Hollingshead is a deli in Orange, California. More precisely, it’s part deli, part craft beer store, part bar, part Green Bay Packers fan club. It’s the kind of place that always gets a barrel of the rarest brews, like Russian River’s Pliny the Younger or anything aged in bourbon barrels for many months or years. It’s the kind of place that has mugs behind the bar labeled with its regulars’ nicknames: my tall boyfriend was always known as “Tiny” there.
But the reason why my last wish in LA was Hollingshead had nothing to do with the 500 hard-to-track down bottled beers or the nearly two dozen on tap. It was the sandwiches.
My sandwich of choice was always the Great Scott on squaw, which I ordered the first time Jake took me there. It’s fairly straightforward as sandwiches go: Smoked turkey, bacon, avocado, Swiss cheese, mayo, honey mustard, lettuce and onions. The bread is steamed—yes, STEAMED—never toasted, and is perfectly airy, pillowy.
Cool place to hang.