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I’m going to skip the historical jaunt through the history of the sandwich* and launch right into my Personal Sandwich Olympics!
Open Faced, tomato, cheese, huge slab of toasted bread.
Consumed happily on a stop at the Anjou Bakery in the middle of an orchard in Washington State.
I think Schmoo’s face says it all.
Silver Medal: Ireland
Brie and Mashed Potatoes on brown.
Colorful, no. Tasty to two girls walking the Cliff’s of Mohr, and subsequently having a picnic cliff-side with our backs to the warm rocks and our faces to the ocean breezes? Heck ya.
Besides, we were in Ireland, you put potatoes in everything.
[For the record, this photo is of Inishmore, one of the Aran Islands in Galway Bay]
Gold Medal: CANADA (WOOT!)
In September 2003 Schmoo and I set out to make the perfect sandwich, something which would be worthy of nice bottle of red that RC had given to me for my birthday six months previous, and jealously hoarded since.
We bought a round of sourdough at the Italian Bakery, picked fresh cherry tomatoes from my yard, crisped the bacon, slathered on the mayo, and topped with brie. Sadly no photos exist, but I do have an email to RC from the next morning where I report that I was “lovely, warm, comfy and appeased” by the wine and sandwich night. A gold medal sandwich indeed.
Tonight’s sandwich is a homage to the gold medal winner: roasted-garlic bread (toasted), goat brie, thick sliced bacon, tomato, polski ogorki pickles and salt and pepper.
It was really really good.
So I made and ate another.
*Other than to clear this up: an 18th century aristocrat did NOT invent the sandwich. Come on people, it’s meat and cheese between bread… did you really think that nobody thought of that before?