Sandwiches for World Peace

Posted in: Drivel, Food

Oh my god. The angels in my mouth are singing!

This midnight snack turned into the kind of culinary creation that if deployed could heal centuries-long national conflicts, bring about unbridled happiness to humanity, and maybe even prevent the Republicans stitching up the election again.

It started out innocently enough...

Some left over mini-baguette from a lovely lunch with Rossi, lightly toasted and generously buttered¹, layered with thinly sliced Irish cheddar, a polite but robust splash of Hellman's Extra Light Mayo, and a suitably prudent smattering of Belevin Chili Paste (salsa piccante!). An open sandwich, of course, you pleb. Finalized for consumption by 10s in the microwave: just enough to warm and soften the cheese, bring the bread back to heat, but not so much as to bring about hotspots or release excessive starch moisture, bubble or otherwise desecrate the holy turf of this marvellous creation. In all seriousness, the microwave is the secret weapon of home sandwich making.

Out-standing. The rights to this one have already been bought for millions.

But all that was merely a warm-up, a tip of the hat, a casual chink, a toast, if you will, for what was to follow.

With the hubris of imagining it possible to improve on Beethoven's Fifth, the olive bread was sliced and dropped by my trembling but certain hand into the toaster.

Out came the Creamy Stilton whose age predates the fridge itself, a wedge I'm reliably informed by one of the neighborhood elders that was once a piece of cheese from decades past. So, nothing but the best. A single Babybel cheese, sliced, was the only worthy complement. Thus, the multi-national holy "tre formaggi" was complete. I swear I could hear a chorus of Welsh choirboys in the middle distance.

The mayo was re-invited to the party. It gladly accepted and effortlessly mingled with the crowd with all the grace and panache one could reasonably expect from a product with only 6% fat, a light purple presentation design, and a penchant for 50s lounge jazz (what?? -Ed).

The chili condiment too was willing, providing the bite and balance to the creation's spectrum with its refined piquancy.

With all the likelihood of Elton John behaving at a celebrity gathering, out sprang the Sainsbury's Wholenut peanut butter. Gasps from the audience; surely this is the work of a sandwich savant? No, merely a brave and cocksure experimenter. The second half of the sandwich was respectfully anointed in Gale's Pure (set) Honey. Sixteen seconds in the nukilla oven and ....

Well, let's just say look outside, can you see a steady comet in the sky, and detect a distinct whiff of frankincense?

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¹Please tell me you don't use margarine...   Posted by Paul Makepeace at October 27, 2004 02:28 | TrackBack