It’s two minutes to midnight. Literally and figuratively. I can sense the saintly patience of the Meritales editors wearing thin. Who can blame them? I owe them some words, and so far, I’ve got nothing. It’s finally time to put pen to paper and pony up.
But can you really blame me? We’re on the side of Easter where the sun bids us farewell by five o’clock. There are just a few weeks left in the financial year, a grim reminder that I still haven’t done last year’s taxes. Oh, and we’re still in the middle of a global pandemic. I’m tired. You’re tired. We’re all tired. Who could be bothered cooking dinner right now? And writing about it!
You might not know it yet, but this is an article about sandwiches. Originally, I was planning to slander John Montague, the eighteenth-century earl for whom the sandwich was named. Something about him being a profligate gambler and unlovable scallywag. Or maybe I was going to reignite the done-to-death debate: is a hotdog a sandwich? I don’t remember.
Anyway, the point is this: just because I feel like giving up on myself doesn’t mean I’ve given up on my sandwich. After all, sandwiches have always been there for us. In our kindergarten lunch boxes, on family road trips, and in university share-houses where the closest thing to gourmet came in a red and white wrapper and set you back 80c.
We need sandwiches now more than ever, which is why I asked three Merivale staffers to give me the low-down on their ultimate hoagie.
The Roadie
Mike Eggert, Totti’s Executive Chef
Ingredients:
● Roast beef
● Smoked ham
● Shaved chicken
● Shredded iceberg lettuce
● Gherkin slices
● Mustard or hot sauce
● Mayonnaise
● Gruyere
Mike calls this “the goddamn roadie” but that looked a little too blasphemous to publish as a headline. A soft bap or potato roll lays the foundations. “This sandwich is designed to be eaten while driving, so the roll can’t be too tough or difficult to chew through one-handed,” says Mike.
“Shaved meat is essential, he says. “It needs to be thin and in excess. It really amps up if there are multiple types of cold cut involved.” All that chicken, pork and beef needs a thick mayo to hold it all together, but Mike reckons a hummus works fine as well. “Keep vegetable or salad elements to a minimum,” warns Mike. “They compromise the structural integrity.” Shredded carrot and lettuce are allowed for some freshness, as are thin-sliced pickles for some pop and zest.
“If you like to live dangerously, keep a little gravy in your cup-holder for dipping”, says Mike.
The Classic
Frank Roberts, Merivale Head of Food & Beverage
Ingredients:
● Crusty bread
● Posh butter
● Ham off the bone
● Rocket
● Pickles
● Raw onion
When we asked Frank about his favourite sandwich, he started a long way from where he landed. “Chicken bahn mi from Hong Ha in Mascot,” he said at first. “No, melanzane and raw sausage!” Try again. “I know. Roasted porchetta roll.” Almost there. “Actually, it’s a classic ham.” There we go.
Begin with a crusty baguette from Surry Hills’ Lavie & Belle Bakery, a smear of the best butter you can find – Frank goes for XXXXXX – and a touch of Coleman’s hot English mustard. Then, stuff with top quality rocket, a few strands of raw spanish onion and a generous helping of ham off the bone. “Kurobuta is great,” says Frank. If you’re feeling a little adventurous, a handful of David Chang’s quick pickle adds crunch and vibrancy.
The Late Night
Laura Hogger, Head Chef, Coogee Pavilion
Ingredients:
● Soft white bread
● Sliced cheddar
● Sour cream and chive chips
● Branston pickle
This vego-friendly sandwich is tailor-made for when you’re feeling a little bit silly. “This is my go-to sandwich when I’ve come home after a few drinks,” says Laura. Fitting then, you can whip this number up in under a minute with nothing but a butter knife and some pantry staples.
Britain’s favourite condiment, Branston Original Pickle, was practically made for sliced cheddar, so apply both liberally to soft white sandwich bread and add the crunchy star of the show: sour cream and chive chips. Slip into something comfy, replenish your liquids (of the non-alcoholic variety) and tuck yourself into bed. “So bloody good.”