It’s 12:30 p.m. on a Thursday, and a man walks into the tiny cafe, dreaming of a brisket sandwich. “We’re out,” says Taunia Carter, the woman behind the counter. “Oh, no! That’s my favorite,” the man says, and steps outside. “I’ll come back another day.” Carter sighs. “On a normal day, I’d convince him that he’ll find his next favorite. You know, schmooze a little. But I’m all schmoozed out today.” 

I’m sure she could have sold him on something just as good. Every sandwich I tried at Zaccagni’s downtown was excellent; I cannot pick a favorite. But that day sure seemed hectic. By the middle of lunch hour, they were already sold out of everything except four options. Carter yells them out when someone walks through the door: “We have the chicken, the pork, meatball and roast beef!” That brusque, East Coast charm, plus the no-frills space, gives the place a delightfully non-Seattle vibe.