Ike’s Place

Allow me to begin with a quick acknowledgment of my lack of geographic exploration. I realize that Alive Magazine reaches the better parts of the Tri-Valley area as quickly as I realize that for the last eight months my boundaries have seldom left the Danville area. Not very Ponce de Leon of me. By way of explanation I can only offer that (obviously) this is my backyard, and with a potential fussy seven month old in the car, traveling outside the comfort zone of town can be daunting. But alas, you the reader should not feel overfed or neglected, and so I offer you my word that the next articles will be written outside Danville until I have covered all the cities in our circulation. On to business!

Have you ever witnessed a food movement—something so large and influential that, like a zeppelin, seems to silently move into town in the dead of night and redefines your food beliefs? I have.

Meet Ike. Everybody I have talked to says this is the best sandwich they have ever had; but why? First, you strap the standard list of deli ingredients to a box of dynamite, then step the mandatory safe distance away, then BOOM…blow the standards all over a mountain of unorthodox sandwich fillers like mozzarella sticks, onion rings, or jalapeno poppers. Next, go ahead and sauce up your creation with mind twisters like cranberry sauce, Sriracha, marinara, or coleslaw. Finally, for good measure, put it all on freshly baked bread lathered in Ike’s Dirty Secret Sauce (a mayo/garlic concoction) prior to baking. This is Ike.

Ike first opened in the Castro District and quickly angered the neighbors by serving over 1200 customers a day. Since then he has opened eight more locations to serve the masses, and the numbers have not dwindled. Thankfully he found his way to the Trader Joes shopping center in Danville.

I hope by now that you have come to rely on me offering my monthly reports worthy of praise for more than the food. As stated, I enjoy dissecting every nuance of a restaurant, and yes, while the sandwiches here are beyond extraordinary, an isolated incident on my first visit compels this article.

It was busy, of course, and my wife and I approached the counter confused. The menu boasts well over 200 unique variations of this American staple and we settled on a #49 and #214. The helpful teen behind the counter rang us up for a #49 and two #14’s. I should have caught it but didn’t until the card was charged. There would have to be a manager involved to facilitate the refund and we were in danger of creating a pile up. This had the potential to get ugly. In seconds, the bright aura of the girl in charge sauntered to the counter, made a quick analysis of the situation, gathered the correct information and refunded my card while informing me that they would like to purchase our sandwiches for the (three minute) inconvenience. I had no time to refute. It was done. She thanked us “so much” for coming in and in 10 minutes my wife and I were having our taste buds ripped from our mouths. You cannot teach this type of customer service, especially to a person that is spending their whole shift “in the weeds.” Sold for life!

As an ode to you, my readers, I want to buy you an Ike’s. Drop me a line to let me know you’re reading every month and I will select five random people to deliver a voucher for a free Ike’s. My only advice is to bring an umbrella if it’s raining because you might be waiting outside.

Drop me a line at tobintullis@yahoo.com with the subject Line: “Ike’s” … I will reply!