Showing posts with label vinegar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vinegar. Show all posts

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Earl of Bread and Meat


Apparently I’m not a purist because I hate rye bread. Pastrami too (was watching 
Sandwich Paradise on Travel Channel). But I love a good sandwich. Man, I’ve been eating sandwiches forever! Aint nothing like a good PB & J. I’m a chunky peanut butter gal. Last year, I ate at Peanut Butter and Co. for the first time for an article I wrote for NY Resident Magazine





Then there’s the other go-to mainstay, a tuna fish sandwich. I don’t eat tuna fish sandwiches from restaurants or delis. Just can’t do it. But after I drain the can, I add some ranch dressing or honey mustard, mix and eat. Simple, and I use the entire can in my sandwich. 




During junior high school, I think I raised myself on ham and cheese, lettuce and tomato, mayo on one side. I remember shopping trips with my mother and we’d get a ham and Swiss from Blimpie. I’m not a fan of wet sandwiches, but I had to have the oil and vinegar running down my knuckles as it dripped off the curved ends of the raw onions. My tastes have matured and the combination of the different hams (or turkey) and cheeses from around the world, never gets old. And that shredded iceberg you get from the deli has been replaced with mesclun greens. 




Meatball subs turn me off. Just the sight of them. As does the thought of eating a Reuben – sauerkraut and corned beef? Not to mention that bread (see opening statement) But I do like a good pizza burger. Don’t get me started on burgers…



I made a great sandwich for lunch today! It started with a chicken cutlet that I seasoned with salt, black pepper, paprika, garlic, cilantro and parsley. A quick searing on extremely high heat to seal in the juices, then I lower the heat and cover. Juiciest chicken ever. While that’s cooking, I cut my rolls open and put it on the burner, high flame, about 10 seconds each side. When I’m almost ready to take the chicken off the heat, I lay a slice (or 2) of gouda or muenster cheese on the chicken, just until it starts to get soft, not to the melting point. That chicken & cheese combo goes right from the flame to the bun, cradled by a bed of crisp lettuce. Chilled salsa is scooped onto the chicken. It’s the juiciest, freshest, flavorful sandwich with a little bit of spice and char from the bun, the hot and cold dancing provocatively in my mouth. Dee-Lish! This sandwich can also be prepared with those burger patty-sized portabella mushrooms for my vegetarian comrades. My kitchen is always open.


Monday, February 23, 2009

Damn Black People


I find humor in 
SOME stereotypes. So, I’m walking around Greenwich Village on this very bright, brisk day, Afro blowing in the wind and had a hankering for some fish (I’m known to get cravings that sometimes turn into month-long binges). I end up in Little Britain at A Salt and Battery. I order Fish and Chips and the guy working on this particular day asked if I wanted any particular condiments. He said he had already put the tartar sauce in the bag. And I knew I didn’t have to ask for the vinegar, so I said no and took a seat to wait for my order. Not long after he called me when my cod and chips were fried to a crisp. 

“Here you go, love. Where are you?” he asked in his hackney accent. 

I hopped off my stool and went to the counter. Then he asked again if I wanted any condiments. He probably forgot he asked me already. I shook my head 
‘no’. Then he asked if I wanted any hot sauce. Again, I said no and left the shop. I thought that was strange. I’m walking down the block and wondering, “Who the hell puts hot sauce on fish and chips?”

Black people.

I smiled. I couldn’t even get mad at him. As I’m approaching the subway entrance, I see a woman who is confused, getting directions from a man who is confused. People often ask me for navigation tips when I’m walking around so I prepped myself. Next to that man and woman, there was a homeless guy (one of those got-better-clothes-than-you-on homeless guys) sitting there shaking his cup at me. I shook my head at him and turned back to the couple trying to figure which way they should go.

“What you worried ‘bout her for? I’m the one that needs help!”

My man begging for money and gonna get rude! Maybe the cold and hunger made him irritable, but I’m supposed to go in 
my pocket to help him after he’s being demanding and belligerent? 

Yup, he was Black.

I should’ve reached in my bag and started eating my fish and chips right in front of him.

Again, 
Black People.



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