Wednesday, March 20, 2013


For generations, sandwiches were the ultimate guilty pleasure of subcultures that had no patience for guilt: hungry bachelors, school kids, working stiffs, old men in delis. To fridge-foraging rubes like Dagwood, quality wasn’t half as important as quantity. The sandwich was one of the only snacks you were allowed to pile as high as you wanted with anything you desired and cram into your face with both hands. Pictured is the #1 sandwich the old oak blt. The B is applewood smoked—nice and snappy. The L is arugula—fresh and peppery. The T is a fried green slice—jacketed in cornmeal and greaseless. Slathered with pimiento cheese, the grilled ciabatta somehow stays crisp, providing three distinct layers of crunch. Truly inspired.
(link below)

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