When it's cold outside, my brain freezes. I have no idea where I was when I ate this sandwich. I didn't even go for the sandwich; I went for the coffee. I couldn't feel my fingers through the fur-lined gloves I was wearing. My friend and I decided to stop for some food along the way.
Appropriately, this sandwich is called "The New Yorker". It has bacon AND chicken! And Russian sauce to give it some zing. The White Chocolate Mocha saved my fingers. All is well.