This is the Schmaltz's to go to. It's open later, it's cleaner than the downtown location and it has always seemed more laid back, like I can take a little time pondering whether I can devour a cup of soup in addition to a huge sammich or not.
Now, let's talk about that sammich. The Schmaltz has pretty much everything I want in a sandwich, just with a couple things I always ask to leave off (tomato and olive--no thanks). The bread is fantastic. It's substantial enough on the outside to keep your sandwich from falling apart, yet soft enough on the inside to soak up all the different flavors of the sandwich like a sponge. The garlic butter and combination of cheeses make it truly divine.
They never skimp on the mayo when I ask for lots of it, too, and they actually put it on the sandwich when it's being made. Sandwich shops can always point you towards the bin of extra mayo packets when you ask for a condiment that's not usually on the sandwich, but let's be honest, it's a serious pain to disassemble a pile of meat, cheese and other treats that has been oozing and melting together into one solid mass of food. Reconstructing a sandwich after breaking the mortar-like bonds of the cheese that's holding it together is near impossible. Your sandwich can never be as tightly-packed together as it would be if you hadn't had to take it apart to add mayo. It's the little things like putting enough mayo to drown Quebec on in the sandwich construction phase that count, dude.
Consequently, the Schmaltz (add lots of mayo, take off tomatoes and olives) in all its gooey, buttery, mayonnaisey glory is the best dang sandwich in Waco.
I love their soups as well. The Wisconsin Cheddar soup usually rounds out my cheese-and-mayo-fueled laugh in the face of artery-clogged death. It's basically a big, creamy bowl of cheese, and best eaten with a bit of hot sauce mixed in. They usually have at least the regular and the jalapeno Tabasco on hand, too. Like I said, it's the little things that Schmaltz's doesn't forget that makes it awesome.
