Turns out, I'd been missing the best sandwiches in Seattle and I didn't even know it. Turns out, about half of Seattle doesn't know about it either.

Why? There's absolutely no sign and regulars like it that way.

Paseo Carribean—or simply Paseo, as it is known to many — is something of an underground sensation in the Fremont neighborhood. Located in a tiny industrial space several blocks off Northeast 45th Street, the establishment is essentially a takeout joint with a crammed joke of a lobby. Night after night, local yuppies and aspiring yuppies alike pour into the restaurant's entry, all hoping for one thing: the perfect Cuban sandwich.

Turns out, the perfect Cuban sandwich is so good, it's usually sold out by 7:00 p.m.

I'm not going to lie — it may be one of the greatest pieces of bread-meat-bread artistry I've ever encountered, but it took me two separate attempts to even access the majesty.

On my final attempt, however, I struck gold. It was 6:30 p.m. on a Wednesday night, I was wedged against a throng of BMW owners, post-yoga workouts and leather jackets that were worth more than my rent, but it was clear: This time, despite my lack of a 401K, I was getting a sandwich.

And if I was getting a sandwich, I was definitely getting the Midnight Cuban Press ($7.50). My partner ordered a Cuban Roast ($6.50) and we split a side of rice and beans ($3.00).

Despite the near riotous conditions of Paseo, our wait was relatively short and though we had ordered takeout, thinking we'd use the hood of a local Z3 as picnic spot, we were able to snag a table from what looked like a software designer and his orange-tanned wife.

While the taste of victory was sweet, the sandwiches were even sweeter.

Upon unwrapping the Midnight Cuban Press, I found it almost a foot long and cradled by a dense, chewy baguette. Between those slices of French-carbohydrate bliss lay large medallion-sized caramelized onions, delicate, well-spiced pulled pork, proscuitto-thin slices of ham, perfectly melted Swiss cheese and subtly spicy aioli sauce.

My partner's Cuban Roast was equally alluring, though substantially spicier, with the substitution of jalapeño peppers, more scrumptious pulled pork and more soft, caramelized onions for my ham and Swiss cheese.

By the time we got the rice and beans, tears of ecstasy, and perhaps over-satiation, rolled down our faces and our hands were covered in a thick layer of greasy onion aioli sauce. The rice was soft and buttery with a hint of coconut, which created a wonderful counterpoint to the spicy black beans. Thank God for our plentiful supply of takeout napkins.

Lessons learned: Head straight from happy hour to Paseo, get there early, buy enough sandwiches to last you the rest of the week (they heat up marvelously the next day) and beat the local yuppies at their own game. g