Sandwich reeducation project

I’m biased. I don’t love sandwiches. I’d rather have a burrito. There, I said it.

To be more accurate, I have been quoted as saying, “I hate sandwiches.” Odd, for such a bread lover, no? (And a lover a sandwich lover.)

Actually, I don’t hate them; I just have high standards. I want to like them. Heck, I want to be thrilled by them. But more often then not, they disappoint. I do not share the joy that many proclaim when faced with a tray of cold cuts. By no means are they a destination food for me.

Maybe it’s because I’m mildly vegetarian, or vege-aquarian. As one who shuns meat, I resent the lackluster cheese-only options from delis or catering’s limp roasted eggplant/zucchini/pepper. Sprouts do not have to be doomed to a dull existence. And, if they aren’t in season, don’t bother talking to me about tomatoes. Mayo may make it better, but I crave considered, interesting flavors. Give me contrast or give me death. My bread is better with some good butter or a single cheese.

In my defense, I concede there are a couple of sandwich-esque places that I have enjoyed. Tops being Bar Tartine, progeny of my bread bakery deity, Chad Robertson, but with a Hungarian flare. In the food truck world, if I’m forced to, I’ll take a Wingless (shiittake mushroom, avocado wasabi Asian slaw and a fried egg) or a Kraken (lemon pepper & garlic fried soft shell crab, sriracha, ginger, Asian slaw, hold the bacon, sure, I’d love a fried egg) from Adam’s Grub Truck. Both of these bread slingers pack a whole lot of flavor into every mouthful of their saucy creations. No boring bites allowed.

In light of this, a co-worker took it upon herself to make me a sandwich today. She’s a sandwich devotee. They bring her life such joy. In fact, her New Year’s Day sandwich dictates how her entire year will go. She’s kept this tradition going since middle school. Such a true believer, so I decided to give it a go. I brought in bread and she did the rest.

It was a simple affair. Hummus, carrot ribbons and a cute cuke. Basic deli cheese, but two kinds. A solid Dijon mustard. It wasn’t bad. (I admit I was tickled by the non-traditional carrot presentation.) Taking time away from my desk and chatting with her and a friend made it taste even better. I wasn’t disappointed.

Am I sold? Not yet, but I will accept a monthly sandwiching if she’s up for it. Why not have our own year-long tradition? I’ll play around with different bread options and we can go from there. It’s a welcome break from my daily lentils (but that’s another post).

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