LE CROQUE-MEUF ham + cheese + french toast

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

THE B-SIDE roast chicken + slab bacon + cranberry boursin + brie

Don't get me wrong, there are some b-sides that are amongst my top fave songs from a band, but they end up as b-sides for a reason. I really had high hopes for this sandwich. If you look closely at the photos, you might even be able to tell I tried making this one twice. But despite my efforts, it just didn't turn out like I was hoping. I mean... it looks ok and all. I didn't throw it in the gutter. But it didn't have the majesty some sandwiches have. I'm putting it out there anyway, for anyone who will quietly gravitate towards it's chaotic, misunderstood, maybe overlooked beauty.

THE FRIEND CRUSH chorizo + blackberry + flower sprout grilled cheese

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." 

THE WALK IN THE PARK red anjou pear grilled cheese

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.