So, why the sandwich??

I must apologize, the last post I promised you an explanation that I failed to deliver.  Yes, you've been a victim to false advertising...but as much as I wanted to elaborate on the second half of the title, it just seemed right to end it at the point I did.  It had natural closure, and every literary segue I could come up just didn't fit quite right, so it only seemed appropriate to re-dedicate an entire new post to this ever important issue...

So here we go, once again...why the sandwich?

Growing up my mom always packed lunch for my Dad, me, and later my little brother.  And when I say always, I mean ALWAYS.  Looking back, I see a number of reasons behind her never failing early rising in order to send us each off with a lunch box chalk full of nutritious and well balanced snacks.  There was always my thermos of milk, my sandwich, a bag of chips, some fruit, and a little treat...usually a homemade cookie of some sorts or a ho ho.  (We loved our ho ho's, or rather she loved ho ho's so they often ended up in our boxes with no complaints on our end.)  I remember being the envy of the lunch tables, my friends always griping that my lunches were the best and me thinking I'd love to be able to trade my thermos of milk and health conscious treats in for one of the hot lunches the school would provide which had all sorts of not so healthy but delicious alternatives.  Even as I grew up and went off to middle school, then high school I'd have to beg my mom to let me buy lunch from the snack bar and later cafeteria or off campus.  I remember distinctly in middle school hoping as I walked to the kitchen on Thursday mornings that instead of my, now soft sided, lunch box I'd be greeted with four bright green "lunch tickets"--the school didn't want kids walking around with real money so you had to purchase this fake money to use at the snack bar--and the prospect of the delicious turkey sandwiches on light airy baguettes that every kid would be lined up for.  Thursday lunches were the best, even better than Friday pizza day.  In high school I actually began to enjoy my mom's lunches.  I was old enough to appreciate the time and effort and love that went into each one, how perfectly balanced they were (though my milk was now replaced by juice, water, and the occasional pepsi), and how it allowed me to indulge in my favorite lunchtime activity...sit in the back of my pickup with my friends and blast my country music in the parking lot as all the other upperclassmen scrambled to get out of the lot, grab food, and get back in the given 30 minutes.  But that's beside the point and now I've gone off on a tangent (as you will soon find is often the case), so let's get back to the task at hand.

Now that I'm in my later 20's, with an apartment and bills of my own, and having just quit my full time office job to chase my dreams...I've once again turned to the trusted bread and pressed lunch meats of my childhood.  I now realize that my mom waking up before dawn to pack us lunches wasn't just to torture me or make feel like an outsider compared to my friends at lunch time, it wasn't simply because she loved us and wanted us to be healthy, but also quite an economically viable option for a family of four with a stay at home mom.  This is where my money conscious views and great budgeting skills derived from.  The same skills that allowed me to take this great leap of faith, to turn my second job into my only job, were the skills that allowed my young parents starting out on the adventure of becoming a family with nothing to their name to create a wonderful comfortable life for my brother and I, a childhood that never seemed to lack regardless of how hard it was to make ends meet on their ends, and eventually a wonderful foundation and even the guarantee of higher education.  These skills are priceless, and surprisingly rare in today's world.  I live without debt, without going over my means, and have always understood the value of saving for tomorrow.  And now...tomorrow is today.

So on that note, breakfast and lunch have become priceless.  Often for dinner I'll be at work, so my joy of cooking is limited these days, and oatmeal and the good 'ole meat between two slices of bread has become staples of my day, my grocery shopping list, and the extent of my food creativity.  As a kid I despised sandwiches, perhaps it was because I ate one every single day, and they were the good type--with cheese and lettuce, mayonase and mustard--and as a college student I missed my mom's sandwiches (something always makes them taste better knowing mom made them) but for as long as I can remember I've always loveeed a good deli sandwich.  You know the type, thick crunchy roll, lots of meat, tomato, pickles, sprouts, the works...the type of sandwich that makes your mouth water just looking at it, and never seems to disappoint?  My dad and I would drive over the hill into town or to the neighboring towns just to visit the little stand alone deli's that would pop up, and later disappear, in order to satisfy our common love of such works of art. Well have you noticed that these types of delis, the ones with the ever delicious and perfect sandwiches, the refrigerator cases full of the best variety of meats, cheeses, and the works, have started becoming a rarity?  You almost have to go on a treasure hunt for a good basic deli sandwich these days, and deli's themselves are becoming so obsolete, soon they will be a thing of the past kinda like the neighborhood butcher.  So to solve the problem, I decided if I was going to have to resort to eating sandwiches on a daily basis (I'm a bit of a food snob, I love variety and the extravagant) then these would simply have to be the best sandwiches ever.  So what makes the best sandwich?

Well, there's the basic.  You start with two pieces of bread.  The best type being sourdough or french roll, maybe dutch crunch....but I'm trying to save money here, and remain healthy...so 100% whole wheat it is.  Now, depending on the sandwich you can toast the bread, but only if appropriate.  Then comes the rest, mayonase, a healthy amount of meat, cheese, tomato, maybe some avocado, extra lettuce (this is a must) and what I have found to be the key...the "secret" to the perfect sandwich so to speak...pickles.  Seriously, the pickles are what elevates a sandwich from "ok, that was a good sandwich" to "this is the best thing ever!"  Don't believe me?  Try it, I dare you.  Make a delicious sandwich full of everything you love, say...roast beef, pepper jack cheese, tomatoes, lettuce...and take a bite.  Now add pickles...and get ready to be blown away.   All these years I'd make these elaborate sandwiches, and yet I'd still somehow end up opting for a trip to Gelson's (who btw make some of the BEST grocery store deli sandwiches) when it came down to it, and it wasn't simply because I was being lazy.  They genuinely tasted better...even with their skimpy portion of lettuce (I love the crunch), and this whole time I never realized the simple key was a jar of pickles.  I prefer the type that are cut longways and perfect sandwich size.  They ensure that every bite is bound to have that delicious soft snap, that sour salty edge, that sandwich elevating texture and flavor.  If I'm going to have to save money and make lunch in my own kitchen on a regular basis, well it does not mean I'm going to skimp on flavor and these delicious little slices of sandwich heaven ensure an enjoyable experience each and every time.  And since sandwiches are now a staple in my starving artist diet, and I have discovered the key to the ever elusive ever important "wow" factor when it comes to our simplest of lunch time meals, I feel compelled to share it with the world (or the select few that choose to read this blog).  The secret of the sandwich lies within the pickles...and the sandwich is now the center of my universe and therefore it only seems right to dedicate this blog about everything and nothing to the much under appreciated secret of the sandwich...the pickle.

Welcome to the life of an actress in the making...