Wicked Sammich is a quirky sandwich shop in the Junction, near other unique restaurants like French spot Roux and seafood specialist Honest Weight . Wicked Sammich also has a specialty, which is, of course, the humble sandwich. They serve creative made-to-order sandwiches as well as ready-made wraps, sammies, deli salads, and juices, pop and coffee.

Owner and chef Diane hails from Boston, which explains the shop's name: just picture it pronounced with a Boston accent. This city's influence along with Diane's Portuguese background are hinted at around the shop in ways large and small.

A huge American flag hangs from the ceiling, and the wallpaper is a blown-up map of Boston. The day we visit the cookies take their name from Marky Mark, "because they're nutty and sweet," says Diane.

It's the Piri-Piri Chicken Sandwich ($8.95) that tells the Portuguese part of the story. Chicken breast tenders are marinated in house then grilled. Piri-piri mayo is made in house too with cayenne and paprika, but it's not overwhelmingly spicy. This is topped with lettuce, tomato and red onion and served on a Portuguese roll.

We break it up with the New Age Tuna ($8.95), which for being a sort of deceptively healthy option is scrumptious if you're a tuna sandwich lover. It's a curry albacore tuna salad and the curry really takes it up a notch. There's golden delicious apple and raisins in the salad as well.

It's served on pumpernickel, and has the cheeky alternate moniker "Salem Fish Hunt." On top of everything else there's also creamy havarti on this sandwich. You can order it cold or hot, and it the cheese takes on a whole other dimension in a tuna melt. There's red onion and lettuce on this one as well.

The piece du resistance would have to be the Paul Revere ($10.98), another nod to Boston and so called because it's steak with an egg on it, "on horseback" in diner speak. This sandwich also comes stuffed with fries and slathered in house-made gravy. It comes from a Portuguese house dish called beef a casa. Every sandwich comes with a pickle wedge.

Photos by Hector Vasquez