Grub Street

God forbid the Underground Gourmet should ever find himself in a holding cell on death row, with little hope of Ms. U.G. coming through with the file baked into a cake or the governor issuing a stay of execution. But if he does, at least he’ll know what to order for his last meal on Earth. That would be the foie-gras-and-smoked-­Cheddar grilled cheese sandwich from Chez Sardine, the latest addition to Gabriel Stulman’s burgeoning West Village empire. This is one of those dishes that fall squarely under the heading of things that sound horribly wrong but taste incredibly right. Yes, it’s fat on fat and — taking into account the generously buttered bread — even more fat, but the beauty of this stupendous morsel lies in its unexpected balance. The Sullivan St Bakery filone is expertly griddled to the golden-brown point where slightly greasy meets delicately crisp; the house-smoked fromage is as well melted as a jar of micro­waved Velveeta; and the kitchen deploys the foie gras almost like a condiment in little half-moon dabs so it doesn’t steal the show. Pickled onion and cucumber deliver some acid and crunch, while the accompanying bottle of green Tabasco is a nice touch that proves this is one glorified grilled cheese that doesn’t take itself too seriously.

In a nutritional about-face from a prior concession, Books of Wonder has recruited City Bakery’s Maury Rubin, who’s opening a pop-up Birdbath in the space once occupied by Cupcake Café. For the next three months, Rubin will operate the takeout counter as a “green burger joint,” feeding juvenile bibliophiles vegan burgers and quasi-healthy desserts, before converting the space into a permanent Birdbath branch this spring. Rubin pulls no punches with his BBvDBB (pictured), short for “Birdbath version of Daniel Boulud Burger,” a black-bean-and-red-pepper burger stuffed inside a falafel burger. (It’s his answer to the Frenchman’s foie-gras-and-truffle claim to patty fame.) Other options include a freekeh burger with Fuji apple and shiro miso sauce, and a bulgur-pumpkin-seed burger tucked into a m’smen, Hot Bread Kitchen’s Moroccan flatbread. For dessert, a trio of ice-cream splits includes one made with grilled pineapple, coconut gelato, and hibiscus syrup.

Inspired perhaps by the New York Public Library’s Lunch Hour NYC exhibit (or maybe just a love of turkey club sandwiches and iceberg lettuce), the folks at midtown’s Maloney & Porcelli will unveil a fifties-style soda fountain and luncheonette on the restaurant’s third floor next week. Among chefs Craig Koketsu and James Jermyn’s updated offerings: two takes on chopped steak, three on the iceberg-wedge salad, banana-cream-pie ice cream, and an oysters Rockefeller po’boy. A bona fide soda jerk presides over a ten-seat counter; the rest of the lunch crowd can get their blood-orange-creamsicle sodas tableside from the guy pushing the AvroKO-designed beverage cart.

Between Black Tree’s germination inside a Crown Heights tavern and Rocket Pig’s emergence in a shed behind Trestle on Tenth, this might be the era of the sandwich pop-up. To mark its one-year anniversary next week, the Wayland will launch its own extemporaneous handheld enterprise: a fifteen-seat sandwich shop called Animals, serving lunch weekdays from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. in the cocktail bar’s recently opened expansion. About a dozen selections are priced between $8 and $10, including a pulled-bacon torta with refried baked beans and chile mayo (pictured), hot shrimp with harissa butter and celery slaw, and a vegetarian “kitchen sink” with jalapeño pesto. There are also sides like creamed chicories, optional add-ons (chips, an egg) the menu refers to as “swag,” and housemade sodas and juices—in case it’s too early for the signature Fernet-and-cola.