August 5, 2011
dear clusterflock
Are there genres of sandwich?
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comments:
- Joel Bernstein: I know right?
- Rick Neece: Being nice is a dainty way to put it.
- Rick Neece: Hey Cristopher? Who cried “uncle” first, at the end of your ten-year stand-off? To quote my...
- Michael Smith: Ours is the kitchen.
- Amy Mabli: That’s what happens when you give the dogs the bed.
- Deron Bauman: Sweet Jesus.
- Michael Smith: Don’t we all.
- Pam: I have a story coming out soon in a ‘little mag’, Chicago Quarterly Review. An old friend recently...
- Pam: And I thought, somedays, that my work was meaningless…
- Pam: I remember Eggleston at the Art Institute in Chicago a couple years ago. He was elegantly dressed in a dark suit...
- Christopher Walken: Hey Clusterflockers, Realize y’all are hurting. I’ve been a really close friend of my...
- Marco: This works pretty well in mobile, more so in iOS
- Michael Smith: It was not the intent of management to imply all sissies are “namby pamby”. Management was...
- Rick Neece: I take umbrage with the term “namby pamby.” Some sissies are fierce.
- Carole Corlew: Shelia. Happy no big deal day. I would start your very own post but this phone is in semi rebellion.
I used to think of there being categories of food in a Platonic sense. Sandwiches, burritos, and wraps all falling under an as yet unnamed category.
Yes. There’s at least mystery and feel-good, with romance as a sub-genre of the latter.
Romancing the Sandwich: the title of my next photography series.
I’d argue for fantasy, too. The Dagwood?
Dude, I forgot about The Dagwood!
I think there are definitely nationalities, not sure about genres.
I make postmodern deconstructionist sandwiches.
Joel, are those $1000 a sandwich?
You are not buying a visible piece of art; you are buying the title and description card for the imagined artwork.
I’ll have my art dealer contact your art dealer.
Muffuletta.
Open-faced sandwich. This can be included in the prissy tea sandwich category, which I specialize in and dearly love.
I feel like my food autism should have more to say about this.
I’m sure you’re just getting warmed up, Deron.
Usually it manifests toward certainty, but in this case, I’m simply certain I like sandwiches.
Food autism?
Ruhee, I apologize in advance.
Fluffernutter.
Mary wins.
Ruhee, the important thing to remember is to never, under any circumstances, offer Deron a citrus dessert. Really. Don’t do it.
Also, any sandwich with sprouts and cucumbers in it falls in the Shit genre.
This is what I imagine happens when Deron is given a citrus dessert.
I offered Amy some blood orange gelato the other night. Because Amy is normal.
Yes, psychologically.
I, in fact, had forgotten about Fluffernutter (probably for the best).
Deron, this world of dessert autism is magnificent.
That was in response to Joel, not Cindy.
I knew someone would see it eventually.
Le canapé, c’est un genre.
The foods are sometimes highly processed and decoratively applied.
Dessert autism.
Are canapés sandwiches? I guess some of them are.
What if sandwiches were categorized according to the people who most prefer them? The Grandma. The Hippie Foodie. The Food Autist. (Autist?)
Sandwich loaf.
A hamburger is a sandwich. Is a hot dog? A corn dog?
A hot dog is a sandwich, but a corn dog is cousin to chicken-fried steak. It is a means by which you conceal an iffy bit of meat by breading and frying it.
Sandwich taxonomy.
The category ‘sandwich,’ and classification within the category.
I’m working on it.
Once you admit ‘corn dog’ into the broad category of ‘sandwich,’ you risk sliding down a slippery slope. True, your corn dog shares with your grilled sandwich (your Monte Cristo, say, or your classic grilled cheese) this commonality: the adhesion (produced by the application of heat) of a form of bread-stuff and a ‘filling’.
Yet is there not something that distinguishes your corn dog from your grilled sandwich?
I’m working on it.
I think a sandwich requires bread. As distinguished from breading.
Maybe it’s the filling itself. Things that are flat or can be flattened = sandwich, sausage/weiner = not sandwich?
Also, Sheila, I had never known what a sandwich loaf actually was. I don’t know how to feel about it except for slightly terrified that such a thing exists.
Fucking library school.
Cindy: that’s where I’m heading. Bread is a distinct entity, even if welded to a filling through the application of heat. Breading cannot stand alone, hence a breaded food substance cannot be a sandwich.
Ruhee: Here’s a dirty little secret. Sandwich loaf is really really good. In a dirty little secret way. I could blindfold you and feed it to you, and you would moan with pleasure and beg for more.
I know that sounded nasty.
Never apologize. Never explain.
My Canadian upbringing didn’t know what to do with the idea of sandwich loaf!
I will hold you to it, Sheila: if ever we meet I will try sandwich loaf with you.
Ruhee, so long as you give me twenty-four hours’ notice, it should be fine. Last weekend I met a road-tripping Canadian friend here in my corner of northwestern Illinois. He texted me at 7:30 AM to say he’d arrive around noon. The best we could do was eat pizza and drink beer at a local eatery.
Sandwich loaf requires a bit of an advance, but give me 24-36 hours, and I think I can work the magic.
Shelia, sandwich loaf sounds awesome. There really needs to be a clusterflock cookbook.
A whole chapter on citrus desserts.
I’ll write it.
Related to sandwich loaf: this Smörgåstårta video posted by Kelsey a couple of months ago.
That is a most excellent idea, Erica. And yes, Deron, you are the man. We all would have contributions, of course. But how to choose? Pickled Lemons, Pesto Carole Ann, Brown Eyed Susans, Madeleines, and slap you into the creek Pecan Pie Squares (just renamed that one thanks to Shelia’s post on her friend Blaine’s documentary).
Except when I share the Pecan Pie Squares too often I am accused of leaving something out or otherwise obfuscating because this one is reluctant to perform for anyone other than my Signal Mountain friend Cindy and me. The crust is similar to a lemon squares base, but will firm up too much if you’re not careful. So you have to remind it to solidify, but not too much. “Stay soft, now,” is a good thing to say to it, for instance, as you keep your eye on the oven timer.
You are so right, Carole, about the need to speak softly to some dishes. Coax or seduce them into doing your bidding.
No, I meant the citrus dessert chapter. I’m not an asshole.
Hey, Deron. I have a few suggestions for your chapter. I’m pretty sure Aaron has a couple as well. We’ll help you. No, really. That’s just the kind of friends we are.
I hope you’re not offended if I spit into the sink.
Deron, I think there needs to be a whole chapter for greens. I think I need many Southern style recipes too.
Ruhee’s project manager on this one.
And Cindy, Aaron’s probably too busy to give any input on the citrus dessert chapter today. He’s at the Rick Perry day of prayer.
I volunteer for the things-pretending-to-be-other-things chapter. Sandwich loaf. Et cetera.
Things I know have to be in there: Amy’s family recipe for Sunday gravy, Cindy’s enchiladas, Danny’s biscuits, India’s gluten free chocolate cake, Dave’s balsamic and cream strawberry canapés (or whatever they were). Delicious!
Sheila, I have a recipe for bagged bananas, but I think that came from you.
Dave’s strawberry bruschetta! Yes! Yes! Yes!
And India’s chocolate cake! And Danny’s biscuits! And Cindy’s enchiladas!
And I just know Amy’s gravy is good.
Once I perfect my smörgåstårta, you will want that, too.
I make a good beans and rice.
Beans and rice: food of the gods.
I know Phil makes quite a lot of risotto.
I’m getting really hungry.
And I know I want Cece’s “slap you into the creek” Pecan Pie Squares and her pesto and her pickled lemons.
I want all of that as well.
I’m getting really hungry too.
I think this cookbook has to become a reality … there are so many good things here already! I have a recipe for chocolate cheesecake balls from my boyfriend’s mother that would probably do well in it.
I agree, and I was serious, too. Ruhee, you want to pull this thing together?
Phew! Yes, sure — I could do that.
Who wants to help?
I’ll be happy to do light editing and proofing.
And eating.
Oh yeah, the eating part is going to be glorious.
Anyone know a good printer?
I will donate my stomach and photography skills.
Also, Sheila, perhaps we should take your comment and use it as the subtitle. The Clusterflock Cookbook: Never Apologize, Never Explain.
Perfect, Ruhee. Don’t you all think so?
I know I neither apologized for nor explained my Exploding Szechuan Cabbage. I blamed it on the drugs.
Yes, Ruhee, that is the perfect title.
This is fantastic. I’d like to add Miss Nell’s Skillet Flip Cornbread. I’ve talked about this. She bakes it in an iron skillet, takes it out midway, holds the skillet by the handle and FLIP!
She is 91. A piece of work. When I was driving her back from the lake over twisty country roads a couple of weeks ago, she tapped me on the knee and said, “Hey, how about speeding it up. I’ve got things to do.” I said, “I am not going over the speed limit. The law is always hiding back here.” She said, “Well, it is NOT 45, you can go faster.” We argued a while. Finally we saw a sign, 45. We got home. Brother-in-law got home later with sister and Mr. B. He had gotten pulled over for speeding.
I am beginning to think of this project as something like Ernest Mickler’s White Trash Cooking. Not in the sense of featuring “white trash” recipes, but in the sense of being a kind of off-the-wall ethnographic/literary/artistic/culinary what-have-you. Is that too ambitious?
“I’ve got things to do.” That is wonderful, Cece. Miss Nell is a bird.
Damn, Deron! I just saw your bagged bananas comment and am spewing.
In more than one way. The smell of bananas makes me retch. I’d rather smell the Dallas dump.
You’re welcome.
Cece, will you bring Miss Nell to the next clusterflockstock?
Speaking of clusterflockstock, was there going to be another in NYC later? I think I missed the resolution of that discussion.
Carole, I remember you talking about that cornbread … a perfect cookbook addition.
What a fantastic idea. I know Danny will offer up the biscuit recipe. Andrew will tell you I’m no cook. We passed through July “batching it” what with Danny in Columbia three days a week for school. Andrew and I mostly ate pizza (Papa Murphy’s take and bake) and grilled burgers which I did perfect and change up. Fixing one time grilled high-fiber english muffins and the next grilled sourdough. Under-cooked the burgers the first time, over-cooked the next. Roughly, 5 minutes on a hot grill on one side, 3 more on the other. Throw (your choice) the bread, spread with olive oil, oil side down on when the burgers flip. We’ve both developed an affinity for Costco’s frozen, seasoned waffle fries. Pop the fries onto crinkled foil and into 425 degrees 25 minutes flip once in the middle, open the condiments–dill slices, rough ground dijon, Hellman’s Real, slice beefsteaks, wash a couple leaves of lettuce and everything’s ready.
Flop on the couch, flip on The Mighty Boosh. Good eatin’. Done early enough for Andrew to get to WOW on time. Or for me, a couple hours on the patio with all y’all.
Needs work, but maybe I have a recipe afterall.
Cece, I love that story. “I’ve got things to do…” And I’m sure her things are better than anything I have going on.
That is an excellent cookbook entry, Rick. Just as you write it. Exactly that.
And Deron and Rick, you know Miss Nell won’t have time for Clusterstock. I hope to get her on video showing her cornbread flip prowess, though.
Rick, I wonder whether Andrew battles Mr. Boudreaux and his band of 17-year-old WOW warriors in Northern Virginia.
… who are mall ratting at the moment, on another mission. Still.