By Andrew Berlanstein

Most students on campus know of only one reliable sandwich shop: Chicken Lou’s. But for the many who’ve made the move off-campus, or for those who prowl the hungry streets of Mission Hill, where is there to stop for a sub?

I was appalled at the lack of local sandwich shops during my freshman year, and I was underwhelmed by the number of pizzarias serving the same Italian subs on the same low-grade “European style” bread.

Now, after three years and some intense investigation, my search for a decent deli has shown prospect. Such a place exists in Boston. At 1508 Tremont St., in the middle of Mission Hill, there’s WAN Convenience.

WAN seems like a typical bodega. Empty freezers rumble next to dusty shelves lined with a low inventory of Goya products. Graffiti covers the walls in back of the store. Lottery tickets and cigarettes are kept behind inch-thick Plexiglas. But you’d rarely find WAN’s sole employee, Al Niles, behind that Plexiglas. Niles spends most of his day in the front corner of the store, a tiny space he has deemed his deli. From open to close, Niles is making sandwiches.

It’s common to see small piles of $1 bills and quarters left on the deli counter that accumulate when Niles is too busy to ring up people who are only buying drinks. Surprisingly, it’s not the number of orders that keeps Niles so busy; rather, it’s the dedication and time that he puts into each sandwich. It can take up to 20 minutes for Niles to create one of his masterpieces of delicatessen, causing a constant sandwich queue. Don’t confuse the virtuosity for dalliance: the wait is worth it.

With most subs starting at $4 – the most expensive listed is $6. Niles packs the money’s worth of meat, at least a half pound, into every sandwich he makes. He uses 12-inch daily-baked French baguettes for every sub. Items like tuna salad are mixed from scratch as you wait. And, if you can wait a little longer, Niles will grill your sandwich for a crispier crust.

Niles’ most popular sandwich is his hot pastrami. It’s so celebrated that he keeps four times as much pastrami than any other meat in his deli, he said.

With any sandwich, you can choose the toppings – from homemade dressings made with imported olive oil, to fine cheese and bacon. But if you’re not picky, ask for your sandwich “Al’s way.” You might not know exactly what you’re getting, but you can usually count on an amazing combination of sauces and seasonings, all toasted with melted cheeses.

And make sure to spark up a conversation with Niles and ask about items not listed on the wall. There is a little-known extended menu, which includes Niles’ most original and tongue-tingling temptations like the Jerry Springer (Genoa salami, turkey, Al’s secret seasonings and dressing) or The Hero (stuffed with salami, roast beef, corned beef and ham.)

Niles has been perfecting his methods since he was 14 years old, when he first started cooking. He grew up with his family in the Caribbean before moving to Boston. He has been here now for 15 years, but the WAN has only been around for about four. In his first two years, business was slow. Niles thought it a good idea to bring a New York style deli to his store. Before long, sales were up.

Students living on Mission Hill began to frequent WAN, and now a handful make up the most regular customers. These regulars seem to have such a strong bond with Niles that their privileges surpass expectations. For example, junior English major AJ Purwin hopped behind the register to swipe my credit card while Niles was swamped with sandwich making.

“It’s a place that feels like home in a city where most of us are outsiders and no, I don’t work here,” Purwin said.

The sandwiches are top notch, but it is Niles’ personality and the humble atmosphere, which Niles has created, that makes WAN so special. If there is one thing to be learned from a trip to WAN, it’s that everything’s better Al’s way.