Melt | Restaurant review
Dion Antic’s sandwich shop is even better for its soups.
How adorable is this place? One wall is a chalkboard, jars of retro candies line the counter, the seating is a mix of old-school desks and primary-colored chairs, and the menus are filed in manila folders (the one I picked up was labeled spelling).
This explosion of cafeteria cuteness comes from an unlikely source, Dion Antic, whose other recent restaurant opening,, is decorated with saws. Nonetheless, it works, and the employees here are as cheery as a septuagenarian lunch lady is surly. In fact, one of these cheery people recommended the Perfect 10, a BLT made with nine strips of bacon.
It behooves me to mention there is no cheese on this particular sandwich; Melt is not exclusively a grilled-cheese emporium but more a sandwich shop. And this was not a bad sandwich—ciabatta, truffle aioli, a couple of very thin slices of tomato—but the thin, salty bacon it was made with wasn’t of the quality to qualify it as a really great sandwich.
Will the six-year-olds for whom this restaurant most likely was built notice? They’ll probably order the All American grilled cheese, a fair and simple toasted sandwich of “yellow and white” cheeses, so probably not. And anyway, it turns out the best things to eat here aren’t sandwiches at all. Each sandwich comes with a little cup of soup (also available as a bowl), and both the tomato and Italian wedding have a rich texture and full flavor that’s missing from the sandwiches. All hail the soup lady!