Making the perfect sandwich is an activity fraught with difficulty. Sure, it is easy enough to place a couple of slices of ham between two thin pieces of plastic bread or cut open a roll and spread with a liberal layer of mayonnaise before adding a hastily cut tomato and some tasteless cheddar but this is mere sustenance rather than the gastronomic perfection that a sandwich can offer. And I’m sure you know me well enough by now to know that a basic butty would not be enough to satisfy.
The beauty of a sandwich lies in its inherent simplicity but that simplicity can also be its downfall: if each element is not perfect then the whole thing disappoints and serves to stave off hunger rather than create a perfect food moment. And before I go any further I’d like to point out that it really isn’t about cost, I’m not snobby about these things and there are times when a stack of watery wafer thin ham and three Kraft cheese singles wedged between two slices of Warbutons bread can hit the spot like nothing else. To go even further, a few minutes under the grill or in a Breville and you’ve got the food of the gods. But it wouldn’t be right to do this in rye bread, for example and this is at the heart of what I am trying to say: the elements have to fit. A burger wouldn’t be right in a bagel, a toastie in a teacake is just plain wrong and smoked salmon and cream cheese just wouldn’t taste right in cornbread. A hot dog should be served in a fluffy white roll, brie belongs on a baguette and a chip barm cake could come in nothing other than, well, a barm cake.
The origins of the sandwich are often attributed to John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich and is one of the more famous stories in food history. The legend has it that he enjoyed eating meat between two slices of bread because it allowed him to continue playing cribbage without getting the cards greasy. Although the Earl may have popularised the eating of sandwiches, and gave his name to the snack, they have been around in various forms since the first century BCE and no doubt prior to that as well. What hasn’t changed is the convenience and the speed with which they can be created and eaten. It takes very little skill to create a butty worthy of consumption but perhaps a little more to craft a memorable one. The £85 sandwich on sale at Selfridges, for example, probably contains a bit more than the ubiquitous ham and cheese as it was, until recently the most expensive sandwich in the world, an honour that now belongs to a £100 creation available at Cliveden House, Berkshire and containing Iberico Ham, white truffles and quails’ eggs.
My budget doesn’t quite stretch to that, at least not yet (and even if it did I am uncertain as to whether I could part with £100 for bread and filling) but I still enjoy creating and eating the humble sandwich especially with some unusual ingredients which arrived in the form of Serrano ham and Manchego cheese, a gift from my parents brought back from their recent trip to Majorca. Freshly baked wholemeal bread, homemade mayonnaise, a generous wedge of the cheese, a slightly decadent number of slices of the ham, some thinly sliced Spanish tomato (I have no idea how they managed to get that back on the plane without it exploding into a red mush in a suitcase) and a handful of baby spinach. OK, it might just have been a ham and cheese sandwich but that didn’t stop it from being damned tasty.
www.justcookit.blogspot.com
Friday, February 22, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Bill’s a legend
February 15
Straddling the peninsula that makes up the northern bit of New Zealand’s North Island is the pulsing metropolis of Auckland. The city is home to a full quarter of the country’s population, and apparently the object of scorn and hostility for the other three quarters of New Zealanders, which is pretty much what you would expect. As a New Yorker, I can sympathize.
Locals complain about crowds and traffic, but although Auckland is the largest city for more than a thousand miles — until you reach Sydney — it still has just about 1.3 million people.
Kevin Parish, Bill King and I arrived there yesterday and immediately headed to the Villa Maria winery, where we met representatives from Family of 12, a coalition of a dozen winemakers that have joined together to market themselves.
We met representatives from a few of those wineries and were taken to a large table in a board room where, to my horror, each place setting was appointed with 28 glasses and a spittoon.
A wine tasting.
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: I don’t like tasting wine. I like drinking it. Wine is meant to be enjoyed with food — one variety, or possibly on a weird night two, per course at maximum — not to be swirled, smelled, slurped and spit out by the dozen. Now, if you're a winemaker, a sommelier, a beverage consultant, a wine buyer or a wine writer, you have to taste wine. It’s your job.
And that’s one reason I'm none of those.
Still, I was a guest, and if your hosts want you to taste 28 wines, you taste them.
And they did apologize in advance, acknowledging that working through 28 wines was not the ideal way to appreciate them, but what else could they do?
Swirling, smelling and slurping are really perfectly fine things to do, but the spitting, oh the spitting.
I'm a bad spitter. Sloppy. The wine got caught in my beard. It dripped on my notes. I drenched my napkin wiping my mouth and, to the credit of my hosts, one of them handed me another napkin.
It was both nice and deeply humiliating that they were paying attention.
I did my best. If I tasted or smelled something distinctive, I said so. “Lychee!” I said. And “smoke!”
Bill later thanked me for drawing their attention away from him, so he could taste in peace.
Bill is a great and powerful man. He tried 28 wines without spitting. Or so he claims, and I believe him, even though I think I would have fallen down.
After the tasting — first of Sauvignon Blancs, then one Chenin Blanc, and on to Chardonnay, Riesling, nine (9!) Pinot Noirs and finally Bordeaux blends — we chatted, and I picked some of my favorite Pinots and sipped them, actually swallowing.
The representatives from Family of 12 said they were going to concentrate on presenting Chardonnay in the United States at the NRA show, since that’s what Americans like. Bill suggested that perhaps they shouldn’t be focusing on such a crowded market, although he admitted that since New Zealand was sort of a blank slate in the minds of American consumers, he wasn’t sure the best way for them to proceed.
We both restated the notion that, as a small country, New Zealand should aim for niche markets and charge higher prices. Bill said that for Pinots in particular they should be charging more so that they’ll be taken seriously.
From Villa Maria we went to Auckland’s Viaduct Harbor (excuse me, Harbour) for dinner at Soul.
Being an American, I expect meals at restaurants in touristy parts of town to be boring at best, but at Soul chef Gareth Stewart’s food was creative and delicious.
Of course it didn’t hurt that we were being specially looked after by owner Judith Tabron.
We told her about our tasting that afternoon and Bill confessed that he didn’t spit, at which Judith memorably declared: “You’re a legend!”
Then she sent out three wines per course, and so I take back what I just said about two wines per course being the maximum acceptable number. Three works.
I had a beer first, actually, a Speight’s Gold Ale
Then with my smoked paprika-spiced prawns on grilled watermelon with cucumber and mint relish
, Judith gave us two Marlborough Sauvignon Blancs — S. Claire and Brancott — and an Aurum Riesling from Central Otago.
Then with my roasted rump and braised shoulder of lamb with garlic confit and slow cooked pukekohe onion, she served three Pinot Noirs — 2006 Te Tera from Martinborough, 2005 Tohu Reserve from Marlborough, and 2006 Bannock Brae from Central Otago.
Having drunk six glasses of wine, I didn’t photograph the desserts, which were a lemon tart with raspberry essence, buttermilk sherbet and a bitter chocolate marquis.
We also had a Whitestone Moeraki Bay blue cheese from Oamaru (south of Christchurch).
We drank a No. 1 Family Estate Cuvée from Marlborough, a Pegasus Bay noble Chardonnay from Waipara, and a Cottage Block noble Riesling from Marlborough.
Kevin did not drink with us as he had to drive us to the country town of Matakana, where we were staying at Quest, a collection of townhouses, of which we each got one. So I had a kitchen, a living room, bedroom and two bathrooms. Two televisions, too.
Straddling the peninsula that makes up the northern bit of New Zealand’s North Island is the pulsing metropolis of Auckland. The city is home to a full quarter of the country’s population, and apparently the object of scorn and hostility for the other three quarters of New Zealanders, which is pretty much what you would expect. As a New Yorker, I can sympathize.
Locals complain about crowds and traffic, but although Auckland is the largest city for more than a thousand miles — until you reach Sydney — it still has just about 1.3 million people.
Kevin Parish, Bill King and I arrived there yesterday and immediately headed to the Villa Maria winery, where we met representatives from Family of 12, a coalition of a dozen winemakers that have joined together to market themselves.
We met representatives from a few of those wineries and were taken to a large table in a board room where, to my horror, each place setting was appointed with 28 glasses and a spittoon.
A wine tasting.
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: I don’t like tasting wine. I like drinking it. Wine is meant to be enjoyed with food — one variety, or possibly on a weird night two, per course at maximum — not to be swirled, smelled, slurped and spit out by the dozen. Now, if you're a winemaker, a sommelier, a beverage consultant, a wine buyer or a wine writer, you have to taste wine. It’s your job.
And that’s one reason I'm none of those.
Still, I was a guest, and if your hosts want you to taste 28 wines, you taste them.
And they did apologize in advance, acknowledging that working through 28 wines was not the ideal way to appreciate them, but what else could they do?
Swirling, smelling and slurping are really perfectly fine things to do, but the spitting, oh the spitting.
I'm a bad spitter. Sloppy. The wine got caught in my beard. It dripped on my notes. I drenched my napkin wiping my mouth and, to the credit of my hosts, one of them handed me another napkin.
It was both nice and deeply humiliating that they were paying attention.
I did my best. If I tasted or smelled something distinctive, I said so. “Lychee!” I said. And “smoke!”
Bill later thanked me for drawing their attention away from him, so he could taste in peace.
Bill is a great and powerful man. He tried 28 wines without spitting. Or so he claims, and I believe him, even though I think I would have fallen down.
After the tasting — first of Sauvignon Blancs, then one Chenin Blanc, and on to Chardonnay, Riesling, nine (9!) Pinot Noirs and finally Bordeaux blends — we chatted, and I picked some of my favorite Pinots and sipped them, actually swallowing.
The representatives from Family of 12 said they were going to concentrate on presenting Chardonnay in the United States at the NRA show, since that’s what Americans like. Bill suggested that perhaps they shouldn’t be focusing on such a crowded market, although he admitted that since New Zealand was sort of a blank slate in the minds of American consumers, he wasn’t sure the best way for them to proceed.
We both restated the notion that, as a small country, New Zealand should aim for niche markets and charge higher prices. Bill said that for Pinots in particular they should be charging more so that they’ll be taken seriously.
From Villa Maria we went to Auckland’s Viaduct Harbor (excuse me, Harbour) for dinner at Soul.
Being an American, I expect meals at restaurants in touristy parts of town to be boring at best, but at Soul chef Gareth Stewart’s food was creative and delicious.
Of course it didn’t hurt that we were being specially looked after by owner Judith Tabron.
We told her about our tasting that afternoon and Bill confessed that he didn’t spit, at which Judith memorably declared: “You’re a legend!”
Then she sent out three wines per course, and so I take back what I just said about two wines per course being the maximum acceptable number. Three works.
I had a beer first, actually, a Speight’s Gold Ale
Then with my smoked paprika-spiced prawns on grilled watermelon with cucumber and mint relish
, Judith gave us two Marlborough Sauvignon Blancs — S. Claire and Brancott — and an Aurum Riesling from Central Otago.Then with my roasted rump and braised shoulder of lamb with garlic confit and slow cooked pukekohe onion, she served three Pinot Noirs — 2006 Te Tera from Martinborough, 2005 Tohu Reserve from Marlborough, and 2006 Bannock Brae from Central Otago.
Having drunk six glasses of wine, I didn’t photograph the desserts, which were a lemon tart with raspberry essence, buttermilk sherbet and a bitter chocolate marquis.
We also had a Whitestone Moeraki Bay blue cheese from Oamaru (south of Christchurch).
We drank a No. 1 Family Estate Cuvée from Marlborough, a Pegasus Bay noble Chardonnay from Waipara, and a Cottage Block noble Riesling from Marlborough.
Kevin did not drink with us as he had to drive us to the country town of Matakana, where we were staying at Quest, a collection of townhouses, of which we each got one. So I had a kitchen, a living room, bedroom and two bathrooms. Two televisions, too.
A Little Help!!!!!
This year, I have the honor and pleasure of participating in MDA's DeWitt Lock Up 2008 to help "Jerry's Kids®". To reach my goal I need your help! I'd like to include you on my list of contributors who are helping me reach my goal. Your donation would help MDA continue the important fight against muscular dystrophy. Check out my web page by clicking on the link below. There you'll find all kinds of information about MDA, and be able to make your tax-deductible donation on-line using your credit card.
MDA serves people in our community with neuromuscular disease by providing clinics, support groups, assistance with the purchase and repair of wheelchairs, braces and communication devices, and summer camp for kids. MDA also funds research grants to help find treatments and cures for some 43 neuromuscular diseases that affect people of all ages, right here in our community. I sincerely hope that you'll take the opportunity to support MDA. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call or e-mail me.
On behalf of the families MDA serves, thank you!
If the link above does not bring you to my Participant Page, cut and paste the address below into the address bar of your internet browser.
Body and Soul
Romans 5:1-11
"Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us."
"Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us."
I just got back from a workout at the Rec Center - a little biking, a little running, a lot of sweating. Since the summer of 2006 I have been training for and participating in triathlons: Sprint and olympic distances. What that means is swimming either a half mile or mile; biking either 12.4 miles or 24.8 miles; and finishing with a run of either 3.1 miles or 6.2 miles. One right after the other. My youngest son, Keegan, inspired me with his efforts in that realm. I was also inspired by my older son, Jesse, who was running a half-marathon and my wife, Sue who had run an 11 mile race. I have done races with each of the boys and the three of us raced in the Des Moines Hy-Vee Triathlon (olympic distance) in June of 2007.
To be honest my competitive nature kicked in and that is why I wanted to race. Well... they raced and I survived.
But it has given me hope. Hope born out of suffering and enduring and a change in my character. I am still competitive but against myself more than anything. I have lost weight and know that my physical health has improved. But more importantly I have used the time that I workout as a time for meditation and prayer. It clears my thoughts and opens my soul for the possibilities that the Holy Spirit offers.
Consider a way to exercise both your body and soul. Let it be an experience of God that gives you hope.
Just a thought,
P.C.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The Artist Chef on QTV 11
After my first TV appearance last year in ABC 5's Island Flavors (hosted by Gigi Angkaw), here's another one to check out! On February 25, 2008, Monday 10-11pm watch out for "THE BEAT" on QTV 11, Hosted by Miriam Quiambao and Ivan Mayrina. Correspondent Tonypet Gaba of Art Angel will be the one to interview me. Since its ARTS month this February they will feature Chefs that also have talents in the ARTS. Aside from my cooking THE BEAT will also showcase my paintings. Please watch!
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