Sublime Sandwich

Until local tomatoes are ripe enough for a BLT or that killer open-faced avocado and ripe tomato sandwich that defines summer sandwich heaven for me, I'm eating this.

It all began with a pot of mustard that I found at my local market, a new brand to me. I usually use good old Grey Poupon, even though the name makes me snicker like an eight year old boy, but this time I noticed and purchased a jar of Edmond Fallot. It's a Dijon mustard, not even remotely local. It has a milder bite and a mellower flavor than the standard, and is tasty and delicious in its own way.

My Beloved has flown back east to attend our granddaughter's first dance recital and our grandson's dedication at the little church around the corner from their house, so I was on my own for dinner and that usually means moping around missing him and not cooking. But, finding the Fallot, some Swiss slices, a package of corned beef and a loaf of wheatberry bread in the fridge, it all seemed to call for a grilled sandwich, so I got out my frying pan.

Scraped the bread on one side with mayo and slathered the other side with Fallot, laid a slice of cheese and one of corned beef in between and grilled the sandwich in a buttery pan over medium heat until the bread crisped, the beef warmed and the cheese oozed. It's an ambrosial combination. Nutty cheese needs a feisty little mustard, gentle warming and the richness of corned beef to bring out its best. The wheatberry bread was a crisp and textured counterpoint to the melting, warm insides.

After the smooching is over, I'm going to make one of these for My Beloved when he returns today, just to remind him that coming home is a good thing.