Victoria Sandwich, London

That little piece of paper above the cakes reads: "VICTORIA SANDWICH"

I don't know if I wholly agree, but I tried one nonetheless.

Sitting in the sun outside the Tate Britain with a fellow sandwich lover, we could not agree on whether the Victoria Sponge was a sandwich, and whether the Victoria Sponge was dry or not. I thought not a sandwich, and dry, while she felt the opposite. We ate it all the same.

I don't think it's a sandwich obviously because it's a piece of cake, but also because its assembly and engagement. You cannot pick this up and eat it like a sandwich. It requires a fork, and maybe a spoon since I felt it dry, and only the cream filling held the thing together. A sandwich, in my eyes, must be a considered sum of its parts, and this is mere filling.

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Bill Cosby, Shopsy's Deli, Toronto

I did not know Shopsy's was such a thing, but getting there around 11am before the financial district regulars came in for a hot lunch and protips, I sat down to the Bill Cosby sandwich (hot corned beef AND hot pastrami with swiss cheese) and hot damn if it wasn't one of the best damn (and hilarious) sandwiches I have ever eaten. Very moist, possibly improvised, and incredibly flavourful pastrami and corned beef, both of which are hard to find out West, the double decker treatment makes me wonder why it's not always this way. The usual smoked meat stack a la Montreal style is sometimes obscene, or simply not enough, but here, it's the right combination of meat slope to rye bread softness that made me wonder if I should work in the financial district, because if I did, I would certainly order this sandwich again with an extra pickle.

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This blog has been neglected. I'm sorry, but not sorry, as life took me in a different direction for the last several years, and compounded with the global pandemic, I did not travel for about three years. Homemade sandwiches were made and enjoyed. Many a thick cut bacon and equally thick cut seasonal tomato sandwich on artisanal whole wheat was savoured with a cut of mayonnaise. I became my own favorite lunchtime deli counter, out of necessity. But of course, one tires of familiarity, and eventually, new flavours and textures are desired. In my first 24 hours in Chicago, a night was spent at the redesigned Chicago Athletic Association, formerly a private gentlmen's club. A decadent steak dinner was enjoyed off premise, but breakfast was sampled in its distinctive Cherry Circle Room . As the original name for the private club's longstanding lounge, the redesign of room and menu plays off the old boys' vibe of exclusivity and Chicago's love for wood paneling, and to...

You Say Sandwich, We Say Yeah!

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