For the uninitiated, spiedies are to New York’s Southern Tier
what chicken wings are to Buffalo, what cheesesteaks are to Philadelphia, and
what the Rochester plate is to, well, Rochester. Those familiar with spiedies
likely know about the dish-specific bottled marinades from Lupo’s Char-pit in
Endicott or Salamida State Fair sauce from Johnson City. There’s even an annual
Spiedie Fest and Balloon Rally every
August in Binghamton’s Otsiningo Park.
In simplest
terms, spiedies are sandwiches; traditionally cubes of long-marinated meat —
originally lamb, but now more commonly chicken or pork is used — skewered,
char-grilled, and served on a hoagie roll or a slice of Italian bread. Zesty
and bold, the marinade is a cousin to Italian dressing, but more copiously
seasoned, and they differ from business to business. The spiedie sandwich is
much greater than the sum of its parts.
The specific
origin of the spiedie is historically hazy, but most agree that Italian
immigrants brought the spiedie to Broome County in the 1920s. They also likely
gave this savory skewered meat its name (spiedino means “skewer”).
SPIEDIElicious
owners Chelsea and Paul Lee — high-school sweethearts who grew up eating
spiedies in the Southern Tier, often at backyard barbecues — didn’t want to
open a barbecue joint, but rather a restaurant emphasizing the Italian roots of
spiedies, while adding their own flair with fresh ideas, flavors, and
combinations.
“My personality
is anything but traditional,” Chelsea says. “I like bold flavors. I like to
experiment. I like bending the rules. We want this to feel like our kitchen, to
offer really good food made from scratch that’s affordable and accessible in a
quick, casual environment.”
SPIEDIElicious
makes traditional spiedies; for now only chicken is on the menu, but the Lees say
they are perfecting a process for pork to meet their high standards. They
marinate the chicken for three days in homemade sauce. Then it’s grilled and
overstuffed into homemade bread, which was baked in a wood-fired brick oven that
was imported from Italy. The bread, made with a 100-year-old Neapolitan recipe,
is similar to pita but hardier, made with a high-gluten flour and brick-oven
baked to make it poof out, Chelsea says.
“The
Classic” (a steal at $8; I’ve yet to finish one in a single sitting) is the
Lees’ take on the original spiedie sandwich. I opted to finish it with a
drizzle of the house-made hot sauce, and it was a flavor bomb of epic
proportions.
Beyond the
original, one of their most popular sandwich creations is “That Dude” ($10),
which consists of grilled spiedies, apple butter, cheddar, and house-made berry
balsamic vinegar. I tried a “Tom Boy” sandwich ($13), which includes grilled
spiedies, homemade tomato jam, fried jalapeños, and Gouda. Savory, sweet,
spicy, chewy, and gooey; there was lots going on inside that pillow-y bread.
As with all
the dishes, the Lees incorporate intriguing ingredients that pair well and
accentuate the vinegar, parsley, garlic, and oregano flavors in the marinade. SPIEDIElicious
also sells its marinade (32 oz. container/$10) and uncooked marinated spiedies
(32 oz. container/$15) to use at home.
The Lees’
goal of combining old-school Italian fare with innovative combinations is
further evidenced in the menu of wood-fired, 12-inch pizzas, most of which
include spiedies as toppings, though anything on the menu is available in a
vegetarian version. Chelsea emphasized that they are very accommodating in
terms of interchanging ingredients among menu items, and they encourage
experimentation. What you won’t get on your pizza, however, is pepperoni. As
part of the effort to use the best quality, least-processed ingredients,
SPIEDIElicious instead offers piquant sliced andouille sausage as a pizza
topping.
My
girlfriend Molly’s daughters, Norah and Jocelyn, feasted on a traditional
“Cheesy Guy” pizza ($8) made with the slightly sweet house red sauce —
developed in a collaborative cook-off between Chelsea and Paul — and abundant
mozzarella. I tried a “Quiet One” pizza ($12), topped with the house red sauce,
sliced mushrooms, prosciutto, onions, grilled spiedies, and mozzarella. After
the first slice, I warmed to the idea of spiedies on pizza and appreciated the
ways all the disparate flavors magnificently melded. Typical of good wood-fired
pizzas, the crusts were thin, pleasantly chewy, and appropriately charred.
SPIEDIElicious
also serves seven substantial salads, all with homemade dressings, and Molly
selected “The Secret Garden” ($15), which includes a mix of fresh greens, grilled
spiedies, grapes, candied walnuts, pepper jack cheese, and the house apple-berry
balsamic dressing — another panoply of flavors.
They shake
things up with intriguing side dishes, such as the roasted, buttered fingerling
potatoes ($4) with garlic, Parmesan, and chopped chives. The fire-roasted
broccoli florets with Parmesan ($4) are tender, yet firm. And the passion fruit
coleslaw ($4) includes passion fruit purée with sundry shredded cabbages, kale,
and carrots. It was crunchy and fresh, tangy and sweet, and the passion fruit
flavor elevated this slaw above most.
SPIEDIElicious
does not sell soda, but instead offers eight house-made juice drinks
($2/unlimited refills) in peach, watermelon, wild berry, raspberry, blood
orange, strawberry, black cherry, and passion fruit. They’re made using only fruit
purées, water, and simple syrup. These drinks, along with ice water, are dispensed
into real glassware.
Similarly
sustainably, SPIEDIElicious uses only real flatware. And the pizza box tops easily
separate into four plates, after which the bottoms of the biodegradable boxes
(all food containers are either biodegradable and/or recyclable) then break
down even smaller to take home any leftover pizza. SPIEDIElicious has a video on its Facebook
page demonstrating this clever procedure. And, sparing no detail, the trash
receptacles are made from recycled milk jugs.
This article appears in Sep 4-10, 2019.
