Wherein the Metaphysical Sandwich is Realized.

What is there to say about a chicken sandwich?

It's good.

A.  It's a sandwich.
B.  There's chicken in it.

A sandwich isn't something that needs a recipe, friends. Granted, I've seen--and tried--more than my fair share of sandwich "recipes."  But as a convenience food, and a regular, beloved staple of my diet, anybody can make a pretty darn good sandwich.  And a sandwich is something more than anything a recipe can define, I think.  It is so humble, we don't think much of them as a genre...but we probably eat more sandwiches than, say, tacos or pizza or salads.  If we vote on our favorite foods by eating them, I'd hazard a guess that the humble sandwich is the President of the United States of American Diets.

Start with good bread, like this soft ciabatta from Trader Joe's.

True, there are food lovers the world over who excel at sandwich making.  I've had great sandwiches that blend unexpected flavors, introduce a range of textures, and unite between chewy, fresh bread into something much more than a sandwich's humble origins would expect.  But, I've also had amazing sandwiches out of random ingredients I dig out of my own fridge and assemble between whatever bread we have on hand.  A good sandwich can come from humble roots, just like a bad sandwich can run you $15 or more.

Know what you want on it

And we've all had mediocre sandwiches probably more often than either of those last two events combine.  Still, though, even a mediocre sandwich is pretty good.  As a meal, they're universally appealing, and universally delicious...OK, well, palatable.  I did try lots of Tesco pre-packaged sandwiches while in London last year (hey, a sandwich, chips and water for 2 pounds is a whole lot less than any other London eats I could find...) and had some unfavorable reactions to one of them (the cheese and onion and mayo concoction...what?  i love cheese.  i love onion.  i love mayo.  but together, ALONE, on white bread? ....ew).

Spread the bread with loooove.  Yeah, I gross myself out sometimes. 

Straying back around to my original lack-of-point...I like sammiches.  I try to make great ones.  But, there is no key, I belove, to elevating a good sandwich to a great one.  Instead, it's all about the combination; the mood; the memory; the reason; and, of course, the taste.  Some might say, "use the best ingredients you can find!"  And, sure, in general this rings true.  But a natural, gourmet peanut butter and locally-sourced small-batch jam on rustic fresh baked bread aren't ever, ever going to outshine the memory of Jif & Smuckers on Butternut bread.  On the other side, deli turkey adorned with every condiment and topping is probably never goign to top leftover turkey on leftover rolls, maybe with some yellow mustard, the day after Thanksgiving.  It just can't.

So you can go as gourmet as you want, stay as kitsch as you want--it doesn't matter.  A good sandwich can't be defined so easily, which is why I think recipes can't really tell you how to make a good one either.  They mean too much to us to come with instructions.

Build sturdily and with consideration of each bite.

Instead, I say, eat what you want, and be creative.  Make the insides a surprise--leave the lettuce and tomato behind and throw on thinly sliced veggies you don't usually see on a deli tray, like zucchini, cucumber, carrots, cabbage.  Open your cupboard and think about what would compliment your flavors if you weren't using bread--curry powder? flavored vinegar? any dips or spreads? Hell, even celeb chef Flay has a burger at his restaurant that comes with potato chips on it.

I love the money shot.

Think beyond mayo and mustard to salad dressing, hummus, cream cheese--or create an easy "aioli" by mixing spices into your mayo before spreading.  Like I did on this giant ciabatta monster, consisting of garlic-grilled chicken, wilted kale, roasted red peppers, and fontina cheese, with an easy aioli of mayo, garlic (just the powdered kind), minced chives, and lemon. Wrapped in foil, baked until melty, and sliced up...and devoured.

Bottom line...be creative!  Think about your next sandwich, pay it a little respect, and get weird with what you throw on it.  You probably won't regret it.



Grilled Chicken Sandwich with Fontina and Kale 
Serves 3-4

One large loaf ciabatta or other long, thin bread
2 chicken breasts
1/2 bunch kale, washed, stemmed and wilted (place in a covered container with water still clinging to its leaves and microwave for a minute or two)
3 slices fontina cheese
roasted red peppers
red onion, thinly sliced


Garlic Aioli
1 small garlic clove
pinch of kosher salt 1/4 cup low-fat mayo
1 Tbsp spicy mustard
1 tsp chopped fresh chives
1 tsp lemon juice and zest

1.  Grill Chicken.  Heat a grill pan over medium-high heat.  Using a boning knife, fillet chicken breasts into cutlets by carefully cutting lengthwise along the equator.  (Make this job easier by freezing the chicken for 20-30 minutes before cutting.  You don't want them frozen through, just starting to harden up.) Season well with salt, pepper, and garlic powder.  Grill until cooked through, about 7-10 minutes.

2.  Make aioli. Finely mince garlic clove, then sprinkle with a pinch of kosher salt.  Grind to a paste using the back of a chef's knife until mostly smooth.  Mix garlic with mayo, mustard, chives, lemon juice, and zest.

3. Assemble sandwich.  Preheat oven to 325 degrees.  Cut bread loaf in half, horizontally through the equator, and slightly hollowing out by scooping excess bread from the middle, if desired..  Spread both sides with garlic aioli.  Top bottom half with wilted kale, then chicken, cheese, peppers, and onions.  Wrap tightly with foil and bake 15 minutes or until warmed through and cheese is melted.  Slice into portions and serve.