was closed on the weekends, and I was going to try out the Kokopelli taqueria a few doors down instead, but as I was walking towards the latter, I saw that Miracle Mile had its tables and umbrellas out, and so I walked towards it.
Open! Score!
I walked in, and was taken aback by how mf'ing HUGE this place is. I'm serious. It's like airport hangar size. OK, maybe half the size of the Best Buy around the corner, but still.
Now comes the intimidating part - the New York Jewish deli-cafeteria-style ordering bit. It seemed like everyone who was in line knew what they wanted before they even got to the front. No stalling. No indecisiveness. It was all "pastrami on rye with two latkes and a pickle" and move on. Total Soup Nazi style. Any delay and you got both the people behind you and the guy behind the counter giving you the evil eye. Man, it's Sunday! What's everyone's hurry? Day of rest, people!
So I got to the front, and not wanting to waste one second, ordered the roast beef on kaiser roll. "Hot roast beef, right?" said the guy. I wanted cold, but said yes anyway. Did I even want roast beef? Whatever. Sandwich, fries, and pickle came to about $8.25 with tax, which seemed a little high to me - especially since all that was in the sandwich was the meat and one small dinky slice of swiss cheese.
I then took my tray, sat down, and picked up my sandwich.
Or more accurately, I tried to pick it up.
The bottom half of the kaiser roll had completely disintegrated thanks to the juices of the roast beef, and all the contents just fell through my fingers and onto the plate. Okay, so it was now a fork and knife meal. I'd have thought for $8.25 the bread would last at least a couple more minutes. My fries were lukewarm and a little limp & soggy, which was a downer. I mean, if I'm going to partake in ingesting solid cholesterol and then feeling bad about it afterwards, damn at least those fries better be hot and crispy and worth it.
In any case, I sat around and ate my meal while lazily reading the New Times. Regardless of the sandwich malfunction and the sad fries (wah wah), it's still Sunday and I'm still going to read something, like the "Ask A Mexican" column on page 5 or wherever it is.
I'd say the meat of my sandwich was pretty decent (albeit sprawled on my plate and not in my hands), but beyond the kaiser roll being flimsy, it wasn't a great roll taste-wise. I was expecting a lot better, for some reason. But maybe it was because I chose my meal in a slight panic that I didn't order correctly. Who knows. There is a lot offered in terms of both hot and cold sandwiches, plus many other dishes (mac n' cheese, chicken salad, etc.), and of course, latkes. How many places do you know have latkes ready to eat? In Phoenix, anyway? But my experience here was lacking a bit, which is a bum deal, because I really wanted to like it and have it become one of my weekend institutions as well.
Miracle Mile apparently is a very popular daytime destination as it's packed to the gills during weekday lunch hour (which is crazy for me to picture every table in this humongous place being occupied). Whether I'll be back again is a good question, but at least I know in the future that my brain needs to be switched to "on" as soon as I step my foot in. Nothing like Grandma Ethel sighing loudly and impatiently behind you while you debate the merits of rye or sourdough in your head.
3 stars.
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