Posts Tagged ‘sandwiches’
Kelly Pratt loves sandwiches…
I’ve set out to make the sandwich for each of the 50 states as a fun way to work on my photography and design skills. It will be quite a delicious journey across the US. Before I make each sandwich I do research on the Internet, call local sandwich shops, ask foodies on twitter and check out a few books to be sure I do my best to properly represent a state.
I may have grown up on the east coast but I was brought up with mid-western values. My mom was born and raised in Minnesota so it was only fitting to make the fried walleye sandwich on Mother’s Day — complete with a virtual bite!
My interest in cooking is a direct reflection of my mom. Although I was convinced everything I ate growing up was chicken, I can assure it was likely a tender leg of lamb [an Ann Hughes specialty] or perfectly grilled flank steak. And no matter what day it was, all four of us sat down and ate a candlelight dinner as a family.
Before I moved to Chicago, I was working with my parents and lucky enough to eat lunch with them every day. Now my mom and I are always quick to share our latest and greatest recipes with each other so we don’t miss out!
According to my mother, fish is meant to be fried on Fridays (I hope Minnesotans can forgive me for making their sandwich on a Sunday). When I told her I was using crushed up saltines to coat the fish she was reassured of the sandwich’s authenticity…
Gorge on geography at Stately Sandwiches.
As we ask for extra mayo, we might– of might not– recall that it was on this date in 1987 that the Harmonic Convergence began. Foretold by José Argüelles (based on a reading of ancient Mayan texts), the Convergence was the world’s “first synchronized meditation.”
The belief was that if 144,000 people assembled at “power centers” (like Mt. Fuji and Chaco Canyon) and meditated for peace, the arrival of the new era would be facilitated.
In the event, it appears that Doonesbury may have nailed it when the strip described the event as a ”moronic convergence…sort of a national fruit loops day, lots of wind chimes…”
Who among us has not dreamt of achieving that apex of achievement, having a sandwich named for us.
John Peck has imagined the menu in the ultimate rock and roll cafe, where one can select among such sandwiches as…
ABBA: Reindeer paté, candied rose petals, white bread.
Sex Pistols: Deep-fried Frank Sinatra LP, Russian mustard, spackle, tacks, stale rye bread.
Guns ’n Roses: Bacon-double cheeseburger, bittermelon jelly, Rogain aioli, sliced glazed donut.
Neil Young: Cubed ham, Kraft macaroni and cheese, blackened Anaheim peppers, 18-grain Anasazi bread.
Rolling Stones: Beef tongue, caviar, platinum-coated fried onions, ketchup, white bread.
Beach Boys: Grilled chicken breast, mustard, lettuce, SPF-50 sunscreen aioli, crispy fried peyote bits, white bread.
The Doors: Beer-battered fried chicken, mescaline ketchup, Navajo fry bread.
Huey Lewis and the News: Butterflied hot dog, pizza sauce, Cheez-Whiz, Dutch crunch.
Hall and Oates:Tuna salad, diet coleslaw, pomade, hamburger bun.
Prince: Braised peacock cheeks, lavender spread, mustard, mayo, baguette.
Grateful Dead: Lemon verbena sorbet, peanut butter, clarified hemp butter, deep-fried brownie bites, M&Ms, stale focaccia.
David Bowie: Curried snow leopard, mayo, garlic naan.
The Kinks: Roast beef, balsamic cigarette-butt reduction, dark rye.
John Cage: Silence, warmth, indirect sunlight, the memory of lettuce, the idea of bread.
Velvet Underground: Salami, cheddar, shredded pre-war 1000-Deutschmark bills, oil paint, heroin gravy, French roll.
Depeche Mode: Chicken breast, Swiss cheese, grilled suede, fried onions, mascara aioli, seeded baguette.
Ramones: Sliced hot dog, amphetamine ketchup, mustard, relish, white bread.
Many more delights at “Bandwiches,” In McSweeney’s.
As we ask for extra mayo, we might recall that it was on this date in 1989 when Rod Stewart (pulled-pork, shredded cabbage, Newcastle Brown Ale- Vaseline barbeque sauce, white bread) hit his head while on stage and knocked himself out in the middle of a performance.