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Like many mostly decent and somewhat hungry citizens, during the pandemic I ordered a few meals off of an online delivery service, most notably from Postmates. And while they offer eats from many local favorites such as The Mule, Grand House, and Ingrid’s Kitchen, I came to notice there’s a plateful of restaurants on there that I’ve never even heard of.
With erotically-charged names like The Hot Italian, Firebelly Wings and Mothership Pizza, curiosity got the best of me and I looked up their listed addresses for, perhaps, a future review; my pseudo-investigation found that many of these sandwiches, wings and salads were coming from the same restaurants under different names, most notably either Pizza House or Henry Hudson’s.
I was going to initially write them off, but one eatery that caught my eye was a joint called The Grilled Cheese Society. Located at the home of a Henry Hudson’s on Google Maps—it mostly intrigued me because, I’m ashamed to say, a grilled cheese sandwich is the one thing that I can’t make and here was a secret club that holds them in high esteem.
While I’m sure this may garner a few insults, I think that making a grilled cheese is something that might be a bit of problem for many of us—I mean, I just recently learned that you’re supposed to butter the bread on both sides. So, really, a restaurant such as The Grilled Cheese Society is an ingenious idea. But how is it in practice?
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I ordered a couple of signature sandwiches—as well as some good lookin’ fries—from Postmates and, in about an hour, they were delivered in a clear sealed bag, a novel enough approach to safe food handling, especially in this day and age.
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I started off with the Classic Roosevelt ($7.00), which is your basic grilled cheese sandwich. It’s literally just a few slices of half-melted American on two toasted pieces of white bread, nothing more, nothing less. While it was a merely okay meal for me, I know my 8-year-old nephew would’ve liked it, at least until he got bored, left half of it on his plate and went back to playing video games.
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There’s something strange in my neighborhood, and they’re these Ghost Fries ($5.00). They’re supposed to be French fries with ghost pepper spices—the hottest seasoning around, see—but mine must have been lost and forgotten, because these were just damp bar fries; to be fair, the condensed steam always makes fries from Postmates a scary proposition.
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But, perhaps the most redeeming dish to be offered at the Grilled Cheese Society is the Del Rio Caliente ($10.00), a big sandwich I kept calling the Los Del Rio all night, in tribute to the Macarena. On two pressed pieces of wheat bread, inside is a fuego mixture of chorizo, queso blanco, pepper jack cheese, roasted jalapenos, bell peppers, and poblanos, along with some “Society” sauce.
Like a dated Looney Tunes character, my scorching mouth shot flamboyant flames across the living room, the well-placed heat making this sandwich something to internally extinguish as I downed a few bottles of cold water. It was a unique Latin sensation that made this delivery very worthwhile; does Hudson’s regularly carry this?
Along with other grilled cheese sammies like the hamburger-esque Patty Andrews, the eggs and bacon besmirched Bambino and the avocado-heavy Shirley Temple, as well as wings, soups and hot potato salad, the Grilled Cheese Society is worth an order or two.
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Follow Louis on Twitter at @LouisFowler and Instagram at @louisfowler78.