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Home is where the sandwich is

My mother is a champion sandwich maker. Every work night, she begins an assembly line of sandwiches for the other workers in our family, rolling out all the ingredients, putting them all together and packing them up in neat little packages.

Many of the fixins, my mother makes from scratch. They used to be peanut butter and homemade jam. The jam came forth in huge batches every summer, measured, simmered and poured into glistening jars enough to fill sandwiches all year long. Then came the Dutch chocolate confections disguised as sandwiches that we used to get teased for eating. Now, the first tender sprigs of lettuce grown in her garden rows will make their way into turkey, bacon, lettuce and havarti sandwiches to feed tough guys who get their hands dirty. Then stop for lunch to praise the woman who grows enough lettuce to feed this army.

-Happy Mother’s Day with love from Young Elvis

Mum with a baguette cut in half, ready to make a massive sandwich

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