White House Sub Shop

2301 Arctic Ave
Atlantic City, NJ 08401

(609) 345-8599


After a night on the town in AC, ending up better than expected (thank you craps table), I was ready for a few things. An iced coffee (eh Starbucks), some beach time (eh Atlantic City beaches), and a huge hoagie. Enter White House subs. I had never been to White House, but I had been to Sack O' Subs, so I knew what to expect. Except the line.


When we got there around 12:30pm on a Sunday (they close at 2), there was a line out the door. Well, I say out the door, but it was mostly into a tiny glass foyer, and continuing all the way the length of the restaurant. It is chaos. You have to sneak past people (which is no easy task considering the average circumference of the kind of people giant hoagies draw) and then snake your way to the very end of the restaurant in order to get a ticket like at the deli counter of your local grocery store. We noticed that the ticket we pulled was for number seventy, while the ticker just to place the order was at thirty. Disheartening. Mind you, this is just to get an order to go. Much to the dismay of my companions, my journalistic integrity (and the fact that I may never go back to Atlantic City with casinos opening in my back yard, not that I am much of a gambler anyway) required waiting it out to try these subs I have heard so much about. We asked the really, really old lady working the door what the best course of action was, and she suggested we just wait in the line for a seat, as it will be faster. Done and done.



This, of course, required us to stand in aforementioned foyer with some of the most obnoxious, ignorant people South Jersey/Philadelphia has to offer. Which is really, really saying something, and I stand behind my statement. One older woman with her two, twenty something companions felt the need to use the speaker phone option on her phone to hold a fifteen minute vulgarity riddled conversation at high volume, with what I am assuming were her offspring chiming in. This was only one example of the quality individuals with which you had to wait packed in like sardines. Keep in mind this enclosed area is the only place to wait for a table, is hot, and you are constantly bombarded with people pushing past you, all the while having to explain this is the line to sit down, the line to get to-go is inside. Literally had to say this fifty times, luckily some of the other people who were waiting also picked up on this and informed the hordes which line they wanted. One of the worst systems I have ever seen at any food place. Luckily it only took us slightly over an hour to get a table. Seriously? Justice was served when the people pushing past us to get in were still waiting to PLACE an order. The ticker was on sixty five when we sat down.


One large (2 person) Italian and one large cheesteak hoagie were ordered. Although we were now sitting in a booth, the crowd of people was swelling too close for comfort. Not to mention the little girl who was apparently searching for long lost sand in her rear bathing suit bottoms, and then touching everything around while her Mom looked on with glassed over eyes of defeat. Why did she have to keep touching the edge of our table, and how many others had come before her. At this point, it was more of a joke, and we had been so hungry that it had almost we no longer were starving, just slightly nauseous, and very claustrophobic. Below is the Italian with everything. The meat is rolled up and packed in there, but its nothing too special. The pepper spread is good, but I have had much better (within the last 24 hours for example). I would wait about five minutes for this sandwich. Actually, next time, I would just go to Sack O' Subs for the EXACT SAME sandwich without mental anguish that White House proudly serves up.


Cheesesteak submarine (hoagie) below. It was fine. An amazing sandwich if you are from somewhere that doesn't have one of if not the highest per capita ratio's of awesome sandwiches in the world, perhaps, but I was hardly impressed. The entire experience was just too much, and I felt snookered like I wish all of the sad saps eating at the big two steak places in South Philly did. Though I feel that they probably love standing in line and dealing with a bunch of crap for mediocrity, because there is always a line there too.




This is a whole sandwich, really more of two sandwiches, but they call it a whole.