Elli’s tuna sandwich, at Flickr
Welcome to Sandwich Party 2: Sandwich Party Harder. Jagosaurus and I will be collecting entries all weekend long, so enjoy that sandwich!
Post about your sandwich on your own blog, on Flickr, or somewhere else online, then drop us a comment here or here, or here or here. Be sure to include a link back to your own entry!
No blog and no Flickr account? Just leave your Sandwich Party entry in the comments, and we’ll include it in the round-up. It’s a Sandwich Party, people — the more, the Marmite-er!
Once again, Simon is the first out of the gate! He reminisces about the foccacina, a sandwich that’s tied to a particular time and place — and that time and place is August in Liguria:
Why do I need to go to Italy to take a photo of a sandwich? […] One of the inspirations behind this entry was a growing interest in regionality and cultural specificity. In other words, sometimes in order to find the good stuff, you have to go to the source.
Tom serves a childhood classic, as rich in simple Southern tradition as a handful of Spanish peanuts in an R.C. Cola:
my sandwich is very simple (and Southern) :
slice of pineapple
2 slices of bread.
I remember eating this as a child and my brother who lives in Alabama said that he has seen some of his employees bring this sandwich to work for lunch.
For me, this sandwich was all about the title:
I knew immediately what belonged in the Black Velvet Elvis, what was dark and rich and luxurious enough to earn that name.
The Black Velvet Elvis (whose name quickly evolved ’round these parts to, variously, the Velvet Costello, the Costello Nutella, and the ElvStello) was breakfast. Here’s lunch:
The Iron Maiden was born from the collision of several needs. I needed a sandwich for the Sandwich Party. I needed a meal rich in iron. And I needed — needed — chicken livers.
It is a sandwich I still keep dreaming about. Partly because the sandwich itself was just so good, and partly because the adventure of making it was so much fun.
Macbebekin’s own Elli made a simple but handsome sandwich from the pantry:
Inspired by the desire to get rid of the canned goods we carried with us on our many travels across the country, I made a tuna sandwich.
JM treats us to Minimalistic Sandwich with Ambience over at Flickr. Mmm, ambience:
Tuna with tandoori red onion and garlic on seaweed rice cracker. baby lettuce leaf garnished with tomato and cucumber splits, finished with finely ground parmesan.
Erik R. gives us the voice of a pork sandwich:
My sandwich entry for the July 2008 Sandwich Party is more or less a recreation of the sandwich I order almost every Thursday night when the missus and I go out dancing. Pork fillets, onions, peppers, melted cheese, and mustard. Delicious.
Ogre prescribes a lasagne sandwich with mayonnaise:
Like revenge, lasagna is a dish best served cold.
Frédérique offers a mouthwatering cheatburger:
Burgers are a kind of sandwich, right? I think so too. And such a burger, with kiwi bacon (meatier than the North American streaky bacon), aioli mayonaise, pickled red onions and pickled carrots, and a few leaves of fancy lettuce, on a slightly grilled almost-foccacia-like bun, certainly deserves an entry in the Sandwich Party.
Just as I was wondering whether any partygoers would challenge the nature of the sandwich format and forego bread, my lovely co-hostess Jagosaurus shows off her farmers’ market surprise:
My contribution seems more like an art project than a sandwich. Tasty though.
Sgazzetti, my beloved expatriate brother, reconstructs a canonical picnic-outing-and-beachday sandwich from our childhood hometown:
One of the first features of the new city to imprint itself upon my mind was the Italian. Noun, not adjective. The Italian is of the family of sandwiches known variously as the sub, hoagie, grinder, etc, but in Portland, Maine, it is simply the Italian.
At the risk of being maudlin, I want to tell you about my father’s last BLT:
It seemed clear that he would die soon, without ever regaining his grin, his humor, his appetite for jokes and stories and family and food, without ever coming back to us.
Until the night of the BLT.
The Queen points us toward her recipe for the grilled chocolate sandwich. Not all our partygoers are equipped to make this sandwich:
Because I keep my promises, here is the recipe for the Grilled Chocolate Sandwich.
Two: Melt butter, split croissants and fry.
Three: Flip croissants and add chocolate, in this case Russell Stover. And be sure to take a bite to test the quality.
Four: Let chocolate melt.
Five: Salt lightly and serve.
Don’t skip step one, because otherwise this is just gross..
Maven tossed together a locavore gourmand’s delight:
It’s a beet sandwich. The bread is green olive batard, which is just what I happened to have. Add blue cheese made locally, arugula grown by your mom’s cousin, and sliced roasted beets also grown by your mom’s cousin but roasted by you. Top with more blue cheese and walnuts.
You want a side with that sandwich, hon’? Elli made oven fries!
Final verdict: Super! Will definitely make them again.
And Bill D. brought the chips!
And face it, you can’t have a party of any kind – especially not a sandwich party – without a big bowl of chips!
Is it time for dessert? I made ice cream chocolate chip son-of-a-&!%*#wiches:
A salty cookie doesn’t have to mean salty language. In deference to the delicate sensibilities of our readers, I’ve expurgated the foulness of my filthy, filthy mouth.
Still no sandwich from you? Jagosaurus and I will be updating at intervals all weekend, so you have some time to get your entry in! It’s a party, and you’re invited!
Oh, and don’t forget your button, courtesy of Macbebekin’s own Elli!
This Sandwich Party entry originated Friday, July 25th, at 8:40 a.m. and will be updated through the weekend.