Good morning. What is your favorite store-bought sandwich? In NYC, I like the hot roast beef at Defonte’s in Brooklyn, the Carmine’s Special at Del Fiore’s in Patchogue, and the Reuben with coleslaw at the Country Store in Orient.
I’ve flown straight from the airport in New Orleans to the Parkway for a fried oyster po’boy, and straight from LAX to Langer’s for pastrami. Have you ever had a banh mi at Saigon Sandwich House in Lowell, Massachusetts? Or a turkey sandwich at Urban Green in Anchorage? Put that on your list.
Sandwiches tell delicious stories, stories we should hear and re-tell. This week, my colleagues laid out a table full of sandwiches: 57 iconic New York City sandwiches. I’m hoping to make some at home this weekend.
first, Halloumi, arugula and tomato sandwich (Above) From Baby Blues Luncheonette in Williamsburg, Brooklyn: Jake Marsilia’s ode to the Greek BLT, with cheese instead of bacon and red onion instead of iceberg, served with a lemony arugula salad.
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Halloumi, arugula and tomato sandwich
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For Saturday lunch, we had a homemade version of Spicy Cumin Lamb Burger For dinner, we had English muffins, a specialty of Xi’an. pancake and Cream filled berries On Sunday morning, rumor For lunch, I made a sandwich following instructions from Caroline Fidanza, who has served it for years at her restaurant Salty: hard-boiled egg, pickled beets and carrots, capers, herbs, feta cheese, and pimentón mayonnaise. Focaccia.Oh wow.
So what’s for dinner on Sunday night? Again, no sandwiches. Instead, we deconstructed the sandwich. Barbecue Shrimp Then there’s some bread to tear off and dip into the sauce, and a pile of cold shredded iceberg lettuce drizzled with a little oil and red wine vinegar. This is a delicious way to eat it, especially if you cook the shrimp whole, in their shells, on a newspaper-covered tablecloth and let your guests devour it with their fingers.
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Now, this has nothing to do with paninis or grilled cheese, but I just started reading Ann Powers’ biography of Joni Mitchell, “Traveling,” and I encourage you to do the same.
Maine’s glass eels are a big-money fishery that prompted a great story this week from Paige Williams in The New Yorker.
Gil Partington wrote an interesting review in the London Review of Books about a book about a large-scale literary forgery: “An unlikely thriller whose plot hinges on typographical details and sherry parties.” I recommend you read it.
Finally, I’d like to introduce Jelly Roll’s new song, “I Am Not Okay.” Still, “we’re all okay.” Listen to this song while eating your sandwich. See you on Sunday.
