Many years ago, a chap who shall henceforth be known as "T-Bone" turned me on to one of his great family traditions: 'Big Sandwich'. Not 'THE Big Sandwich', just 'Big Sandwich'.
You start with a big round loaf of King's Hawaiian Bread, cut off the muffin top, and then lay down a bed of lettuce. On this, goes your yellow cheese. Usually sharp cheddar. Then, a layer of bologna, a layer of Budding corned beef, a layer of turkey, and a layer of hard salami. Add a layer of white cheese. I prefer Swiss. Then a layer of sliced tomatoes. Skim the muffin top with mayo and Guldon's mustard, and plop it on, and slice into quarters. And if you aren't able to unhinge your jaw like a snake, you'll need to crush to eat.
And a Big Sandwich is born.
I've been thinking about Big Sandwich recently. Probably its connections to football season. But it's way more than a lone bachelor should have, and once you apply the mayo and mustard to the bread, the clock starts ticking. I could only make a half, but that would only be 'slightly oversized sandwich'.
There, I've laid out the basic rules, but Big Sandwich is like jazz. It's okay to improvise and riff, as long as the players jam well together.
Yesterday's wafting snowflakes made me think about cooking up a big honkin' pot. And I do have this cool new stove I need to put thru its paces...
Sounds like someone is buying groceries tonight.