Cheap Eats - A slice of Vermont in the suburbs

“Why are you slowing down?”

“The Google map said this is where it’s supposed to be.”

“This is an office building — keep going. It must be farther down.”

Welcome to my life. My husband and I are meeting a friend for lunch at the Vermont Mustard Company, we are 10 minutes late, and our internal navigation systems just seem to go haywire. It happens anytime we find ourselves outside the Perimeter. Five minutes later, we pull into a tidy little strip mall. Who knew a little piece of Vermont was alive and well in the Atlanta suburbs?

Goin’ to the Country: I can’t say I was entirely transported, but the Vermont Mustard Company does have a pleasant country store appeal. Landscape photos hang from rough-hewn plank walls. A seating area occupies most of the space, with one wall dedicated to all manner of Vermont goodies, most of them involving maple in some form — breakfast cereal, pancake and waffle mixes, chutneys and salsas. Oh, and mustard, of course.

Which ‘Wich is which?: All the sandwiches are made with fresh, high-quality meats from McKenzie Meats of Vermont. There’s quite a selection to choose from. In fact, I got a little confused. There are three turkey sandwiches on the menu. The condiment seems to be the distinguishing factor: One sandwich may be topped with raspberry honey mustard, while another gets doused with amber ale honey mustard.

Best of the Best: The Mad River Maple Honey Turkey ($8.10) was a knockout, served on a buttery croissant and slathered with cream cheese and tangy-sweet apple chutney. The most distinctive sandwich we ordered was the elaborately named Maple Cured Cobb Smoked BLT ($7). Smoky bacon, crisp lettuce and tomato, and syrupy-sweet honey mustard made for an irresistible combination. On my next trek I’ll try the Northeast King ($5), an Elvis-worthy sandwich of peanut butter, bananas and bacon topped with a squirt of maple syrup and grilled.

All the Rest: Harold’s Ham and Vermont Cheddar sandwich ($8.80), though the most pedestrian of the bunch, still satisfied. My only complaint with it — and a few others — was that the subtle flavors of the meat and cheese were nearly overpowered by intense condiments. That was definitely the case with the Raspberry Honey Turkey and Provolone ($8.50) — meek turkey and provolone cheese were no match for sinus-burning raspberry honey mustard.

Sticker Shock: I should mention that I choked a little when they rang up our order. Many sandwiches clock in at well over $8, and kettle-cooked Madhouse Munchies potato chips cost $2 a bag. Specialty sodas ring in at a pricey $3. I’m glad I ordered the blackberry-huckleberry sparkling soda, though. I drove all the way to Vermont — I figure I earned it.

Vermont Mustard Company