Thursday, July 15, 2010

This may be a bit uncouth, and tactically speaking I’m not even sure how it would work, but I’d like to have your attention on credit tonight. Let me explain. I still have sandwiches on the brain, since I’ve been consuming the same goddamn one for about a week now, and it’s imperative I close this case file for good. In return, I promise you far more compelling content next week, provided you bear with me this evening. I can’t promise likewise for the week after that because, well, I had originally scheduled a solid block of boredom for those two posts.

I’m going to christen my take on the Italian submarine sandwich as “The Swinery,” a name which should serve equally as description and warning to all would-be diners. My refrigerator, which originally smelled like a refrigerator, transformed into an old-world larder mere minutes after I stored the meats. Think of a pantry in a cellar deep in Tuscan country laden with the thick, heavy scent of salted pork. I realized I don’t even like pork, at least in its most common formats. No ribs, no pork chops, but for whatever reason pork from a deli slicer seemed like a great idea at the time.

This sandwich was also a sodium bomb, and hours after consuming my first one I was still pounding back water after water. The final verdict? B-. I’d cut back on the capicola, keep the capers, swap out the horseradish mustard for light mayo, and select a cheese far more understated than horseradish cheddar. A substantial cheese, mind you, albeit one that wasn’t laced with a condiment you’d find at freakin’ Arby’s. Consider this first experiment in the bag. I’m thinking a breaded chicken cutlet sandwich for this weekend. While I’d like to tell you otherwise, I’m very nearly certain I’ll go overboard again with the initial version. You may be assured of it, in fact, because I’m already picturing smokey bacon, Russian dressing, maybe even scallions. Perhaps that’s the way the trajectory goes, though, when you approach something new. It’s unlikely your first creation will be refined. You knock out the prototype. Get a feel for the spectrum. And subtlety must be earned, rather than discovered.