When José Andrés contemplated the idea of opening a food truck, he couldn't have scratched his head more than once or twice before settling upon the idea of selling flautas. Served in slender ficelle loaves that mimic the look of a flute (thus, the name), flautas are a popular street food option in Barcelona.
Naturally, with Andrés entering the fray of DC's food truck scene, it is quite understandable that he would want to sell these unique sandwiches. They tap into Andrés' own storehouse of food memories, can be efficiently churned out within the relatively restrictive confines of a food truck, and, are, at least theoretically, discrete, easy-to-eat items that folks in Barcelona, anyway, can eat with one hand while hailing a cab with the other.
However, few people here would concede that the flautas offered by Pepe are that easy to eat. Instead, most of the flautas (all of which are about ten inches long), in fact, are quite unwieldy. Certainly, to eat these sandwiches generally requires two hands in order to stabilize the bountiful meats and generous condiments so that the whole does not fall (or slide) apart.
The daunting Pepito de Ibérico, Pepe's signature offering, might be the heftiest of the eight sandwiches on the menu (and not necessarily by weight and girth only). At $20, some have already jokingly claimed that the Pepito de Ibérico is the most expensive legal item for sale on the streets of DC.
Made with ultra-exclusive Ibérico pork and glorious Serrano ham, the sandwich is further graced with roasted green peppers, caramelized onions, and an authentic garlic-based aioli. The pork is tender but inordinately greasy; the ham is decadent and salty. With the pasty lather of onions and aioli, the Pepito de Ibérico is a delicious, unmistakably messy indulgence.
Whether it is worth its price tag is debatable. Certainly, the simple but assured Jamón Serrano y Queso Manchego flauta, which is essentially a suped-up ham and cheese sandwich, is a more than adequate substitute for the Pepito de Ibérico at half the cost. Other sandwiches also rival (if not surpass) the Pepito de Ibérico in flavor and taste.
The Fútbol Club Barcelona, reported to be Andrés' favorite on the menu, is well executed and deceptively assertive. Consisting of thinly shaved chicken and bacon topped with lettuce, tomato, and shallot mayo, this flauta truly shines. It is a taut torpedo of a sandwich and a perfect melding of meat and mayo. With one bite, the bacon might offer a tempting cameo; then, with another, the crispy ficelle or an array of shallot notes may rear its head for attention. And, unlike its cohorts, the Fútbol Club Barcelona is clean and unexpectedly neat.
The Spanish Grilled Cheese is ultra-thin, crusty, and features a seductive blend of Manchego, Murcia, Valdeón, Membrillo, and fresh goat cheese (with the blue cheese notes of the Valdeón gaining favor but not dominantly). The Escalivada is Pepe's lone vegetarian option, which, intentionally or not, showcases the wonderful ficelle bread at the expense of the nonetheless tasty roasted eggplant inside it.
The Butifarra Burger and Pollo Frito, featuring a pork loaf and a boneless fried chicken patty respectively, are good with an oozing tomato-based brava sauce at play on each occasion; but, they strain to be special. However, only the Pepito de Ternera is a clear miss. Its seared beef tenderloin is bland, chewy (even sinewy in spots), and, with its slather of caramelized onions and piquillo pepper confit dripping out at the edges without offering much in the way of flavor, this flauta is, in a word, unappetizing.
Why the chefs at Pepe don't rein in the grease and fussy condiments to ensure a less messy experience is unclear. Although the level of grease may be tolerable (depending on the customer), the state of affairs surely makes for an aesthetically unappealing product. Oh, well...nobody said gourmet fare from a food truck had to be pretty. Just be prepared. read more