Roy Passin, restaurateur extraordinaire, inventor of myriad sandwiches, hero of my youth.

"There are many ways to feed your hungry guests"

He knew them all.→[More:]

Mr. Passin served in North Africa and Italy during WWII and earned a degree from Georgetown University's School of Foreign Service, then ran a deli and a grocery store before opening Roy's Place in Gaithersburg, Maryland, in 1955. He opened a second Roy's Place (called "Roy's Place Too!") in my hometown of Columbia, some time in the seventies, I guess. The place was an absolute garden of delights for a ten-year old. I remember a great big old lit-up Wurlitzer jukebox with a wild selection of tunes, walls covered (and I mean covered) with old advertisements, recruitment posters, daguerrotype portraiture, stuffed mooseheads (one with a big band-aid on the tip of his nose), great big paintings of great big odalisques, dark wood, bright lights, brass.

It was a noisy place, especially when someone ordered number 86, the Bender Schmender, a five-decker affair that would bring the whole kitchen staff out, banging pots and singing. My brother and I would take forever to choose sandwiches, always giggling at number 111, the Real Gasser (Excuse me!!). They used to have a sandwich called the Breath of Spring, with blue cheese and raw onions and I think anchovies and maybe brisket; I can't find it on the menu now but I used to love it. Other favorites included number 83, the Mean Alice (Off with their heads!!), number 121, the Chester A. Chester (A real two-breasted sandwich), and Mother's Ruin (Three sausages and a spot of gin). What fun!

The Columbia branch closed decades ago to be replaced by a string of failed Italian joints. But every year at Christmastime my brother and a few old friends and I go down to Gaithersburg, to the original Roy's Place, and recapture the time of our lives. I've always thought it would be a great place for a meta-meetup, so maybe when I get sick of sucking shit in NYC and move back to the land of pleasant living, I'll try to arrange one. I hope Roy's stays open that long.

To that end, I recommend to anyone in the area, go to Roy's Place, have a crazy sandwich in a wacky setting served to you by the best waitress in the world (she's been there forever, knows all the sandwiches by name and number and can even tell you what's in 'em; quiz her if you don't believe me). They probably need your business, and you probably need a sandwich.

Thanks, Roy. Believe it or not (and I think you believed it) your sandwiches made a lot of people's lives better, richer, and a sight goofier.