Squashed Sandwich

Years ago, I remember watching Julia Child and Jacques Pépin construct a marvelous big round sandwich using an entire cottage loaf of French bread. I love watching them work together - their teasing yet respectful comradery has always tickled me. Called a pan bagnat, the sandwich called for brie cheese, shallots, tomatoes, olives, anchovies and vinaigrette, then was pressed under a heavy weight until the juices all soaked in to the bread and was divided between all the eaters. Sounds wonderful, doesn't it?

Well, I had only a vague memory of what goes in but decided I wanted to make a similar sandwich without looking it up on YouTube, so I got out a bunch of ingredients and went to work.

I used Acme's wonderful herb slab bread, cutting off a piece about the right size, then slicing it in half through the middle so there was crust on both sides. Drizzled some EVOO on the bottom and balsamic vinaigrette on the top, then layered cheese, slices of cooked spicy Italian sausage and marinated artichoke hearts inside. I wished for some minced shallot that I didn't have and a few leaves of soft lettuce would have been nice, too. Oh, well. I wrapped the sandwich in plastic wrap and stuck it in the fridge for half a day, weighed down by a quart of orange juice laid on its side on top of the sandwich.

The combination of the herbal bread, the tangy vinaigrette and the savory ingredients made for a lovely sammie, even though it wasn't authentic to Julia and Jacques. I checked out Pan Bagnat on the interwebs while I waited for mine to chill and compress, and that gave me all kinds of ideas for next time.

In the meantime, if you are looking for a really nice warm weather meal, this sandwich or one like it is a great option. It's cool from hours in the fridge, flavorful from whichever ingredients you select and filling. If you used a whole loaf, you could feed an army or feed yourself for a week, but there's no need to make more than you can eat today.

Bon Appetit, as Julia would say. Happy Cooking from Jacques.

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.

First Try

Like almost everyone I know, I was reading the sandwich issue of Saveur magazine when I came across a reference to a bacon sandwich. They had me from the word "bacon."

In this country, we love a good bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich, but tomato season is months away and this sandwich didn't mention anything from the vegetable kingdom, unless you count the bread.

It seems to be a favorite in England, where it is served in pubs and greasy spoons, often with brown sauce or ketchup added but sometimes, it's just buttered bread and bacon. When I looked for additional references, it seemed to be less like what we call bacon and more like Canadian bacon, quite a bit leaner. I thought immediately of the Comstock bacon sold at Butler Meats in Carson City and wished I had some of that.

Anyway, I bought some Canadian bacon, buttered two halves of a split herbed focaccia slice, grilled them and the bacon briefly, and slapped together a sandwich.

The verdict: Keep Trying. It was too lean to be tasty and needed a smokier, tastier product than the one I bought, which shall remain nameless. I'd also cook the bread in the same pan as the bacon next time, to let it absorb some of that flavor. I will look for some steak sauce to juice it up a bit.

I'll keep trying until I make a really tasty bacon butty; it will be its own reward.

Signature Sandwich

From our earliest days together, when we would stumble into the kitchen starving hungry from spending too much time in the bedroom (oh, my!), My Beloved would make this for me, his signature dish.

Fried egg sandwich.

It's quick, it's filling and it fuels one for whatever comes next. There is nothing to it - toast some bread and butter it, crack a couple of eggs into a small frying pan, pierce the yolks so they spread and cook more quickly and evenly, flip sunny side over and they're done. Assemble and eat, wiping your chin if a little of the yolk runs out.

I love a guy who can really cook. Enough said.

French Tea, English Idea

When Cousin J-Yah and I were window shopping a few months ago, we noticed a pretty but pricey tiered plate and remarked about how nice it would be to use it for a tea party like we did when we were children.

Then, not long after, I happened upon Tal-Y-Tara, a delightful little San Francisco shop that offers an unusual combination - horse tack and afternoon teas. Their tea included several different kinds of sandwiches on brown bread, quite delicious and served in a charming hodgepodge of jodhpurs, saddles, comfy chintz sofas and flowered teapots. I liked their selection of a variety of little bites so when J-Yah scored this colorful tiered plate at a yard sale for a tiny fraction of the cost of the one in the window, I stole their idea for our first tea party.

Using a combination of my homemade white and whole wheat breads and B&M Boston Brown Bread, all very thinly sliced, I stuffed them with fillings such as cucumbers and dill, cream cheese, chicken, cheddar and chutney, and ham and cheese with Dijon mustard. With a few ripe strawberries and some cookies to round out the meal, we brewed some of the The' de Paques and sat down to a tea party, happy as little girls.