After one particular jaunt, Sweeney returned home with a serious and specific craving stowed in his carry-on: a sandwich he'd tried, and loved, at his favorite Havana bar. He convinced Heinz Burdorf and Fred Joost, countermen at the
Town Hall Deli in neighboring South Orange, to engineer it from his memory: beef tongue, ham, Swiss, cole slaw, and Russian dressing, meticulously layered between three long slices of rye bread and cut into eight Mondrian-perfect squares. The sandwich, named for the watering hole of its supposed conception, caught on in the area, and people took to subbing various deli meats, like roast beef, turkey, or pastrami, in and out of their orders.
