As far as classic sandwiches go, the club sandwich has got to be up there with the best known. Although many have laid claim to the original club sandwich, all we really know is that it originated in the United States sometime in the 19th century. And that it gave its name to the weekly club night at my university’s student union.
The club sandwich is traditionally made with three slices of toasted bread that houses sliced poultry (commonly chicken or turkey), bacon, lettuce, tomato and mayonnaise. A wooden skewer is usually pierced though the entire sandwich to hold it together. Pimiento-stuffed olive optional.
Generally speaking, there are two types of chicken shop in London: the type found on every high street; the generic cheapo fried-chicken in a box that is responsible for the scourge of chicken bones littered across the London streets, and the new ones; the restaurants that have taken the gourmet fast food trend towards poultry and created something for the more discerning diner. Soho’s Clockjack Oven certainly falls into the latter category, and when I heard there was a place specialising in proper rotisserie chicken in London, I could barely contain my excitement. And they had a chicken club on their menu.
Before I talk about the sandwich specifically, I have to say that I love the chicken at Clockjack Oven. The chicken is always cooked perfectly and has the kind of crispy skin that I go nuts for. To reluctantly use a term that is banded around far too much in food writing these days: it is faultless.
The sandwich, however, sadly, is not. Firstly, it is one of the most enormous sandwiches I had ever eaten which, for £8.95 is good value, but I did wonder if I could eat it all. The bread is fairly good quality sourdough but, despite having a few char-lines on the surface, was not toasted anywhere near enough, which made the sandwich a little tricky to eat. The ingredients were good – the excellent chicken combined with a little crisp bacon, some lettuce and tomato and some good mayo. Despite the quality of these, I could not help but feel a little disappointed.
For one thing, the chicken was fridge-cold, which was not reminiscent of the usual club sandwich where the chicken is warmed a little by the toasted bread, or at room temperature at the very least. The bacon tasted as though it was freshly grilled, but was also cold. Any ideas I had in my mind of a good club sandwich had soon disappeared as I wrestled to eat this monstrous concoction without getting too much chilled mayonnaise on my face.
Of course restaurants want to be creative with their own interpretations of the classics, and sometimes this creates new and ingenious creations, but often it simply doesn’t work. Sadly this was the case with the chicken club sandwich, and that great chicken was not shown at its best. Make it smaller, toast the bread and serve the meat warm and it would be a huge improvement.
Clockjack Oven, 14 Denman Street, London W1D 7HJ.