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.
I have to explain for a moment, why I've started naming my sandwiches. And relay the reasons for this above poor choice right here. I started the blog in 2009, and kept it secret for at least a year. When I eventually started telling my friends about my really silly personal project, they naturally, started asking me to make sandwiches for them. I was all too happy to, because so often in the endeavour to make someone's dream sandwich, I really extended my own creativity, and came up with stuff I never would have thought I could have come up with. The sandwich dedicating definitely set me on a path. I'd call them, ask them to tell me what kind of a sandwich they would want. They'd request one or two ingredients, and I'd come up with the rest. They'd come over, I'd make it, and I'd usually photograph them eating it. But so often, I was surprised to be asked, "What's this one called?" I've been dismissing the notion of naming sandwiches, thinking listing their feature ingredients is good enough. And for some sandwiches, it is. But some sandwiches have some sort of personality, or context to them. So I thought it would be fun to finally start naming them. Here's The Lucky Cat, for your eye delecting pleasure.
When you're younger, your older friends always seemed so grown up. They had things figured out. It could sometimes have made them seem slightly intimidating, but ultimately, you weren't threatened, because you knew by the time you were their age, you would have all the same things figured out too. Hahaha. Then when you're 27, you realize you're older now, than your older friends then, and you're still struggling like hell. And that makes you feel old. I had a good conversation with a friend the other day about this, and not comparing yourself to people who aren't you. What those people have is what they want, and you don't have to want that too. It's not race, you'll have what you want when you're ready to work at it, and it's ok if still wandering makes you feel old, sometimes. Pat yourself on the back for the things you've figured out,
and remember, you hate yourself because you do nothing and have a grilled cheese.
Here's a slightly more adult version of the simple childhood grilled cheese we all know and love. If you feel no nostalgia for that pan fried, orange cheese, crispy little sandwich, that tastes of never ending afternoons, and concentrated, gooey bliss, you have probably died inside. Go watch some Care Bears. Last photo even shows it with *gasp* ketchup.
Scratch that. I'm gonna eat a grilled cheese, and watch The Jetsons. But like, before I was old enough to realize how 1950s sexist The Jetsons is.
In this life, I think it's really important everyone have at least one best friend. Someone who comes over in the afternoon, simply because you're both not doing anything. Someone you talk to about every daily occurrence of your life, half of which they're present for. Someone you don't mind eating your groceries. Someone you can do a fancy 4 o'clock tea time with when it's raining, but not because you want to impress them. Just because. Anyway, I don't live in the same country anymore as my bestie, but #throughthemagicoftheinternet I can still say "hey girl" all the time, and "let me make you fancy sandwiches over tea, while I do my laundry in your house."
Also, I finally gave in, and started INSTAGRAM. It's actually so much more fun, and not nearly as pointless as I had thought it would be. What are some good accounts to follow? Hit me up! @glorioussandwiches.
One of my favourite things, is 'not my favourite things.' You dig? Don't kill your spirit with familiarity and comfort. Your favourite things aren't that great anymore anyhow, when there's no longer a thrill to consuming/seeing/doing them. Everyone should step outside themselves. More generally, but also particularly pertaining to food. I like finding myself off my own radar. Go visit a different country, or barring that, eat something weird.
Ps I'm now on TWITTER! Follow me on TWITTER, FACEBOOK, TUMBLR!
So, it's like I totally forgot that I have this blog. But it's a new year, and there's never a better time to carry on like you're not lazy, and distractible, and get back to regular
(?) blogging. 2013 was kind of a forgettable blur. Every year, I say has been my best year, but 2013 was a standout throw away. Now, I'm not known for my beaming positivity, but I think I'm prone to seeing the world with a pretty optimism-slanted realism. I don't know how it's gonna roll, but what I will say about 2014, is that there will be more sandwiches.
And if there's ever a remedy to a new year's hangover, it's a warm, melty grilled cheese sandwich. Here to kick off 2014 is the golden beet + cranberry + goat brie grilled cheese. 'Cause
I had leftover beets in my fridge this year's gonna be golden.