Portraits
By Tan VinhSoo Li
Pitches a great sandwich, and it's a steal
Mariners season has arrived, which means Soo Li needs to get her arm ready.
The Sandwich Lady, as patrons call her, makes to order some 200 Vietnamese subs or banh mis on game days for baseball fans who flock to her storefront, Saigon Gourmet on South King Street, on their way to the ballpark a few blocks away.
Hundreds of baseball fans have made her part of their pre-game ritual, because at a cost of $1.50 to $2, the banh mi is a steal compared to a ballpark frank or burger.
Fans have fallen in love with her distinctive subs — the deep-fried tofu with two fried eggs is a homage to the South; the all-American roast beef gets a sweet-and-sour twist.
During the baseball season, the line of sport fans will spill out into the Chinatown International District before games.
Good thing she has the equivalent of a 90-mile-an-hour fastball in sandwich-making. After ordering, patrons usually get their subs and are out the door in less than 25 seconds.
A typical banh mi that Li assembles: a spread of pate and mayonnaise on a rice-flour baguette, some pickled carrots and radish, jalapeņo peppers, cucumbers and cilantro, followed by some pork cold cuts or other meat and squirts of soy sauce.
Li, 31, has worked the past three years at the restaurant owned by her husband, Andy To.
The mother of three children who lives on Beacon Hill, though, doesn't eat banh mis.
After making hundreds of the things six days a week, she says, "I don't want to look at them at the end of the night."
