As an Italian-American (and Hungarian, and Irish, and Native, and others - I got layers, guys) I have had many an Italian Sandwich.

In fact, growing up, my mom would make a big to-do on “special” sandwich nights. We would go to the local market deli counter (I’m looking at you, Eurofresh) - and it was always PACKED. We’d grab our ticket number and wait for what seemed like HOURS (it was probably like 10 minutes) to get the most magical items to a child apart from sugary cereals: salami, mortadella, provolone, and, my favorite, capicola (or what my mother would lovingly call coppa).

Read More