The e-mail made Munch sit up straight, even in his ergonomically woeful desk chair: a dispatch from Estranged Friend of Munch (ESFOM).
Munch studied the information cautiously, thumbed the fedora atop his bagged brow with deliberation and warily considered the source.
Time was, you see, when Munch and ESFOM ran thick as thieves, a regular Bonnie and Clyde or Han Solo and Princess Leia or, better yet -- Ron Burgundy and Veronica Corningstone. These days, though, it's been all Spencer and Lauren. OMG.
But the message was concise: The dame told me I needed to hit the sauce.

Munch said: "Darlin' -- no chance. I've been off the stuff since ... my last review."
She clarified: "No, you boob. Not 'the sauce.' Sauce! That's what the joint is called. It's in Bridgeville. Check it out."
You can't be too careful. Especially if Munch was going to leave the asphalt jungle for -- gasp! -- the suburbs.
Was this a grift? Phony intel? Was she a double agent for Chowhound, working a Plame-ian angle like Karl Rove?
Munch grabbed trusty sidekick and boy wonder, Roommate of Munch (ROM), to investigate. Upon arrival, Munch had an instant sense of deja vu in this speakeasy. The long wooden bar counter and the cozy U-shaped booths. In another life, the place was the Bridgeville Diner until it was funkified and re-christened Sauce in March.
Sauce dabbles in classic comfort food with a bit of flair. To wit: the Grilled Cheese Nouvelle ($7), served on garlic herbed flat bread with a sundried tomato mayonnaise and a cup of soup; Ham and Cheese ($8), which is stacked Black Forest ham and aged cheddar on a crisp pretzel roll served with honey mustard dipping sauce; and the Chicken Skillet ($11), a pot pie-ish creation of chicken in a creamy white wine sauce with carrots and peas, topped with flaky pie crust.
But the worth-the-drive items here are the burgers and chicken sandwiches (all $8). Combinations such as House-Fired Salsa and Creamy Jack Cheese; Crispy Red Onion Balsamic and Creamy Bleu Cheese with Peppered Bacon; Wild Mushroom and Bourbon with Aged Swiss ... well, you know you're in for something different.
ROM picked and subsequently raved about the Hamburger with Pancetta Bacon and Creamy Gorgonzola with Sun-dried Tomato Mayonnaise. Munch had similar sentiments for the Cast Iron Signature Skillet Burger. Served naked (no buns), topped with roasted peppers, balsamic glaze, crispy onions and buffalo mozzarella, and served in a cast-iron skillet (another nice Sauce touch)
The sandwiches come with choice of side: homestyle baked butter beans, mac and cheese, coleslaw, fresh-cut sweet potato (or regular) fries, or homemade red skin potato salad.
Munch, a known connoisseur of mac and cheese the world over, thinks Sauce's could be a main entree (hint, hint), for it is pure creamy deliciousness served on a skillet.
That ROM and Munch barely finished their burgers and sides was no reflection on the quality -- they were top shelf -- but rather because they had already gorged on apps: ROM, the Bourbon Street Wings ($7 and "melt in your mouth" as he put it) and Munch, the homemade chili ($5). Served in a fried tortilla bowl with aged cheddar, sour cream and crisped tobacco onions, this had a perfect mix of heat and flavor, and -- bonus! -- you can eat the bowl.
Sauce's service was spunky, though slightly lackadaisical at times. The beer list left a bit to be desired and it's all bottles -- no taps here -- but those complaints are minimal, considering the extremely reasonable prices.
Munch and ROM didn't even get to sample the dessert menu: Baked Apple Crisp, Triple Berry Cobbler (both $5) and made-to-order chocolate chip cookies ($4).
Cue Homer Simpson gurgling sound.
Sauce is also open for breakfast and you can rest assured the logistics of a return visit are already being calculated by the inhabitants of Chez Munch, simply on the promise of the following items: the Biscuits and Sausage Gravy Skillet ($6); the Breakfast Pizza ($5), made of fire-roasted salsa, scrambled eggs and cheddar cheese baked on a pizza crust; and wild berry, apple pecan, chocolate chip or traditional buttermilk pancakes ($5).
Cue it again.
ESFOM didn't lead Munch astray, and Munch in turn will offer you the same advice: Hit the "Sauce."