I so love sandwiches. Love, love, love them. Today, I was trying to remember a series of detective novels from the 80’s, in which the hero would build the most magnificent, mouth watering sandwiches, and eat them standing over the sink, but I couldn’t remember the author. I literally googled Police detective in novels that made sandwiches, and the author, Lawrence Sanders, and his books, the “Deadly Sin” series, were the first hit. So I know other people are as obsessed with sandwiches as I am.
When I was little, my mom would make me mustard sandwiches, not because we were poor, and couldn’t afford a spread or slice of bologna, but because the texture of Mrs. Baird’s White Bread and the tang of French’s Mustard was the best combination of all time. Gradually, my tastes refined (but not much), and I came to love braunschweiger and mustard, cheese and mustard, pickle and mustard. Sense a theme? It really wasn’t until I was an adult that I developed a taste for mayonnaise, and now I know that there is nothing better on the after-Thanksgiving turkey sandwich on a leftover dinner roll than mayonnaise and a sweet pickle or two. In fact, I could skip the Thanksgiving meal completely, and just go straight to the sandwiches and my daughter’s pumpkin pie.
Another of my favorite sandwiches is and always be dill pickle slices and creamy peanut butter. Yes, you read that correctly. The crunch of the pickle, the creaminess of the pb…aah, man, heaven. Also, banana slices and peanut butter. And, of course, the classic, fritos and peanut butter (potato chips may be substituted in a pinch). Another wonderful sandwich theme.
At one point in my life, I worked as a temp for the Central Texas Council on Aging (or something like that – now that I am one of the aging, I can’t remember exactly), and one of my duties was making up the lunch menus that would be served to the elderly. While going through the cook books, I found a recipe for BACON AND PEANUT BUTTER sandwiches. The idea of the salty, fatty, crispy goodness of bacon, combined with the salty, fatty goodness of peanut butter, just blew my mind. I still haven’t tried it, because I am worried that the sandwich will take me to Nirvana and my time here on earth will have to end, because, after all, what higher level of heaven can you hope to attain after eating a bacon and peanut butter sandwich? I also worry that that combination will clog all of my arteries and I’ll die of a heart attack. This was, after all, Elvis’ favorite sandwich, and look where it got him, dying on the toilet with his favorite white spangled jumpsuit and cape crumpled around his ankles. No, the bacon and peanut butter will have to wait.
And finally, I give you the universal symbol of all sandwich makers everywhere for “I’m not sure; I might want to make another”: