In the Details

Some days even I am in no mood to cook; a recent Saturday morning was one of those days. I always feel bad being lazy on a Saturday; Ben has the time to wait for a big breakfast, and the Farmers Market is a weekly muse. A Saturday without cooking is a surrendered opportunity to be inspired.

I woke up this morning in a mild but stubborn funk. I felt stuck in a lack of energy, but my inner snob balked at the idea of “just throwing something together.” Obviously neither side of the coin was going to make me happy; oh, what to do. When Ben suggested sandwiches I felt like it was the rock bottom of careless cooking. I eventually surrendered and dragged my tired ass to the store.

Just moving around the store was enough to make me really think about putting effort into lunch, but I still had my misgivings. The snobby voices in my head always told me that sandwiches were too common. Common, then, is inevitably boring. Boring cannot be redeemed. Any attempt to improve on the old standby design would feel like reinventing the wheel. Still, with enough energy I am delusional enough to think that I can at least revolutionize the wheel. I can revolutionize the sandwich, people. If bistros in Sonoma can make them chic, there is hope for me yet.

Simple details stack up. First, I skipped the sliced bread (my apologies to the greatest of inventions) and instead chose a sourdough loaf. The sourdough was a fantastic choice for its texture and DIY slice thickness, and was cheaper than most of its pre-sliced peers.

Next, I let Ben’s German blood run wild in choosing a nice cheese from the specialty foods section of the store. I love virtually all types of cheese, but I get bored with the classic standbys after a while. Ben, meanwhile, is a cheese snob stuck in a food novice’s body. I was busy considering a salad mix when he trotted up to me, half excited and half confused, and blurted, “what’s Havarti? Can we get it?” This is a half step up from choosing cheese on a dare. Nevertheless, we got it and ended up loving it. Havarti is a mild and creamy cheese that is great supporting cast in a sandwich.

The condiments nearly did me in. I don’t eat mustard, and mayonnaise is boring, but a dry sandwich is worse. This was no “Sophie’s Choice” moment, but it wasn’t far from it. I drifted back to the specialty foods while thinking back on the better sandwiches in my life. After at least ten minutes of cursing myself for not keeping more exhaustive mental notes on the subject, I spotted pre-made pesto next to the paper-thin slices of proscuitto. This was my answer, and it was a perfect one. I am a pesto addict. If there were a pesto-flavored ice cream, you could probably get me to eat it. I threw it in the basket and thought not only of lunch, but of future dishes that could use a huge helping of pesto. Like I said, I can find a use for it in virtually any dish. I also grabbed a small shaker of garlic salt to make some extremely poor quality aioli (2 tbsp mayonnaise, ½ tsp garlic salt, stir and mash together furiously and spread on sandwich).

In the end, my sandwiches were still sandwiches. They were made of bread, meat, and condiments. They were not revolutionary, but they were delicious enough to feel like an accomplishment and simple enough to complete without much effort. The tiny effort that I did put into it, though, made the difference for me.