After a conference of sandwiches, how could I eat yet another sandwich?
I certainly wasn't craving any more road-weary sandwiches, but I knew for the 5 hour plane ride ahead, I would need something substantial, something that wouldn't take up a lot of precious space, and something that didn't need to be reheated. Plus, the options were really limited in the nether region of the Toronto airport where I had to change planes between Ottawa and Vancouver. There was an Irish pub and a Tim Horton's and there a few cafes way off in the distance. That's where I found this, and upon lifting it, I knew it would carry me over. All the way over. I don't think I even had dinner that night.
The bread itself was the main ingredient, a loaded raisin walnut affair that would be fine with a dab of butter unto itself. The slices of brie and pear were not holding up that well out of the cooler, but I ate this over two sittings on the plane and it satiated all hunger pangs that those dry bags of crackers and cookies only procure with their handful of salt or sugar. I did have to ask for water though, and WestJet is either being skimpy with water (they refused to refill my water bottle, instead handing me another plastic cup of water) or the crew member hates the world.
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