There really isn’t a defining moment that caused my aversion to sandwiches. Maybe it all stemmed from those countless sandwiches I found in my childhood lunchbox all throughout elementary school. No offense to my mum who made those sandwiches – because hey, there are only so many things you can pack in a lunch box every day (I often pack sandwiches for my work lunches because PB&J is just so handy when there are no leftovers!) – but when my 10-year-old self was just getting acclimated to a newly developed sweet tooth, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich just didn’t seem exciting. It definitely didn’t rival all the other kids who had cheap packs of ramen noodles and Dunkaroos.
Or maybe it began when I worked in a grocery store stocking shelves all day, and the only thing I bought for lunches was a plain bun and two slices of bologna because it was a) really cheap and b) didn’t require a microwave or toaster oven or anything else that might force me to spend more time in the lunch room than I wanted to.
Awkward first jobs.
I actually met Matt, my +1, at said grocery store. He worked in the deli, I asked him for some bologna, and the rest is history. (Actually there was a lot more back-and-forth than that, but I’ll save that for another post.)
Once we had been going out for long enough, he confessed that he almost didn’t even ask me out, BECAUSE of the bologna. Apparently bologna is a crime against the sandwich world, and he totally judged me for ordering it.
This coming from the man who considers “sandwiches” to be their own separate food group.
Hey, I was broke and 18, I certainly wasn’t going to splurge for the prosciutto!
But anyway. As you might guess, he got over the bologna. I do love sandwiches now, even though they’re never my first choice when I’m deciding on what to eat. I always hesitate when I order a sandwich, even if I end up loving it and inhaling it in a couple of seconds.
But once you find a good sandwich, there’s no going back. They’re so good. The bread, all fluffy and doughy, the filling savory and/or sweet in a combination that tingles all the taste buds. Breakfast sandwiches, lunch sandwiches, cold or warm, grilled or plain, on english muffins or ciabatta buns. You can really put anything in a sandwich, and since it’s basically encased in bread, it’s bound to be good. Especially if there’s cheese involved.
These sammies are one of those examples: fluffy, chewy dough, salty prosciutto, sweet pear, creamy brie cheese and earthy, aromatic sage. It’s the perfect balance of sweet and savory.
|Pear, Brie, & Prosciutto Sandwiches with Sage Butter|| || |
- 2 ciabatta buns, sliced in half
- ¼ cup butter, room temp
- 2 Tbsp fresh sage leaves, finely chopped
- 1 pear, peeled and sliced
- 8 thick slices of brie cheese
- 4-6 slices prosciutto
- ½ cup loosely packed spinach leaves
- To make the sage butter, whip together the butter and sage leaves until creamy.
- Generously spread sage butter onto buns, and top with pear, brie, prosciutto, and spinach leaves. Serve.