I’ve always felt that sandwiches have gotten a bad rap.
“Oh, I can’t be bothered to cook, I’ll just make a sandwich.”
Sandwiches rarely find their way onto dinner menus of any kind, and are often overlooked in favor of something more exotic. Their cousins: wraps, calzones, tacos, and even burgers, usually sound far more appealing than “just a sandwich,” not to mention anything else you could order at a restaurant or prepare yourself.
But can sandwiches be classy? Will they ever be considered as a top tier meal choice? What is class anyways?

You say wine, I say box of. You say caviar, I say onion dip. You say catered affair, I say take out. You say poetry, I say beat boxing. You say art gallery, I say subway graffiti. You say opera at the Met, I say underground rock show.
You say fancy restaurant, I say deli?

I’m not trying to say any of the above are good or bad. I like each and every thing mentioned, but folks often approach class with a certain fervor. Whether you refer to it as ‘hoighty-toighty’ or a ‘way of life’, class is in our everyday vocabulary, or at the least, even if we’re not talking about it, class surrounds us and influences our actions towards each other and our environment.

Rat Heaven.
As humans, we like to categorize, and we like to judge. Some of us may be better at hiding it than others, but it’s our nature to rank objects, ideas, and values. From personal beliefs to lifestyle choices, from food to fashion, from sports to the arts – we rank these within a hierarchy of respect, likability, and preference; and we judge those (harshly or not) that don’t follow the same hierarchy we have created for ourselves.

I had jon and amy's double dip, #67.
Zingerman’s Delicatessen sells sandwiches, and I would defend them as classy until the bitter end. Are they pricey? Yes – arguably overpriced. But are they pretentious? No.
Class is so much more than fancy frivolity or an expensive price tag next to a designer logo. Class is elegance: effective, superior, but most importantly – simple. True class is decidedly anti-frivolous. Class doesn’t hide behind a chic appearance and never pretends to be something it isn’t.

An individual with class need not state it. And if someone does tell you they’re classy, it’s safe to assume they’re not. Do let them pick up the check, however. Their ego and your wallet will both thank you.
Zingerman’s runs its business with the utmost of seriousness and sincerity but isn’t afraid to poke fun at itself. Their employees are professional, courteous, and helpful, but at the same time down-to-earth, funny, and both able and willing to engage you in a conversation about anything.

Check out the Queen, Wallace, and Grommit.
Corporations hire the services of ZingTrain, the program Zingerman’s has always used to train its employees. Their training was so effective, for deli workers, that it developed into a seperate business that trains the employees of major corporations around the world. That’s class.

The double dip.
Zingerman’s savvy practices and commitment to both quality and service have spawned a literal empire that remains local yet has worldwide renown, from its humble beginnings as a deli on 422 Detroit Street in 1982, to the 10+ businesses it currently owns and operates.

My kind of sandwich.
So – can sandwiches be classy? Absolutely. Will they ever be considered as a top tier meal choice? Probably not. But hey, who said an underground rock show can’t be as entertaining, intellectually stimulating, and emotionally fulfilling as an opera at the Met?
Talent is talent, taste is taste, and class is whatever you want to make it.
Say what you will about the latter, but Zingerman’s has the former pair in spades.

My kind of brew.
Zingerman’s Delicatessen
422 Detroit Street
Ann Arbor, MI 48103
734-663-3354
Learn about Zingerman’s other businesses here.
