Perhaps most corporate-sandwich shops in Lakeview work if you're a moose; however, for the grizzly bear in all of us, you'll forgo those shops' grass subs for a more fulfilling Hungry Cubbie one - without all of the extra lettuce. Comical cousins, Kel and Moe, own the shop tucked below the L's Clark junction, making every sandwich, "So you're guaranteed a good one," Kel says.

The twosome 22-year-olds grew tired of door-to-door sales, package delivering and helping relatives run liquor and convenient stores. For Moe, Hungry Cubbie became a wish granted; he projected in the third grade he'd someday have his own sandwich shop. Kel initially dreamed of becoming a lawyer, "till I saw all the books I had to read," he jokes. Once you sample his most-recommended Tuscan turkey on a pillowy ciabatta roll, you'll be glad he forwent law.

Don't let the scores of Vienna logos dupe you: Hungry Cubbie operates more so as a deli/sandwich shop versus a dog stand. Furthermore, avoid letting laminated photocopies of plasticized-looking sandwiches hanging on red, white and blue walls dissuade you; a digital frame, soon to come, will showcase Italian beefs, gyros, panini sandwiches and Chicago-style hot dogs truer-to-form.

Aside from proud owners constructing original sandwiches, late-night hours sets this stand's paw prints apart from its competitors, making it renowned with the bar crowd. During these hours, house and hip-hop blares in a small room held up by copper tiling and lit with track lights. A flat screen suggests a stay-beyond-your-meal vibe not resounded with a lack of wi-fi. Overall, it's an eat-and-go spot. But before you go, cool off with a cup of strawberry-banana Italian ice, $1.99. An average meal is right around five bucks.

Centerstage Reviewer: David-Anthony Gonzalez