Eat-N-Write is the Daily’s weekly food review column, written by two college students, Paul Kix and Tim Paluch, on the lookout for affordable meals under $10. Despite what they may write, they are not actual food critics and their culinary expertise is little to none. All restaurants reviewed are local, non-chain establishments.

After a three-month layoff, “Eat-N-Write” cut a deal with the FCC. Good news is we aren’t considered obscene anymore. But unfortunately, Zach Calef had to step down for us to make our long-awaited return.

Taking Zach’s place is Paul “never gives a bad review” Kix, who once contracted a severe case of salmonella poisoning after eating an undercooked Cornish hen, but still gave it two “enthusiastic” thumbs up.

For Paul’s debut review, we took in lunch at Downtown Deli, 328 Main St. Tucked next to a hair salon, this is the kind of place you’ll miss if you walk by too fast.

Restaurant Atmosphere

Tim: It was a Saturday afternoon, right about 2, and the deli was hopping. I hadn’t been to the Downtown Deli before, but I didn’t expect the long lines. That told me right away this place likely knew how to make a good sandwich.

The room itself looks built more for a coffee shop than a deli, with two levels, one about a foot above the ground floor. There were only about a dozen tables in the place, and while we were in line, all but two were taken.

Paul: Downtown Deli is about as cultured as a delicatessen gets in Ames, Iowa. Sometimes on Saturday afternoons, opera from the radio in the back room bounces off the art on the brick walls next to the tables. No “La Boheme” today, though. No music at all, actually. Just the sound of people eating and a two-year-old informing her dad that tennis is on the television screen by the entryway.

Tim’s right though. The place is small. I like to think of it as quaint.

Tim: Well excuse us, Monsieur Kix. “About as cultured” as it gets? Pardon me if I failed to stop by the Louvre on the way over for a quick looksie at dem dar perty paintings. We like our delis uncultured here in Ames, just so happens, and if that doesn’t suit you well enough, take your appetite somewhere more to your liking. Like Florence. Or Milan. Pretty pompous for the new guy.

Paul: I’m just trying to cover your ass. You’re a popular guy. People might have noticed Saturday the rather, ahem, rustic way you acted. We go in there and Tim’s scratching himself, and the entire time he repeatedly asks – rather loudly if I might say so myself – “What do you got good here to eat, huh?”

Just trying to make us look like guys who know the difference between Miss Saigon and Miss October.

Anyway, Downtown had track lighting that wasn’t an overbearing, half-brother of fluorescent lighting.

Tim: Once Paul ceased complaining about his Versace boots getting dirty and there being nowhere to hang his panda-skin jacket, I got to take a good look around.

For the most part, the majority of the patrons were younger, college-aged. I imagine this is the kind of place where first-timers become regulars pretty quickly, leading to many, many return visits. It’s dark inside, but light enough to read the Newsweeks sitting on a shelf in the back, though. The out-of-place hanging flower over Paul’s seat was about the brightest thing in the restaurant.

Overall, I can see myself here on a regular basis. Without Paul, that is. It’s laid-back with a subtle “uncultured” charm to it. Thumbs up for me.

Paul: Dude, I’m not some sort of WASP living on Park Avenue drinking from a martini that’s as dry as my laugh. I mean, hogs and soybeans were my neighbors growing up. I like the ambience too – cultured or no. Thumbs up.

Service

Tim: This isn’t a sit-down, take-your-order type place. Just walk in, get in line and hope there’s an open table when you get your sandwich. In our case, there was.

And lying on that table were three empty food baskets from the customers eating there before us. It’s usually hard to find a flaw in the service of an eatery where you seat yourself without a waiter or waitress. But in this case, I found one. And unfortunately, that translates into a thumbs down for me.

Paul: Yeah, ours was a glass-covered table that had a few specks of the sandwich the patron before us left behind. Thumbs down.

Food Quality

Tim: The menu at Downtown Deli was pretty substantial. In addition to the daily specials – soups of the day, cookies – the selection of meats is impressive. Ham, turkey, pepperoni, pastrami, capicola, beef and plenty of others, all reasonably priced. Sandwiches come in two sizes – seven- and 14-inch. I originally planned on ordering only a seven-inch, but Paul convinced me to go for the full 14. Pastrami on white, no tomatoes, everything else, large iced tea: $7.90. Not bad, if you ask me.

Paul: Fourteen-inch capicola – the lady passes the meat through the meat slicer thing right in front of you – on rye, loaded with everything, baked in the oven long enough to melt the cheese.

I also got Doritos and a small Pepsi. $7.30 total. I’m happy. Tim wasn’t. They didn’t heat his meat. Or his buns. Didn’t even ask to.

Tim: Yeah, Downtown Deli does it right. None of that pre-sliced, pre-wrapped crap they try to pawn off as “fresh” at other sandwich joints in town. And my sandwich was just fine despite them not even asking to warm it up.

I’m glad I decided on the 14-inch. The sandwich is thinner than one might expect, so 14 inches is a little deceiving when we’re talking pure size of the sandwich.

Paul: I like telling people that too.

Yeah, the sandwich isn’t enough. That’s why I got chips. The meal’s damn good though. It’s tough to act like you care what the person across from you is saying when eating.

Also hard to take small, accepted bites. (How cultured am I now?) The only problem with the meal was the napkins. They’re small. More like those tiny moist cloths you get after downing a half-pound of ribs. I’m not asking for the Brawny man to stop by, but give me something that will wipe my face off in one swipe.

Tim: If you’re hungry, and I’m talking old-school-Ricki-Lake-after-a-dime-bag-hungry, Downtown Deli’s biggest sandwich isn’t going to completely fill you up. But hell, these are good sandwiches, so just get two if need be.

As for the napkins being too small, sure, for Paul they may be. Then again, even the Brawny man couldn’t concoct an absorbent device that could fit hands that palm a medicine ball. They worked fine for me.

Food’s good, and that’s all that really matters. Thumbs up for me.

Paul: And dare I say, a rival to the sub you’ll get at West Street Deli? An “enthusiastic” thumbs up.