Can PaperBoy save downtown Minneapolis…
…from boring sandwiches? Perhaps.
That’s at least the goal of co-owners Kamal Mohamed and Yon Belaineh, who own and lead the pastry game at trendy organic cafe Parcelle, respectively. Last year they launched PaperBoy inside the Baker Center, betting that a Tuscan-inspired sandwich shop could lure the downtown lunch crowd. Here’s hoping enough customer base remains because, man, that stretch of skyway was dead on a recent Friday. Like, Sonny Corleone dead—vacant storefronts, almost zero foot traffic, deserted common areas. PaperBoy sits smack dab across the corridor from skyway lunch GOAT Sushi Takatsu, and those two shops feel like they’re on an island. It would be nice if downtown wasn’t like this!
We didn’t fight any lines to place our order at PaperBoy’s brightly lit counter, where we watched a speedy team of two fresh-slicing meats and carefully assembling our sandwiches. (Mohamed and Belaineh reportedly institute a daily cap of 200 sandwiches to maintain quality.) We ordered the whole menu, but our sandwiches were ready in a flash—if you’re looking for an excuse to spend a long time away from your desk, they’ll be no help!
PaperBoy serves all of its sandwiches on schiacciata, a Tuscan flatbread that’s kind of like a skinnier, slightly crispier focaccia, and those attributes lend it to sandwich vesseldom in a lovely way. Like Marty’s Deli, which made a case for serving all sammies on focaccia when it opened a few years ago, PaperBoy is doing tremendous PR for schiacciata—even the blander of the sandwiches we tried got a boost from the sturdy and flavorful fermented bread.
How do the rest of the ingredients stack up? Well…
7. Bianca ($15)
When designing a turkey sandwich, the sandwich architect should be gripped by the paranoia of: Is this thing dull? Turkey sandwiches, as a rule, don’t have to be dull. But that’s the rap, and the Bianca ain’t beating it. The creamy stracciatella cheese doesn't bring enough stank, the roasted veggies barely packed any textural benefit, and, I'm sorry, extra virgin olive oil isn't a sauce—mayo would've been more exciting. That said, it’s clear we’re working with fresh, higher-end ingredients here, so between the pleasant meat and delightful bread, the experience isn’t a net negative. We’ve had $15 bummer sandwiches, one of the yupster life’s great sadnesses. The Bianca, instead, exists in a nether region of “eh, fine.”
6. Caprese ($13)
A caprese is a simple thing: mozzarella, tomato, basil, and a splash of balsamic glaze and olive oil are all it takes to craft what some would call the perfect summer sandwich. But you know what you’re getting with a caprese, and the take from PaperBoy is nothin’ special. Sad, thin slices of mozz sit alongside similarly skinny tomato slices, which are offset with only a paltry smear of pistachio pesto and halfhearted drizzle of balsamic. There was no basil anywhere to be found on our sandwich (though it was listed on the menu, so YMMV). That said, these fresh ingredients really do compliment the schiacciata bread. With a few tweaks—a meatier hunk of tomato, more of that pesto and balsamic—PaperBoy’s caprese could be memorable instead of just serviceable.
5. Pistachio Paradise ($15)
As Italian meats go, mortadella is pretty mild. It’s almost silky-smooth, and it doesn’t have the peppery punch of soppressata, the kick of capicola, or the rich and salty magic of prosciutto. In other words, you’re going to need a little something to set it off, and a cheese as mild as stracciatella ain’t it, even if the accompanying pistachios provide some much-needed crunch. Like the sandwiches beneath it on this list, PaperBoy’s Pistachio Paradise isn’t bad. But at this price point, it left us wanting more oomph, unlike those in slots one through four. (Plus, we have the truly excellent, mega-flavorful mortadella sandwich from South Lyndale Liquors ($15.95) to compare it to.)
4. Tuna Conserva ($15)
Like most urban millennials who watched Chef’s Table, we’ve just recently become obsessed with chili crisp. Sandwich, eggs, pizza—don’t matter, it’s getting chili crisped. And honestly, the Tuna Conserva would be serviceable without its spoonful of zippy calabrian chilli oil. But goddamnit if that concoction doesn’t elevate the whole experience. A culinary cheat code! Elsewhere on the sandwich, you’ll find flaky tin fish of a tier that suggests the can reads “pole caught,” a delectable artichoke cream, roasted tomato, and that herbaceous leafy green that once became a quaint political scandal for President Obama. (Remember when that sorta thing dominated a news cycle? God help us.) Not to sound all HR scoldy, but you really shouldn’t smooch your officemates after housing this fish ‘wich.
3. Villa Verde ($13)
A really good vegetarian sandwich can make you forget you’re even eating a vegetarian sandwich, and the Villa Verde does that. You’ve got big, fat roasted bell peppers and tomatoes for smokiness. You’ve got an herbed goat cheese packed with so many herbs that the spread is fully green, not just flecked with color. You’ve got enough arugula, the go-to green at PaperBoy, to meet your daily requirement of vitamins K and C. And you’ve got a whisper of preserved lemon rounding the whole thing out with a note of complex sweetness. All great, and available for a few bucks less than the menu’s more expensive options.
2. Fiorentina ($15)
No lilies were gilded in the conception of this Italian honker: generous ribbons of salty and satisfying prosciutto, fat slabs of fresh mozz, sneaky hints of truffle cream throughout, and a perfectly OK tomato slice. Oh, yeah, and also more of that freaking arugula. (Can you guess which green topped our top-ranked sandwich below?) This is a big-boy sandwich done right. Now, taking a massive salumi shot to the dome during work lunch ain’t for the faint of heart (and for the love of god, certainly not for the heart attack prone!), so we suggest making an office friend, confirming they enjoy cured meats, and then possibly splitting the Fiorentina with them as you both munch into the Last of Us void that is downtown Minneapolis.
1. The Boss ($16)
Whaddaya know about bresaola? It’s the star of this sandwich—an aged, air-dried, salted beef so red in hue that on first glance, we thought it was a beet. It’s also fantastically soft, as you’ll discover upon sinking our teeth into the menu-topping Boss. As on some of PaperBoy’s other sandwiches, you’ve got peppery arugula for a verdant crunch and roasted tomatoes for warmth; unique to the Boss are slices of nutty pecorino toscano that lend a bit of richness. It all just works together beautifully. And check out how much meat is piled on there!
PaperBoy
Address: 733 S. Marquette Ave. #223, Minneapolis
Hours: 10:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. Monday through Friday
