What in the name of all that is holy?!

If your mind has never been blown before, it will be. KFC has done the unthinkable for their mad-scientist style experiment known as the "double down." They took the bread away (get out of here grains!) and replaced it with two pieces of fried chicken. In the middle: melted cheese and bacon.
Is it a sandwich? Is it an attack on all that is holy and good? Or is it the newest link in the sandwich evolution chain? Only time will tell...

Gum Sandwich!

I'm not much of a "gum person" but this is clearly inspired by that most perfect form...

Head Down, Power Through.

We all hit a rut at one point in our lives, whether it is with a job, a relationship, our daily lives or even a beloved hobby. I feel I can confide in all of you one painful secret: I have hit one of those ruts with my sandwich intake.
It may have been the discovery that one of my favorite foot-long heroes from one of my favorite local establishments was responsible for some stomach sickness. Or it may have been the string of dry and tasteless turkey sandwiches I have recently plowed through which have put me in a state of depression and fear of another disappointment.

As a result, I have had few words to write, and even fewer sandwiches to enjoy. To make it up to everyone, here is something from the experts, a great piece of internet journalism for you globe-trotters looking for the next great meal: Travel Channel's Sandwich Paradise.

When He Won't Do That

Ladies, don't'cha ever wonder what the heck is going through men's heads?! Through those fat ugly heads we love so much? I mean the sports and the hygiene and the overbearing checking of your email....what's a girl like me to do?! Seriously! WHAT??? I don't know! But those questions are for another column. I told you I'd prepare a column on the intersection of relationships and sandwiches, not how to communicate your feelings and find out if HE'S been following you to work. Those are questions I'll leave to the pro's and the prescriptions. All I know is no matter how INSANEly irritated we get somtimes, we still keep 'em around right?! For security mostly! Hahaha! But really, if the big lug weren't so insanely adorable wouldn't it be time to call the police?!

When you saddle up to the sandwich counter, is it the same problem every time? Your man won't do THAT. It's the fourth time in two weeks and as you say "I'll have a turkey and swiss on white with lettuce, tomato and mayo..." you just start to feel like things are getting a little stale. Like you're just not getting the satisfaction you came here looking for. It would only take a slice of gouda and some peppers, maybe some ham and cheddar...shit, why can't we just do a roast beef once in a while? It's not like I'm asking you to get a Reuben or something, although it might be nice to find one waiting for me one of these days. But NO.

How do you read a man who doesn't like but one kind of sandwich meat? Did his father not hug him? Did another woman make him too few sandwiches? Too many? The truth is some men will always fear sandwich meat, and in many cases it's not something you can fix. It's something he has to want to fix himself. What you can do is be supportive. DO NOT trick him into eating different kinds of sandwich meat, even if you're sure he'll like it. Chances are he'll feel betrayed and that's the last thing you want coming between you. Also, it won't help for you to order your own alternative sandwiches in front of him. Flaunting your meatloaf grill in public will only make him feel like less of a man.

Instead try adding small touches here and there. Cranberry mayonaise? Butterleaf lettuce? These things aren't as indimidating as meats so your little sensitive palate boy might be up for a change. Stay away from tough breads that make a mess. This only represents the emotional state he is no doubt feeling. If you're feeling sensual, try a wrap. And be supportive. If he's had a bad day he probably just wants to come home to the sandwich he's most comfortable with.

Your First?

They say you never forget your first. I will never forget the first sandwich that I fell for.
It was from the local coffee shop in my home town. I had ordered many drinks from this establishment, but never a culinary delight. (Maybe an everything bagel with honey walnut cream cheese every now and then, but never from their chalkboard of daily specials. Then I saw it. It had some sort of folksy, regional inspired name, like the New Englander, or the Vermonter, or the farmer-hippie. This list was exciting and comforting all at the same time: turkey, cheese, lettuce, roasted red peppers (my first introduction), honey mustard (an obsession at the time) and apples (what?)on grilled bread. They got everything right, a sandwich made just for me.

What was your first?

Zaftigs: A Review

"Is this too much meat? I will let you know after the first heartattack..." And so began my journey into the beast that is The New Yorker; not the sophisticated intellectual-aimed publication or a Yankee fan flipping you off at the bar, but a signature sandwich of Zaftig's Delicatessen on Harvard Ave in Brookline.

The sandwich menu here is a stunning lineup of simple deli favorites (tuna salad, salami, hot and cold corned beef) and their mouth-watering combinations. The one that caught my eye had the following description:

12 ounces of hot pastrami & corned beef, Swiss cheese and Russian dressing on cissel served with half sour pickles, full sour pickles & sour tomato.

I ordered the New Yorker, my stomach growling for the combination of two of mankind's saltiest meats stacked together. I will admit I did not rationally consider what 12 oz of meat would look like, but the testesterone in me would not have let me backtrack anyway. When it arrived I stared in quiet awe. Two tiny slices of bread sat below and above two thinly sliced, pink rolling hills of meat. My hands squeezed the bread tightly in an attempt to hold the beef in place. They failed. Biting into it made things worse, as the slices of corned beef and pastrami tumbled to my plate, and smeared my face with Russian dressing. I alternated between this, and using my fork and knife to thin out the insides of the sandwich.

I was so overwhelmed by the mass of The New Yorker, it took digestion and 24 hours for me to think about it. After some thought, the Pro's and Con's...



Pro: Meat! Do you like thin-cut, melt-in-your-mouth, salty and peppery, high quality deli meat? That's what you are getting. And did I mention there is alot of it?! Also, it is simple: Meat, cheese and dressing on bread with pickles on the side.

Con: Hubris! The idea of that much meat could be supported by bread which was cut as thin as the pastrami, seems almost crazy. Choosing how to eat this became a challenge. I appreciate a good sandwich challenge, believe me, but the wizards in this deli either did not think it through, or were unsure about how they wanted people to eat it.


So if the carnivore in you is going crazy, looking to be satisfied by mountains of meat (with some bread) give this bad boy a spin.

Falafel Palace Falafel

Ever since I imprinted on the Hostel in the Forest, I haven't been especially interested in other sandwiches, which dramatically decreases my potential contributions to this blog.

However, a falafel is not exactly a sandwich, and Moody's Falafel Palace in Central Square, Cambridge, deserves a shout-out.


Falafel: Not just for showering anymore.

I always get the Falafel Roll-up with hummus, because it's the best. Falafel, hummus, tahini, pickles, other things... a downright democratic representation of flavors and textures, swaddled in a buttery wrap. I get so excited about this wrap that when I hear "Falafel with hummus?" shouted from the other end of the counter, I more often than not respond with a giggle.

The tahini drips out the other end, which is how I like it. You can ask for less tahini, though. I don't know why you'd do that.

My one complaint is that the roll-up is just slightly too big. When you realize you're comfortably full, there's a good inch or two left. You're not going to save an inch of sandwich to eat later, and to throw it out would be sacrelige. You have to eat it, and as a result, you'll be significantly less comfortable for several hours.

The Moody's Falafel Palace Falafel: It's Worth Several Hours' Discomfort. (tm)