Prompted by Grant Howitt, the 10 most important and life-changing sandwiches in my life: 1. The hog roast roll I ate at our wedding, after the main event, between dances, laden with apple sauce and the sheer joy of movement and my friends and knowing we would be together forever. 2. Prosciutto and mozarella paninis from the weird secret sandwich shop near Citywire, which you reached by going through a hotel for some reason, down stairs into what looked like a toilet and then suddenly there were Sandwiches and I felt like I was discovering London for the first time. 3. Fish finger and iceberg lettuce sandwiches from the Pottergate Pantry, an excellent refuge from the trials and tribulations of a tricky part-time design job that often gave me more work to do than my degree did. 4. Philadelphia and Wotsits sandwiches eaten sitting on the sofa in the independent flat at the hostel I lived in when I was 16/17, trying to afford food and not eat wrong, experimenting with student food two years early. 5. That chicken goujon and sweet chilli baguette Grant made me back when we were just going out, that I think formed the basis of our relationship. I sent him a text describing it as a Mage three-dot artefact, which tells you a lot about where we were at the time. 6. The chicken roll, Red Leicester and sweetcorn sandwich I made for an assignment in school when I was about six, and then demanded my mother made for me every time I had a packed lunch for months, even when she pointed out that all the sweetcorn fell out. 7. The sandwiches we bought in Ambleside on our honeymoon and took up Wansfell Pike and then down into Troutbeck, where a chicken was completely determined to steal them and did everything it could including sneaking up behind us on a wall and jumping furiously to try to get hold of them. 8. The huge platters of open smoked salmon sandwiches we have for Christmas at my parents house, at my mothers insistence and my eager acquiescence, that we used to have when I was very young at my uncles hotel with all my cousins there, and I can trace my love of smoked salmon on wholemeal bread to the first memory I have of the bar there and the excitement of being so young in such a grown-up space. 9. Banana sandwiches in the hospital, when nothing was going right and the only control I had left was food, eating them for every lunchtime meal, squashing the brown bread together and eating the butter in careful bites, measuring out my madness in small chunks I could comprehend. 10. The cajun chicken schnitzel, cheese and bacon burger from City Edge, which is better than the T9 or the S7 whatever anyone says, but is a sometimes treat because it is the filthiest, most delicious thing that any human has ever eaten, and I would be glad I came to Australia if nothing else had gone right but that incredible sandwich.
Posted on: Thu, 18 Sep 2014 12:36:23 +0000
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