Specialty Sandwich Co — Restaurant in Holden

We were somewhere around the kitchen on the edge of the bar when the beer began to take hold. I remember saying something like, “I feel a tremendous hunger for eggs, but this dish is too white, too clean—like the inside of a padded cell.” Suddenly, there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like giant swooping bats, all swooping and screeching and flapping their leathery wings over the bland, porcelain wasteland before us. Dr. Gonzo, my attorney and spiritual advisor, was hunched over the counter, trying to stuff a grapefruit into a briefcase already jammed with a variety of exciting opportunities.

“Don’t touch that dish!” he barked, eyes wild behind mirrored aviators. “It’s a trap. The last time I saw a plate that white, I woke up in a Reno jail with my shoes missing and a tattoo of Nixon on my thigh.”

But there was no time for reflection. Out of the trunk of a battered Cadillac in the driveway, a man named Crosby emerged—persistent, sweating, clutching a tray of Jello. He moved with the stealth of a game show host on the run. “Ladies!” he crooned, “Care for a little pudding?” He was everywhere, popping out of glove compartments, mailboxes, even the dishwasher, always with that infernal Jello and a pocketful of dubious pills. The women scattered, shrieking, as Crosby pursued, undeterred, like some deranged mascot for a pharmaceutical company gone rogue.

Meanwhile, the bats circled lower, their wings casting monstrous shadows over the dish. Dr. Gonzo was muttering about extradition treaties and the dangers of monochrome tableware. “This isn’t food, man,” he hissed. “It’s a blank check for madness. Only a fool or a criminal would serve a meal on something so devoid of soul.”

Suddenly, Crosby made his final move—leaping onto the table, arms full of Jello, eyes wild with gelatinous ambition. The bats, sensing weakness, descended in a flurry of wings and teeth. There was a hideous shriek, a rainbow spray of pudding, and then silence. When the dust cleared, only the plain white dish remained—spotless, unblemished, and utterly indifferent to the carnage.

Dr. Gonzo wiped his brow and surveyed the scene. “Well,” he said, “that’s one way to clean a plate.”

We left the kitchen then, the bats receding into the distance, the dish gleaming in the morning light—a silent witness to excess, madness, and the eternal struggle between man, dessert, and crockery. In the end, the plate survived. Crosby did not. Such is the way of the world in the...

I really want to like this place. There's not too many options available in the area, and I'd like to imagine that you can't go wrong with a sandwich.

This place really struggles with special requests. The past three times I've eaten here, my order has never been correct. I think a lot of the problem comes from asking for things like no tomatoes. I don't always have that issue if I don't change the menu item specifics.

Honestly though, nothing changes the fact that nothing here is very good. The sandwiches are mediocre, the salads are nothing to write home about, and the side is a tiny bag of boring chips. The only decent thing in the whole place is the Italian dressing. Maybe I'm bitter about the times I've asked for that dressing and didn't get it. Maybe I should check my stuff before walking out of the building. But what I'm probably going to do is avoid eating at...

Really wanted to like this place, just didn't happen. Outside deck is nice, that's it for the good.Took forever to place drink order and even longer to get the drinks. Got the drinks and one of the beers had a huge crack in the glass, very obvious. Placed our orders, took forever for the food. Different waitress gave everyone the wrong food. Once everyone had the correct orders it was time to eat. That was a mistake. I had the southern beef, trying to be nice here but it was dog food on a roll. Friend got the buffalo Caesar chicken and he stated it tasted like cat food. Sense a theme? It was also on a roll and he ordered a wrap. Kids pizza was gross. I will say the cheese dip that came with the pretzel was pretty good. 4 adults and 4 kids, $230 for gross food, but hey the memories are priceless. I wanted to go to Quinns but it was packed! Should have...