Tucked away in The Carriage Shops at 1 E. Pleasant St.-not exactly downtown proper but definitely walkable-Loose Goose is primarily a coffee shop. Brightly lit, with black and white tile flooring, lots of space between tables and decorative murals adorning the walls, the Goose is a welcoming eatery-cum-hangout. And its student-friendly attitude invites customers to sip their lattes as they read, enjoy the café's free WiFi, or just simply procrastinate for however long they please (with the exception of the lunch hours from 12-2 p.m.).
But we were not there to procrastinate (though that does remind us that we both have theses to attend to); we were there to eat.
Thanks to Dan's jazz expertise, we quickly realized that all the sandwiches were named after famous jazz artists: Billie Holiday, Thelonious Monk, etc. (Kudos to any reader who can identify the provenance of "the Redman.")
Despite the promise of chicken breast, Muenster cheese, avocado, spinach and roasted shallot mayo, Emily's "Miles" ($6.95) was nothing special. The chicken breast (though cold) was moist and the avocado ripe, but the sandwich tasted dry nevertheless. That said, the walnut wheat bread saved her from another disappointing choice (Emily's had a bad streak of late). Sweet like challah, nutty like 12-grain and fluffy like focaccia, it made Sarah, Nick and Dan wish they could have a do-over (customers choose their carbohydrates).
Which is not to say that Nick and Dan regretted their sandwich choices. Dan's "Fitzgerald" ($6.95) boasted chicken breast, tomatoes, green leaf lettuce, garlic and herbed goat cheese and chipotle aioli on focaccia bread. While he ordered the sandwich purely out of his love for goat cheese, he forgot all about it once he tasted the tangy aioli.
Nick had a similar experience with his "Herbie" ($6.75) sandwich, which hinges on how one feels about the cranberry-orange chutney. For his part, Nick thought the sweet chutney was a perfect complement to the bitter mesclun greens on the roasted turkey and sharp cheddar sandwich, whose herb-rich focaccia added still more flavor.
Although mayo was the only condiment on Sarah's "Blue Note" ($6.95) (surprising, as Sarah considers herself something of a condiment connoisseur), attention to detail was again key to this entry's success. The asiago cheese and the delicate spicing of the peppered turkey was akin to a new riff on an old standard, and the roasted red pepper infused the medley with unexpected but welcome sweetness.
The sandwiches all came with ridged potato chips and a pickle, touches that we appreciated. We appreciated, too, the large portions, and unanimously agreed that these sandwiches out-dueled those of the Black Sheep (though its famed Electile Dysfunction menu wins the name game).
Although we were full at the end of the meal, you can't compare Black Sheep and Loose Goose without at least sampling the dessert wares. Nick thought he detected a hint of peanut butter in his dense chocolate drop tart ($0.95), which evoked a muffin top with a chocolate fudge core. In any case, it sounds better than it tasted.
Similarly, Emily and Dan's brownies-Oreo and M&M (both $1.50), respectively-looked better than they tasted. Not chocolatey enough and on the dry side, they compared unfavorably to Black Sheep's sublime brownie (which, admittedly, is probably the best we've ever encountered).
Finally, Sarah's cold Sugar Jones cookies ($0.75 apiece) would have been better warm; the sugar cookie was soft and sweet with sugar crystals that crunched to add texture, but the double chocolate cookie was bland and dry.
All told, we prefer the Loose Goose's attitude and sandwiches to those of the Black Sheep. So take the sandwich, leave the cannoli (or brownie, as the case may be).