GLORIOUS SANDWICHES HAS MOVED. PLEASE FOLLOW AT GLORIOUSSANDWICHES.COM
Why does this happen to so many of us? And why am I so prone to fall into this feedback loop of decreasing impetus? I've always found inspiration, and interest to be the strongest motivating forces, so when I find myself wading into the oblivion of blurred together days, I don't wonder too much, "Why the lack of momentum?"
How to balance this though? I feel so much pressure here to be doing, making, earning. It can get very overwhelming, and the artistic overachievers all around me don't seem to help. Toronto is such an ambitious place. It's no New York or London, but it's stressful to find yourself not doing much of anything. Excuse me while I reminisce again about my time in France.
So you know when it's a Sunday, and you're not in a particular rush to eat, but when you do, you want it to be ALL OF THE THINGS!!!!!!(?) Well this is the ultimate glutton brunch sandwich, like, legit. Double decker smoked salmon, cream cheese, egg benedict, ON FRENCH TOAST. For those Sundays you wake up with a negligible hangover, but a total aversion to leaving your house and seeing any more damn people this weekend, well at least until you've had a good alone-time date with this food mountain. The philosophy behind it: foods that you love, and would happily eat on their own; throw them together. Then eat it in your underwear while reviewing
tinder instagram shenanigans from Saturday night and definitely not wondering if you're going to be alone forever food will always be your one true love. The answer is yes, so make it count.
Oh man, so I've been thinking about moving to Montreal for ages. Like, years. It's been hanging over my head for so long, especially every time I have to move apartments, and I have to move apartments in 6 weeks. It's not my dream city, but Montreal has a lot going for it. The atmosphere is so much more relaxed, and the apartments are so big, and sunny, and half the price they would be in Toronto. The music scene is definitely decent. I could live in Mile End, and walk up the mountain every week. I could buy wine at the corner store until 11!!! (Toronto peeps, you know how it is). But the main reason is something I learned a few years ago, when I relocated actually way further than a $30 Megabus away, and that is; always keep moving. Every time I make a mental pro and cons list for moving to Montreal, the pro list trumps the con list, no contest. It's not even that I like it better than Toronto, 'cause I don't, but I strongly believe there's more to be gained in being somewhere new, than you could ever lose from the experience. Almost no hardship I could imagine of building a new life somewhere wouldn't be overshadowed with the inherent reward therein. And so, I feel pretty sure I should just fucking do it already, before it becomes something I just talk about, and never do. But for some reason, I don't feel very brave about it at the moment.
So I think we can all agree breakfast is the best meal of the day. At least up until that point in the day. And it's becoming pretty clear from this blog I have a predilection for breakfast sandwiches. Just think about it, you finally peel yourself out of bed, hazy, and stiff, and having to face the world, and get shit done? Well, I need a little more convincing than that. So first thing I do, tends to be putting on some tea or coffee, and getting to work giving myself a real reason to be awake, and for me, that is food.
Happy Sunday everyone. It's summer, it's the weekend, and it necessarily follows that TACOS. Yea. I used to think there was a giant lack of tacos in Toronto. I mean, they're probably not as ubiquitous as in uhh... American North American cities (big duh @Mexico), but lately, they've been popping up everywhere. Our new influx of food trucks, and like 5 dedicated specialty taco joints in Parkdale alone, those Korean-taco fusion wine bars, in addition to all the authentically Mexican restaurants in the Market, and Bloordale, not to mention backyards, rooftop patios, balcony barbecues, tacos are taking over! They're taking over my heart. And rightly so, I think they've officially charmed their way into my food philosophy as one of the most perfect foods in existence. Hell, on rooftop taco hangouts round two, I made sincere claims I would ditch this sandwich ship, and run a taco blog instead. Like sandwiches, they have pretty much an infinitesimal possibility of manifestation, which is to say you can put like, whateeeeever you want in them, until the end of time, and never run out of amazing ideas, and they're a heckavalot easier to assemble. Just harder to eat, I suppose. But I dare you to eat a plate of tacos, and not be smiling after. I fucking dare you.
To quote a taco enthusiast friend, "My life is dope, I do dope shit." The only attitude that matters when there are tacos in front of you.
So here's a classic taco-inspired sandwich. I totally just ran out to get some nice tortillas, 'cause that's what I'll be doing with the rest of my Sunday.
Life is rosy folks. (Is how I started off this post when I began the draft TWO MONTHS AGO. Following is a more whiny post of how I'm feeling currently.) But I think it's apt that I made such a rosy sandwich for a post about being in such a crummy mood, 'cause it's sort of cheering me up just to look at it.
What do you do when you have the travel bug, but no real freedom or funds? No, seriously, I'm asking. I'm going a little crazy in my tiny, stiflingly hot sublet in The Junction, save for this one coffee shop I've found that I pretty much want to live at, and should start doing all my computer "work" from. I've been thinking a lot for the past two years, but more specifically since my last move, about moving out of Toronto again, and I think a lot of those could be solved by as little as a two week stint somewhere else. Really, I'm not asking for much. just to get away, and maybe be reminded that Toronto, my first real love, is a place where I really want to be. Having lived in other places, with plenty of new amazing things about them that Toronto doesn't have, I couldn't get Toronto out of my mind. I would talk about it constantly, like an ex you're still hopelessly not over. I missed the music scene. I missed the food and coffee scene. I missed the creativity, and passion, and individualism that goes into every storefront here. Europe totally doesn't have that, save for in small, excepted pockets. So I'm in this constant dilemma of wanting to leave, and in a way being totally ungrateful for what an idyllic place this is, and thinking I really should just use my powers to change my life here, and make it look like how I want, rather than try to jump ship and build one again somewhere else. How do you know when it's time to let go, or time to (wo)man up? I guess the real answer is it's always time to (wo)man up. Just someone get me outta here for a few weeks or something, k?
It's basically like my favourite week of the year here in Toronto. No, it's not Christmas/NYE, or my birthday. It's NXNE (North by North East). It's like a prolonged Wednesday-Sunday weekend of running around the city (read west end), going to an obscene amount of shows, as if for sport. There are awesome shows going on in all the dozen of usual venues, and like 30 others I don't go to, free concerts at Yonge + Dundas square, so many bands, free in-stores at record shops, and lots of official/unofficial events like the Toronto Island Vice takeover, or the many years running Great Heart Festival, which is pretty much a big park concert where bands do semi-acoustic arrangements of their songs, and it gets filmed and put online for everyone to relive the greatest time of year all year round.
North 'By', as it's generally called is always an amazing time, some unforgettable sets, but a general blur of a weekend, what with the constantly jetting off to see another band somewhere, and continually evaluating whether you're too day-drunk to bike. It's something my friends and I highly anticipate, some of us months in advance, but come festival Sunday, no one wants to do anything but shovel BBQ and tacos into our mouths. The crowds at Sunday shows can be pretty sparse.
Anyway, this year I was pretty lazy and only went to like 2 shows a night, and none of the daytime parties or house shows. And I had a blast. Here's my NX Sunday sandwich special. If you're in Toronto and you've been "festive", you know this is what will keep you going, just one more night folks!
So I just worked this music festival in Toronto this weekend, Field Trip music fest
So, basically every day for the past year, I wake up, eat one of 3 rotating breakfast options, later I eat a salad, and by the end of the day, I'll probably have eaten a same-ish version of a vegan, viet-style soup. I didn't used to be like this! I used to make the same thing no more than 3 times. Then onto the next idea. My eating has become so routine, that even the things I do to break the routine, like occasionally making sandwiches for blog purposes, and eating things like, *gasp* bacon, have become routine. So I went into my local deli/sandwich supply magical happy house, determined to try something new. They make these really nice sounding apple and sage sausages ('cause who really thinks sausages look all that appetizing), and this weirdo mushroom pâté that just sort of spoke to me. It was nonchalantly crying out "why not?" And then I went out and bought fennel. Because honestly, fennel kind of scares me, as my only encounter with it had been one time using someone's strongly fennel flavoured toothpaste in the morning without realizing I was not to be expecting mint. Anyway, there's really nothing better in life, in general, than breaking routines, exploring, and finding out there are all these other things you can add to your life that you can enjoy, along with all the things you already have to do so. Which I guess is really the point of this blog. Yay for more things in life that are nice. Especially when they are things that you can eat!!!
I got 99 problems... and I'm trying to mask each one with a layer of this sandwich. And I think I'm like 96 layers short.
Seriously though. Yesterday, I confessed to my new roommate that I've been pilfering his peanut butter, so the next jar was on me. His response? "That's ok, I'm post-food. I'm doing Soylent now." Like WTF? This, coming from the guy who makes his own kimchi. I know he's probly not serious about doing it longterm, but you literally couldn't pay me to not eat, and enjoy food. Sometimes, that's all I have.
"But what if it was cheap, fast, and you never had to worry about nutrition again?"
"Well, I can tell you, nutrition is barely in the top 5 reasons of why I cook food."
"Well what if you knew you could end world hunger, but it only worked if everyone was on Soylent?"
"Well. Well... well, I guess I'd probably be one of those assholes with a front lawn farm, and trading butter on the black market."
So I went to a rave last weekend, and as it turns out, I LOVE RAVES. Which is what I texted to at least 5 people still half in a stupor then next day. At first, when my roommate invited me, I was like "What am I going to do at a rave?" I hate repetitive electronic music, and I don't do M. But I'm usually down for something new, especially on a Sunday night of a long weekend, with no good shows on. As it turns out, I've been to several raves, while in Berlin. I don't know why I was expecting any more nonsense than some floodlights in an empty factory unit. I don't even remember what the music sounded like, I just know that I got in, my brain shut off, and I danced. And may or may not have danced with a super babely dude who actually gave me the idea for this sandwich many weeks ago, while comparing hangover breakfasts of the day. All in all, I learned something about myself, which is that my life could use more raves, and defo more harmless makeouts. They're like, at least as good as elaborate breakfasts sandwiches. Was definitely buzzing from all of it all day. YAY RAVES.
GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH MONTH POST #7
Let's all pretend it's still April, April being grilled cheese month. I actually made this sandwich, along with the last 10, and next 10 posts like WEEKS ago now, but hey, it's not like this is my day job. Looking for housing in this zero decent vacancy city kind of became my day job for a while. I'm finally out of my money haemorrhaging loft. I already miss that big space, those windows, the ceiling height you find no where else in Toronto, but hey, it's also not fun to watch your friends hopping on planes, and travelling, when you're like, "COOL, I'm gonna hold down the fort here... in my expensive-ass apartment, in this expensive-ass city, close to nowhere else good, and sacrificing food explora$ion for floor$pace. But you know it's time to move when you can buy a house in Detroit for less than your monthly rent. I'm way further west in town now, in a kind of perfectly shabby house, good enough to stay a while, but definitely giving me pangs to move. Far away. But it's also kind of great, because I feel like I'm in a totally new land. Quieter, cheaper, I don't know a single bar around here, and everything closes at fucking 9. It's almost like being back in France. Almost...
GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH MONTH POST #6
HEY GUYS. Fuck, as usual, I have like 10 entries all photographed and ready to be posted, but I got mega behind on writing... because I hate writing... and also, this 10 week and counting housing search continues! It's so distracting, it's like having a second job! Or in my case, a job. J/k prospective landlords, I am self employed, and I make an income, it just can feel like I do nothing sometimes, because I am always at home, and usually avoiding working, or feeling like I'm not working enough. Shit, I watch too many foreign affairs journalism shorts. Maybe that's why I'm in a constant existential crisis. I need more doughnut and cake blogs in my life or something. ANYWAY, so me and my future roommate have been really picky, and it's like it's impossible to find a decent 2-3 bedroom in this city for less than like $900/room. Because we've been looking for so long, and I really have to move out of my glorious loft this week, we actually found this incredibly cheap and awesome sublet, which will hopefully be home for the next few months, maybe even the whole summer. Look out for a new backsplash, and some really awesome sandwich collabs with the new roommie. And you'll see how behind I am by counting how many entries it takes for the backsplash to change...
GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH MONTH POST #5
Hey, remember when you're 5, and your days are about watching cartoons, and painting, wearing a plastic smock, while listening to Quarks and Quarks on Saturday afternoons? And a special occasion is when your parents make tuna salad sandwiches? My life is pretty entertaining, but sometimes I find myself thinking... those were the days.
GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH MONTH POST #4
This is another delicious food collab with the amazing human being Reiss Reid.
Sometimes, I really take for granted how region-specific your daily food options can be. I mean, Toronto is the most multicultural city in the world, with over half of its residents born outside Canada, and yes, that translates to an unending list of options of culturally in tact, authentic foods from all over the planet. Toronto really does have one of the best food cultures I've ever seen, in person, or on tv. But why does Toronto have like 10 kraft poutine places, and a giant lack of taco trucks?? No matter. The point is more so about what you can get here, and not elsewhere. Like, who knew, the proud Québec import, poutine (fries, gravy, cheese curds), should actually be a big deal? It is kind of like putting the 3 shittest foods together, something I stand by saying, you really have no business eating unless you're super drunk. But omg, when it's 3 am, and you are super drunk with your new instabestie from the UK, and you find out he's never eaten pouting, OR A GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH, you fucking get on that shit. So yea, you better fucking bet we went for some 3 am sweet potato fry poutine, and then dreamt up this vegetarian mushroom gravy poutine grilled cheese.
GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH MONTH POST #3
HAPPY INTERNATIONAL GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH DAY, APRIL 12th!
I'm gonna take a minute to talk about my hilariously(pitiably) stunted maturity, and my total inability to be in a relationship. And if you don't see what that has to do with sandwiches, just think about what kind of person would have a blog dedicated to their undying love of sandwiches. It's been an on-off relationship that runs longer than any I've had, romantically speaking, with like, a boy-person. I always joke around that I don't really date people, but I will make exceptions when I have to. Sandwiches are simple. People are so... ugh. Dating is complicated.
I haven't really dated anyone in a really long time, and the latest was like, a personal record in how fast it died. We weren't even technically dating, if anyone can illuminate the rest of us on what that word actually means, but you know when you're not really dating someone, but then you're definitely not dating them, because it just kind of disintegrates into no more texting? It's not like it was going anywhere, but I will say, if you laugh at my humour, and when I try to cram my fist in your mouth for no reason, you're probably someone I want to continue hanging out with more. Also, great spooner. But I should have known to just cut it loose when I asked him what his sandwich request would be, and he said avocado and brie.
GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH MONTH POST #2
Ok, so I've never been to Alsace. But Official International Grilled Cheese Sandwich month continues with this this awesome sandwich, what I consider to be the perfect blend of my acquired French and German food influences. I had never been the biggest pork fan, but when you're broke, and sort of living in a squat, and maybe cooking off a hot plate... you get resourceful with what you've got, and I definitely believe that I can enjoy pretty much any food, in the right context. Wait, what? Yes, it was an INTERESTING time in my life, ok? Actually, probably the best, and it reminds me of a great quote I saw on Humans of New York recently:
"I think I’m happiest when I’m broke.""Why’s that?""Because I can always find a good meal. But when I’m broke, I can’t afford to do the things I shouldn’t be doing."
GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH MONTH POST #1
PICKLES! Pickles, pickles, pickles! I've never been a pickle person, I so I knew I had to dive face-first, and make a pickle sandwich. So I went to my local sandwich fixin'z spot The Hogtown Cure, a little naive, but willing, and wanting for pickles. The owner is this really super nice guy who always says hi, and asks you how your day is going, and you can tell he's always just trying to keep a lid on his passion for the meats and cheeses he curates, and all the top shelf canned products on hand. The enthusiasm is right at the surface, and he jumps at the chance to let it out. Well, I'm always all ears, and this time, I guess I asked too many questions, because after about 5 minutes of pickle talk, an order of "one sandwich worth of your bacon," and then some other impulse purchases, he turns to me and says, well, anyway, the point is my cover is blown. I don't know why I like the anonymity so much. I'm a pretty fucking chatty person, but I also kind of like the sandwich thing to be some sort of a secret. I guess I've been rethinking the nameless, faceless nature of this blog this year anyway. And trying lots of other new things. Like pickles.
You know what's the fucking best? When you wake up on a Sunday with no hangover, catch up on some recent Bill Maher episodes, and then realize that @SandwichLovers regrammed another one of your sandwiches(my sandwiches)! Buddy has like 10K+ followers, and is hyping ME. Little lowly, "Hey you, aren't you that girl who makes those sandwiches on my friend's Facebook feed?"
Well that would be amazing. And I'm pretty proud of this post. So I'm going to shamelessly ask that you share this blog with anyone whom you think might enjoy it. This blog is strictly a personal project that I do for my own satisfaction, but hearing feedback about how much some people dig it, and resonate with this niche interest of mine really makes me want to spread that joy around. If you know someone who could use an eyeful of sandwich, don't keep it to yourself. Help me get one step closer to sandwich blog infamy, so that I may one day fulfil my life aspiration of being the first sandwich blogger in space (yes, I know all about crumb-resistant space tortillas, and that Hadfield and Williams totally have me beat).
Anyway, happy Sunday. I'm putting photos of crispy bread and melty cheese on the internet. And apparently some people are into it. Life rules.
I'm really lucky to have such supportive parents. They believe in my dreams, and read my sandwich blog. They feed me nice food when I come visit, and always offer me wine with dinner, even though I just inhale my food, and end up with an empty second helping plate and a full glass. And, I would call this a parent sponsored/collaboration post, because my dad provided the brisket. He usually asks what I feel like having when I come over for dinner. Food is kind of my dad's way. It's that thing he can do for others to show them he cares. And he loves to cook. I guess I get that attitude from him. Anyway, my response this time, was selfishly "something I can take home leftovers of and use in a sandwich post." So it was a total blind request, and I ended up with this AMAZING brisket. It's really easy too. Step one: go to your parents' house when they're making brisket. Step two: take lots of it home. In all seriousness, he did make it from his own invention, and I forget what all is in it, but it's sweet, and tangy, and slow cooked to perfection. Matched with my own twist on 'slaw. On rye bread.
I love bananas, but I just can't, and don't ever eat them plain. There's always a better way. They're like toast. Never fewer than 3 things on 'em. Served on a plate. Sliced. There's usually a fork involved. I've just become really fucking particular about how I like things, and I'm wondering whether that makes me "difficult", but I'd rather think of it in terms of I put the extra effort into maximal enjoyment of my food/life. I don't own clothes I don't love. I don't go to shows I'm not into. I don't spend my time with people who aren't engaging. I don't eat my bananas plain. Here's some toast, and banana, meeting in this cheesy melt. No need for either of them to be lonely, there's lots of garnish to keep them in good company.
I love taking sandwich requests from friends. I invite them over, and get them to tell me what their DREAM sandwich would be. And then I end up with a cool sandwich that I probably wouldn't have come up with on my own, and a really satisfied friend. Eytan, this really cool dj/musician friend of mine asked for something involving a froached egg, and avocado. We riffed on it a bit, and ultimately came up with something that isn't this, and I am sheepishly admitting I didn't invite him over for this one, it's just kind of something that happened because I had the perfect mix of scrap leftovers. In fact, I don't even know if Eytan eats bacon. I'm sorry buddy! I WILL have you over for your dream sandwich.
Also, ps, sometimes you're all in regular life, and then something happens that jars you, and you realize the future is happening so fast, and this isn't the landline telephone, Hannah Barbara cartoon, 90s fashion world we grew up in. Except the 90s fashion. All my clothes are probably from the 90s. ANYWAY. Last time I saw Eytan, he said he really liked my Instagram feed, or rather, he thought I had a "really good Instagram feed." And I was all "HOLY new world compliment!" Like, that is now a legitimate compliment to give someone, and I thought it was so strange. Like that time I was on Skype, and said to somebody, "Oh sorry, I closed the window you were in." which is a sentence that would make no sense 10-15 years ago.
What was I talking about? Oh yea, sandwiches. Here's a sandwich post guys.
Sometimes I'm unimpressed with the sandwiches I post, or I spend an hour making a sandwich, and just never post it at all. Usually what goes wrong is it just gets overcomplicated, and loses focus. This post is all about simplicity, because appreciating food has very little to do with what goes into making it, it all comes down to whether it satisfies you. And I've been pretty good at applying that nugget of wisdom to life too lately. I don't overthink things too much, and the simple shit is really the best. Making new friends. Asking old friends how their day is going. Spending some time by yourself doing something that makes you happy.
This sandwich is named after Donatello, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. Pretty much because it's purple and green, and that's Donatello's colour. I used to fucking love the Ninja Turtles growing up in the late 80s, early 90s. I mean, who didn't? It was all action, all do-gooding, there was pizza. The pizza looked gross, but I mean, ass-kicking turtles, and a rat sansei? And a babe reporter in a tight yellow jumpsuit? Hello. Probably all my first crushes were on that show. I remember really digging Michaelangello, 'cause he was such a goofball shit-disturber, but not in the way Raphael was kind of just a hotheaded, violent jerk. I always revered Leonardo and Donatello for being the more useful seeming of the brother pack. Leonardo was a bit boring though, let's be honest. No one gravitates to the pristine hero. Donatello was interesting because he seemed like he had the most going for him, without needing the charisma of the other brothers. He was the brains of the outfit, the most intellectually inclined. Always saving the day by figuring shit out, and by way of invention. Totally my style. If there was one TMNT I'd like to think of myself as, it would be him, and according to a highly reliable internet quiz, Donatello is my turtle identity. Anyway, this post is arguably vegan. COWABUNGA DUDES!
Hey guys, I know your eyes must be starving, as I haven't posted in over a week! I photographed this one ages ago, so I'm happy to finally be getting it to you. This one was a goodie. It's a dreamy, sweet, spicy, and creamy mix of mostly new things for the blog. Hey, #lyfeparallels.
I guess I've been pretty distracted. I'm sad to say I'm moving out of my dream loft, and though I don't yet know where I'll be moving, it'll be somewhere nice, with a(some) great roommate(s), and it will be so nice to be constantly surrounded by creatives, and probably a lot of new food inspiration. Hopefully, there will be lots more collaborations in the future for Glorious Sandwiches. Maybe I'll even have a garden to grown some plant-based sandwich fixin's. Ps, I LOVE looking for housing in Toronto. It's not difficult, or really expensive, or discouraging. No, not at all.
I can't eat gluten. It's a bummer, but honestly, I'm over it. I rarely miss it, or think about it these days. I'm really happy with what I eat, though it is sometimes hard to pick a restaurant, but in Toronto, not really. The major bummer for me is beer, because there are countless amazing kraft breweries around Toronto, whose beer I would love to be enjoying. The other major downside, is I feel like there's a big lack of bread diversity on this blog now! I used to love featuring different types of bread. My dad's poppyseed and onion sourdough, a nice rye bun, an eggy challah, fucking BAGELS. I never really got around to croissants while I had the chance.
Anyway, I find I'm at my most creative when I'm just working out of necessity. I'm out of bread, and I want to make a post, so I decided to just get resourceful. Here's my take on something that still totally counts as a "sandwich". But the name is a reference to how to me, these ingredients suggest more a deconstructed soup than anything.
In case you didn't know, a ham and cheese is pretty much France's official sandwich. You can get it anywhere, and you can order it by it's given name, the croque-monsieur. A croque-madame is a croque-monsieur with an egg on top, and you know both are a cultural staple, because French Ikeas don't serve Swedish meatballs, but they DO serve both mr + mrs croques! This is a croque-meuf, which is a way hipper version of either, because «Mais allo quoi!» zis bitche iz on FRRRENCH TOAST.
Get ready for a mega post, mes cheris. #sandwichpornpornporn
I've read a million different translations of 'prasannata', but I've deduced it's use is somewhere around rejoice, joyful, tingling with happiness, and sunshine. Which is fitting, 'cause I recently spent the day with my way yogic friend Becca. She taught me some yoga, we made an awesome set of vegan sandwiches, and she left me feeling super zen. And really limber, and light on my feet. Like I had put down a backpack of daily bullshit for the day. Feels great. Also, I kind of needed a detox from all the meat I've been eating for the blog lately.
"Guten Morgen Sonnenschein! Wie schön dass du geboren bist." I can't tell you how many times I stood in our kitchen, watching my friend Denise make a fried egg sandwich. This one's for you, my one and only Ginger.
I don't have anything else to say today. Enjoy your friends. Enjoy the sunshine together. Go out on the rooftop. Don't shy away from a heart-to-heart. You have more to gain than you stand to loose. And eat cheerful looking food.
Ok, this is straight up one of those times where I start with an idea, "Oh, I'm going to use up some of this roast chicken, and make a chicken salad," and then pursue it to near overkill. This sandwich has a Glorious Sandwiches near-record-breaking 17 ingredients in it, not counting the bread. Speaking of overkill, I have this sick sort of fascination with eating chicken AND egg together. It feels so depraved.
Let's talk about PIZZA. Everyone knows pizza is the best food. If you think there's a more perfect invention, you're wrong. Shutup. Go home. You're drunk. Ok, maybe sandwiches, but let's be honest, probably pizza > sandwiches. Anyway, this is my pizza sandwich. It was bound to happen eventually, but I'm actually so so excited about how it turned out.
Also, I'm getting waaaaay too into Instagraming shit. It's going to straight up overtake the blog. If you're on it, add me. I'm always amazed with the crazy amount of talent and #foodporn on there. Also the FB group while you're at it. xx
Go start a personal project. Pick something you inherently love, and set yourself to work at it. I usually don't like being directive, but sometimes, you just need the encouragement and for someone to tell you, your personal interest project/hobby isn't stupid. Hell, mine is making sandwiches. It makes you happy, and that's really the means, and the ends of it. You do it for yourself, and maybe others will appreciate it, but that's not why you do it. And this isn't coming from a super go-getter self-starter either. Naw. Sometimes, the rest of all life's tribulations, and your own failings catch up with you, and you'll be glad you have that thing you work on, for no other reason than your own satisfaction. And it will give you that, every time. That which can only be accomplished by doing something, because you find it inherently satisfying. No amount of nights out, cat videos, or retail therapy can give you that. And maybe you'll even develop some skill at it, and have something to be proud of, and to share with others. Or not, 'cause that's really not the point.
But anyway, I really like making sandwiches. It's not my only thing, but it's one of them. And the other week, I got a really nice message from someone for whom sandwiches is also, his thing. As much as I don't care if anyone understands the sandwich thing, it was really nice to know there are people out there. He proposed doing a sandwich off. I'm always happy to test my sandwich making imagination, so I accepted, and here's the result. What's the twist? Details after the jump.
Middle-class poor is when you haven't earned the things you think you deserve, but work out affording them anyway. Here's a sandwich that was straight up, out of my daily food budget, and FUCK, it was worth it.
Rant to follow, holler if you #relate:
"AND THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS!" ...is something that got said surprisingly a lot in some of my former households, and apartments with my friends through our early and mid 20s. Whether it was just being too drunk to take care of our stuff, or too drunk not to loose it, throwing hazardously crowded parties, or being too hungover to... I'm sure there was more to it than that. Cats? Was it... no, we didn't have cats. ANYWAY. I'm at a point now in life, where I'm realizing I CAN have nice things. I'm an "adult" now (sort of)... I can, have nice things. I just... don't really?
This one's all about the friend crush. And I'm not talking about a new guy, or a Blue is the Warmest Colour scenario. Naw. Life's just turned a little rosy, lately, so I thought I'd make something fancy for all my crush-worthy friends. But specifically, a shout-out to not a friend, so much as an internet stranger. Wha??? Yea. This girl.
Grilled Cheese Social by Mackenzie Smith is probably one of my favourite blogs of all time. I had been happily blogging some sloppy, poorly lit amateur shit for a few years, then someone showed me her blog, and I was like DAMN! Just, damn. Damn, I gotta up my game. She makes these really imaginative grilled cheese sandwiches, explores the plethora of cheese options, she takes some big risks with food combinations, and there's definitely a conscious effort to get creative with bread. But beyond that, her writing is hilarious. It's one of the few blogs I will actually read the post of, and not just skim over the photos. It's just real 20 something shit. And it's pretty worth the read. It's inspired me to really make better content, though I'm still working at trying to find the voice I want to be writing in. I've also really taken cues from her post layout, and started documenting the sandwich procedure, 'cause I've realized this is instructional, as well as an opportunity for maximal foodporn. So when a friend of mine on fb said recently, that I was the GC master (so lolz btw), I just thought nuh uhn. Check her blog out. Though you probably have, it's mega famous.
Anyway, I think this flowery, far-reaching, spicy grilled cheese sandwich says everything I want it to say. It's like, "Hey girl, I know what's up, I'm down for whatever. I don't mind crossing the line of pretension, 'cause I've got plenty of edge, like, I swear fluently in at least two languages."
This post is so obviously the Greek cliché, but I'm gonna talk about the presqu'île, my closest contact to Mediterranean life. The point here, is simplicity. Pair down to a few quality ingredients. Embrace tradition. Minimal effort. Eat. Drink wine (yes, even over lunch). Remind yourself life is good.
But, so omg, I totally don't feel that way at the moment. Life in Toronto can be so manic, and I find myself so unbearably stressed, feeling like I'm always playing catchup. But this sandwich was one of those simple pleasures that reminded me, there is more to life, and sometimes, less is more.
The sandwich is sublime, and memorable, without an ounce of try-hard. Like my favourite shirt, I could eat it every day of the week, but instead break it out with the infrequency to keep it special.
This sandwich, for me, will always be a classic. It's effortless, yet impressive. Simple, while still totally indulgent. It's a laid back, unpretentious grilled cheese, with sophistication. Like the sandwich equivalent of linen. It's also a top shelf idea for any occasion, any company. It's my take on a sandwich I used to order all the time at my favourite food spot in Toronto. On lazy days, or days, I would head out across Trinity Bellwoods park, visit the small galleries down the Ossington strip, then hang a left, and head for my favourite park-adjacent brunch hangout. It's got a classic, 50s diner layout, but none of the kitch. It boasts an all teak bar, with crystal glassware shelved behind, a vintage beverage fridge, and an open-air oyster icebox. The booths are small and intimate, each with a tall coat stand, that serves as a canopy in the cold months, with so many coats. The menu is short, and very carefully chosen. It's the kind of place I couldn't afford at night, but my friends and I used to frequent the brunch menu. We'd get a few dishes, share them around. It's simple food, done with an instinctual flourish. My favourite was their grilled cheese with bartlett pear, served with a chilli tomato compote, and a side of olives. It was a ritual I'd do when I needed out of a funk, or any time I'd have an out of town visitor. That, and a walk back through the park, could cure anything.
This sandwich is a perfect 10. I wouldn't say that about really hardly any other sandwiches I've made, because I try to keep the hyperboles away from self-congratulations. But this sandwich is just perfect. There is absolutely nothing that could make it taste any more brilliant. It's the perfect sandwich. Read on, and if you enjoy seeing sandwich posts, tell a friend.
Guten Morgen, die Sonne scheint auf du.
This one's a breakfast spreads criss cross. It's like getting six different sandwiches on two pieces of toast. It's like a group hug in your mouth! What?? Check out the full post to see what I mean, and follow on Facebook, Instagram and Tumblr.
I. Fucking. Love. Brussel sprouts. I eat them every day. I also have deep affection for Brussels. And if you didn't know french fries are actually Belgian, you know now. Here's my salute to Brussels. How I miss that twisted, ugly city. Also, yo Sybille, gardez-le bien à Bruxelles meuf.
Alright, I know it's only January, but this one tasted like March. You know what I mean? You know how some days, it just smells like spring? Well, in Canada, we have March break, where schools have a few weeks off in March, and like all the other jew kids, I always spent mine in Florida. Visiting the grandparents, if that wasn't clearly implied (and if you were wondering, I don't consider myself a jew, but for the hair, and various Seinfeld references the goyims don't get). ANYWAY. This sandwich, to me, tasted like Florida.
Posting this a little late, just imagine this is a Wednesday.
Happy Humpday you guys. You can lower your eyebrows back down. Humpday, or hump day, is what is better known as Wednesday, as Wednesday marks the middle of the week, that hump you have to get over, before you're leisurely strolling (or running, depending) downhill to the weekend. Glossing over that I'm posting this on a Saturday, and that I'm self-employed, work from home, and the weekend is meaningless, nothing says desperation like burning out on a Wednesday (which I totally did). Here's something comfortingly simple and amply sweet, to get you through the week.