The Construction of a Sandwich

Forgive me if this seems a mite insane.
So, you have your bread. Hopefully, a hearty breed of bread, dependant, of course, upon the intentions of one's contents. You're making a Rueben, you get yourself some rye. But, we're not talking Ruebens here.
We're talking about your everyday lunchtime chowdown sandwich. Ham, Turkey, Roast Beef--whatever's not grilled. You want soft bread here.
So, you have your meat. And, indeed, a choice of sliced dairy (or, if one is to go the way of the fancy like boursin, then spreadable dairy).
Now for the fillings--lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, sprouts, onions, avocados--the world of produce is at hand.
And, of course, you have your mustard, or your mayo, or your miracle whip, or your blue-cheese dressings. Just dressings in general.
But let's take a basic sandwich for the purposes of this dissection. You have multigrain sliced bread (supermarket-style). You have sliced smoked turkey. You have your Swiss. You have your Dijon. You have a choice sheaf of lettuce, and you have, well, what else? Maybe onion, maybe tomato if you can find a good one.
My basic question is this, and I think about this a lot:
In what manner does one arrange the sandwich to give off the best flavor.
In other words, if I have cheese against one slice of bread, and turkey against the other, with veggies between--which way of biting into the sandwich gives off the optimal shot of flavor? (Cheese-layer against tongue? Turkey?)
To further the problem, if one chooses to slather one slice with mustard, and one slice with mayo, which elements of the sandwich should be placed against which dressing, and in which manner should one consume?
Well, I know it sounds ridiculous, but I'm always reminded at lunchtime (or, at least, lately) of an Esquire article by Michael Paterniti some years ago about Ferran Adria's restaurant (before, I believe, he became as much of a household name as he's ever going to be, which is now). In said article the author, while dining at said restaurant, observed a man eating solitary at an adjacent table who was constantly staring down his food, getting up and sitting in another seat, tasting, staring, getting up, changing seats, ad nauseum (well, hopefully not). When asked what the hell he was doing, he replied something like, Well, I just can't get a grasp on this food, and why it pleases me so, so this is the only way I can try to make sense of it, to adjust my position with regard to the food, to come at it from a different angle, constantly.
And thus you will find me at lunchtime engaging in a constant rotation of my self-constructed sandwich, attempting to strike upon the best manner in which to place it in my mouth, so my tongue gets the proper ratio of mustard to cheese to the protein-feel of the meat, to the snap of the veggies.
Hmm. Maybe i'm overthinking this. Maybe i'll just go for a burrito from now on.

I am guilty of the same practice, though in my case it's because by the time I pile everything on my sandwich that sounds tasty, I can't get the damn thing in my mouth.

In all seriousness, however, you're not the least bit insane. I've never done an exhaustive study of ingredient placement in a traditional sandwich stack, but the thought has occurred to me on a few occasions.

Crazy? Nah. That's why were here--to pick this stuff apart.

ParkerS wrote:You want soft bread here.

I'd say this is a big assumption. I don't always want soft bread. Often times, when packing a lunch for work, I want a crusty, chewy roll.

When it comes to construction, I have two little idiosyncracies.

First, I prefer cheese to not be directly touching the meat. This is somewhat opposite to the way most deli sandwiches are constructed, but I find that the meat and cheese tend to fuse and meld into one lump creating a different flavor that's neither cheese nor meat, but cheesy-meat. (I can let this slide if I'm eating it immediately.)

Second, I want the mustard to touch the meat, (if mustard is being applied). It seems wrong for me to have them separate.

Best,
Michael

With regard to the bread assumption, I whole-heartedly agree that a good chewy roll is in order many times.
I only meant that, for the purposes of my example, I opted for soft bread.

I too separate the cheese and meat. But, if i have mayo and mustard on my sandwich, oftimes I go with the mayo side (if i'm separating the dressings too) against the meat, and the mustard on the cheese end. I find that mayo and cheese fuse together as well into some amalgamation of richness.

eatchicago wrote:Crazy? Nah. That's why were here--to pick this stuff apart. When it comes to construction, I have two little idiosyncracies.

First, I prefer cheese to not be directly touching the meat. This is somewhat opposite to the way most deli sandwiches are constructed, but I find that the meat and cheese tend to fuse and meld into one lump creating a different flavor that's neither cheese nor meat, but cheesy-meat. (I can let this slide if I'm eating it immediately.)

Second, I want the mustard to touch the meat, (if mustard is being applied). It seems wrong for me to have them separate.

Michael -- Do you also count steps, never step on a crack and flick the lights on and off thirteen times before leaving a room?

Somewhat (very slightly) more seriously, it certainly does make a difference, or several differences, how you layer a sandwich. At the most basic level, let's call it "Structural," you have to put things in there in such a way as they won't simply fall apart in your hands or squish out the sides when you bite in, ruining the front of yet another pair of khakis. This is particularly bad when, as eatchicago observes, the meat and cheese have been allowed to fuse into a single glob of meat-cheese. But that's kid stuff; everybody knows about these Structural concerns, and the impact of poorly adhering to the associated Structural rules is really blatantly obvious (i.e., an unexpected cleaner's bill and the pitying stares of strangers).

I will leave it to greater (or at least clearer) minds than my own to lay the remaining pavers in this conceptual bricolage, except to add my thought that these must surely include something like the "Textural," the "Orientational-Epistemological" (i.e., which way is right side up, and how do you know that?) and, as a second-order or meta-level concern, "Visual-Compositional" and "Phenomenological" (which may fall into such areas of discourse as "taste" or "opinion," which I try scrupulously to avoid, at least while sober).

Well, hot sandwiches such as panini Cubans and burgers require the cheese to touch the meat, no?

Re pre-made "deli" sandwiches, from a practical standpoint, butter or mayo should be spread on the bread first. As Alton Brown points out, the fat protects the absorbent bread from becoming waterlogged. To really watrproof the sammy, consider a fat/cheese layer on the top and the bottom. It's all about substrates. From a flavor and texture standpoint, I always want piled or folded meats on a cold sandwich, but flat for a hot (grilled) sandwich.

And what's all this about soft bread? I've seen criticism of Riviera and Bari because the bread isn't soft enough. Absurd.

BBQ, egg salad, hot dogs and 30's style burgers are exceptions that prove the rule. Have to have squishy white bread there.

JimInLoganSquare wrote:Michael -- Do you also count steps, never step on a crack and flick the lights on and off thirteen times before leaving a room? Wink

This was really only a statement of preference, rather than an obessive need. Since ParkerS wanted to get all detail-specific on sandwich construction, why not play along?

JeffB wrote:Well, hot sandwiches such as panini Cubans and burgers require the cheese to touch the meat, no?

Yes, yes, but I was under the impression that we were talking about deli/brown-bag lunchmeat sandwiches.

JeffB wrote:BBQ, egg salad, hot dogs and 30's style burgers are exceptions that prove the rule. Have to have squishy white bread there.

I've come to really enjoy a chicken salad sandwich on a soft onion roll with lettuce, onion, and hot giardiniera from Finkl's Deli downtown. The squishy roll really makes it for me in this case.

Best,
Michael

I firmly believe that any tomato slices need to go next to the bread so that the tomato juices can seep into the bread and not onto my chest. [Built the way I am, things don't make it to my lap very often .]

I agree that having the mustard next to the meat is fine, and the mayo/cheese richness combo does enhance the sandwich, but given a choice between putting the meat or the tomato slice next to the bread, the tomato slice wins.

Giovanna

Giovanna wrote:I firmly believe that any tomato slices need to go next to the bread so that the tomato juices can seep into the bread and not onto my chest.

Yes, that sounds right. I never consciously thought about it much but I'm sure I always do it that way.

*

I agree that having the mustard next to the meat is fine, and the mayo/cheese richness combo does enhance the sandwich, but given a choice between putting the meat or the tomato slice next to the bread, the tomato slice wins.

I recently made a mozzarella and prosciutto sandwich and, because someone else at table was busy with the prosciutto, I laid down the sliced mozzarella on the bottom piece of the bread. The prosciutto, when eventually available, had to go on top. This disturbed me, even though the sandwich tasted pretty much the way it always does.

I think that's a bit mad.

*

JeffB wrote:And what's all this about soft bread? I've seen criticism of Riviera and Bari because the bread isn't soft enough. Absurd.

Yea verily. I proudly broke an old filling yesterday whilst processing an excellent sandwich made with very fresh and perfectly dark-baked sour dough bread from Ferrara's. I've said it before: I wish the take-out sandwiches at the Italian deli counters around town offered as a basic option the highest grade Italian bread, alongside the more popular softer product.


Antonius

HI,

While many enjoy contemplating extravagant sandwich preparations, there are minimalists out there:

- My Mom cheerfully applied mustard to bread, which was her only filling, then slapped another piece of bread on top.
- My best friend growing up always took a sandwich to school consisting of bread and margarine. Her Mom would inquire if she had her lunch and she'd whip it out, though I am certain her Mom expected there was meat inside.
- My Oma grew up eating German sour rye bread with sour cream slathered on top. Once she discovered Lipton's California Dip (dried onion soup mixed into sour cream), then she applied the dip to the bread and sprinkled dried onions on top.
- I have seen this sandwich in Germany as well as in Russia with the very same German name: butterbrot. Literally it is butter on bread and almost always a slice of cheese or meat. In winter, I like butterbrot - the cheese variant - with a cup of tea. This is comfort food for me.
- Open face sandwiches with a wedge of pate or head cheese or sardines or lox.

Now at the other end of the spectrum is Yourpalwill's signature sandwich at the Riviera on Harlem:

In a particular fit of gluttony, I ran the gamut of the meat case to have them prepare what is proudly known today as the Will Special: Hot Sopressata; Hot Cappicola: Salame de Prosciutto; Prosciutto Ham; (Roast Beef on Fridays was added a few months later);fresh mozzarella, a just a bit of hot giardinera on a roll I picked myself from the bread bin.

Regards,

Cathy2 wrote:HI,

While many enjoy contemplating extravagant sandwich preparations, there are minimalists out there...

- I have seen this sandwich in Germany as well as in Russia with the very same German name: butterbrot. Literally it is butter on bread and almost always a slice of cheese or meat. In winter, I like butterbrot - the cheese variant - with a cup of tea. This is comfort food for me.
- Open face sandwiches with a wedge of pate or head cheese or sardines or lox.

Generally speaking, I tend toward the minimalist approach, either the openfaced Butterbrot or boterham or, as my Prussian relatives would say, Stulle, or a simply filled piece of a long loaf... bread, here butter, and in the one case sausage, in the other cheese:


http://lthforum.com/bb/viewtopic.php?p=50684#50684

Antonius

Giovanna wrote:I firmly believe that any tomato slices need to go next to the bread so that the tomato juices can seep into the bread and not onto my chest.

Yes. And if you pile slippery veggies between the meat and the cheese, it squirts when you bite in.

Cathy2,

Simple German-style sandwiches that I suspect you and your Oma do or would like as much as I...

Noch eenije einfache Stullen, diese mit Fleesch un' Käse von bei den Hans (Meyers):

'Ne scheene Stulle mit Westfälischem Schinken:


Un' noch eene mit Schweinebauch, Tilsiter Käs' un' 'n bißken Senf («'ne Klappstulle» kann man sagen, wenn et 'n zweite Scheibe Brot jibt):


Sehr lecker waren se.

Antonius Teutonicus

The first time I went to Europe, age 17, I was shocked to discover they didn't put anything on their sandwiches. (Or if they did, it was butter.)

A few bites later, of course, I understood-- the meat and cheese (not to mention the bread) had flavor in and of themselves, something American commercial products all too rarely do. They didn't need the help, indeed it would get in the way to pile on a heavy condiment and other stuff to the sandwich (though a little mustard is often welcome). One of the great pleasures of Riviera, for instance, is just getting a sandwich with nothing but fresh bread, strong salami of some sort and a slightly funky cheese, and savoring all those good things with no distraction.

The schinken, ham, from Delicatessen Meyer that Antonius shows above is also a good example. It's quite powerful and funky, more of what we'd call a prosciutto taste than an American ham taste; I wouldn't make a ham and cheese with mayo for the kids with it, but it is one of the city's fine unsung meat products and could probably be used very happily in a lot of recipes that call for more expensive products like prosciutto or jamon serrano. (It's also just a fun shop to go into because it really is one of the last with true German character, as opposed to being run by Eastern Europeans with some German products.)

Delicatessen Meyer
4750 N Lincoln Ave.
Chicago, IL 60625
(773) 561-3377
www.delicatessenmeyer.com

Riviera Italian Imported Foods
3220 N Harlem Ave
Chicago, IL 60634
773-637-4252

The schinken, ham, from Delicatessen Meyer that Antonius shows above is also a good example. It's quite powerful and funky, more of what we'd call a prosciutto taste than an American ham taste; I wouldn't make a ham and cheese with mayo for the kids with it, but it is one of the city's fine unsung meat products and could probably be used very happily in a lot of recipes that call for more expensive products like prosciutto or jamon serrano.

Imported Westphalian ham is in my experience fairly expensive and roughly comparable in price to imported Italian prosciutto (and the less easily found Spanish serrano), though specific products and specific shops bring a certain degree of variation into the picture and absurdly high prices for prosciutto and the increasingly trendy serrano are certainly to be encountered in some stores. When we got the ham pictured above a couple of weeks ago, it was the same price as I had paid a few days before for an imported Italian prosciutto (ca. $16 per lb.)

Certainly one can substitute one ham for another but I myself would not substitute the Westphalian for either the Spanish or the Italian cured hams -- at least not in any traditional Italian or Spanish dishes -- for the German product is smoked and traditionally quite strongly smoky in taste, whereas the other cured hams are not smoked at all.

Antonius

for the German product is smoked and traditionally quite strongly smoky in taste, whereas the other cured hams are not smoked at all.

Exactly why it might be interesting to try in certain dishes which offer latitude for improvisation, for instance, "hummus soup"...

What about non-meat sandwiches such as the following?

^^^^^

I don't know if I'd be bastardizing it, but I'd love to put a bunch of good giradiniera on that caprese sandwich pictured above.

gmonkey wrote:I don't know if I'd be bastardizing it, but I'd love to put a bunch of good giradiniera on that caprese sandwich pictured above.

Hot damn, what a delicious idea!

Hummm, maybe a bit of hot capicola, soprassata and...........I wonder if it's too hot for a Will Special at Riviera today?

Ach Antonius! Du bist ein Bösen Bub--Dein Schinken Brot sieht so ganz gut aus!!

But here's a local bit to add: I'm at my brother's place in Winchester VA, right up in the Blue Ridge. We went out foraging this morning and, after a stop at the Rt. 11 Potato Chip Factory (damn! but ain't those good chips?), we discovered by pure chance a new meat market selling only local meat. They had Old Dominion country hams, from nearby Edinburgh, which I talked the lady (matron of the producing farm) into slicing proscuitto-thin. Oh boy oh boy: now THERE's some piggy. For dinner tonicht with slices of local cantalope, and simple bread, ham and butter sandwiches. I'll try to get some pix. Antonius, it ain't Schwarzwalder Schinken, but it has its own genuine virtues.

Geo


http://www.rt11.com/


http://www.wholesomefoodsinc.com/shopping.cfm#odhams