For a starving artist, nothin’ says lovin’ like an overstuffed sandwich at an underpriced joint. That’s Smarty Pants, home of monster neohomespun grills and melts, and lair of the Georgetown demimonde. Here amid the brick walls, cracked cement floors, motorcycle kitsch, and really loud music, the overworked and underpaid come for brunches, lunches, and dinners that elevate the humble sandwich to a new status entirely. Like the Gringa, in which succulent pork freshened with lime juice arrives piled on a mayo-slathered, toasted French roll with tomato and lettuce. Or the Lil’ Philly, featuring a grilled mess of roast beef, onions, and peppers, topped with melting swiss, piqued with horseradish, and heaped to heaven inside a toasted roll. Miraculously, the cole slaw and potato salad sides are both fresh and feisty. Even more miraculously, the whole basketful—enough for two regular appetites or one enormous one—costs only $8.50.