You Say Sandwich, We Say Yeah!

Having recently returned to Rome, I was quickly reminded that sometimes the most simple is the most delicious. By the third bite, this panini sandwich picked up from the Piazza Barberini neighbourhood interrupted my thoughts with " Good Lord, this sandwich is awesome !" Taking a photo so that I may remember for possible replication here at home, this sandwich was most straightforward: a very seedy fresh wholegrain bread, Italian salami, oven-roasted yellow bell pepper, soft mozzarella, and arugula. I'm seduced by the mystery of Italy, and how everything tasted so amazing there ... is it the freshness of the olive oil? Absolutely wonderful.

Tired, nay, unwilling to wait in the ridiculously long line up at Tim Horton's after clearing security at Pearson's, I stood in line with all the other early morning commuters until I realized the line had stopped moving some minutes ago. With an express line for those only getting beverages, the cashiers serving us hungry bastards had been a standstill, and I left with only a few minutes until boarding time. This produced a rushed decision, and this egg salad with spinach seemed like the most appropriate alternate option to a breakfast bagel. With a seeded bread, the egg salad was nothing to write home about, and I appreciated the spinach, but I do wonder why only the Brits put watercress in their sandwiches. Can we not follow suit? It's probably the best thing the Brits have ever done, so instead of having the Queen on our money, can we just have watercress in our sandwiches?

Irresistible to a smoked meat sandwich, I got one to go from Avenue Diner on Camden Street. Generous in proportion, and kept in a hot steamer for extra moisture, the flavours were not as deep as I would have hoped, but the double mustard gets it an extra point. Coming in at around seven dollars, it's one of the most expensive items at the diner, and one of the cheapest smoked meat sandwiches I have ever had.

How quickly the Winnipeg Airport has risen in its stature as having one of the crummiest food options to one of the best with a Stella's right before security. While locals in know have turned cold to Stella's franchise like empire, I still love visiting any one of their chains, including the one at the airport. I mean, this is an airport sandwich! Freshly made breakfast sandwich with a side of fruit and a cup of Earl Grey. Hate on, haters, but this is still one of the best airport options anywhere. [Since this original post, more information has been shared about Stella's owners and business practices. We have not supported their businesses since at least 2017. We leave this and other related posts up as a reminder that bad behaviour will not be forgotten and will not be supported, no matter how good your sandwiches tasted!

After a disappointing breakfast wrap from Le Gourmand, I opted for one of their big ham and cheese sandwiches, not trusting the same counter from which I got my wrap. The bread here is the clear winner, along with all of Le Gourmand's baked goods. The ham was fresh, the chedddar cheese freshly and thickly sliced, and how odd that it is cheddar! What could be a standard sandwich was elevated with their bread and a palpable layer of salty butter, and this ham and cheese was the perfect post-meeting treat to bring me back to life.

Going from one meeting to a lecture between the 4:30 - 6:30 p.m. time frame, I stopped in at Brazil Bakery on Dundas for one of their ready-made sandwiches. Choosing the patanisca (codfish cake) over the fish filet, even though the filet had a heft to it, I thoroughly enjoyed the codfish, which was not overly salty, and kept its flaked integrity in the generous mixture that was as big as the bun it came on. I actually ate it over two sittings, one right before the talk, and eating the remainder later at home.

I don't know why I keep finding myself on Ossington, but I do, and passing through I stopped in at Venezia Bakery for a snack during my wander. At first just perusing, I saw that they offered a hot veal sandwich, with the veal not breaded and in a mixture of roasted peppers and onions. I ordered one up, along with a petite custard tart, and waited. The sandwich was finished off in the microwave, which is not a good sign, but it came on a fresh crusty bun, and I am a sucker for a fresh crusty bun. The flavour of the sandwich itself was more peppers than anything else. Moist and not too salty, I don't think I would get this number again, but I will gladly stop in to Venezia for one of the baked goods and enjoy the view.

Oh, Nonna's , I have been scheming my way to get back here, and fortuitously, I had a work meeting nearby, and suggested we meet at Nonna's before or after said meeting. Lucky for me, we just met at Nonna's first, and while I wanted what I knew before , I went with L'Originale, a veal cutlet with greens and balsamic vinegar. It was damn tasty, but a bit dry, especially compared to the ones served with marinara sauce. One of my peers was mawing down the meatball in marinara sauce, and if we were better acquainted, I would have dipped my sandwich into the pools of marinara left behind.

Popping in one night after a book launch/reading/clothing exchange a few of us shared many small plates at OddSeoul , a place I would have never walked in unless led by the hand. Korean fusion, on Ossington, I had my doubts, but the plates are really well done, including this "Loosey" sandwich, which magically tastes like a Big Mac. Could it be the lettuce and dressing that brought all of us back to the days when we ate Big Macs guilt free, or was there something more to this assemblage of meat and bread and fillings? We ordered more than one of them to find out, and we knew no more than at first bite.

I can't remember which trip this was from, but it was in an airport, I even think the Vancouver airport. Probably this was eaten en route to Edmonton, unless this was the last sandwich I ate before I left the West coast, I can't remember anymore. I do know that this was better than I expected, with the bacon extra crispy and the egg very fluffy. Simply sliced brown bread. If they put it on a foccacia they could have doubled the price. I am glad they didn't.

I was recently sent this link from Carla B, who has been quiet on the sandwich front, but still sends her sandwich love every now and again. The link to a Travel Story pondering if the banh mi is the world's best sandwich made me wonder why I have never visited Vietnam. Seriously, why have I not made this trek? The answer I knew was a Yes without reading the article, but the correspondent's story arc made me miss a classic banh mi, and not what I've been eating for the last while. Take this for example: a tofu banh mi from the Banh Mi Boys, a very popular place on Queen St. West. Always busy, but never that good, I think it's popular because it's just filling and not Subway. I sometimes find myself feeling bad for Quizno's, but I just don't know who their sandwiches are for. Then there's this little number from Ginger's further East on Queen West. I popped in there during a recent festival when I grew tired of eating pizza and popco...

  In my persistent hunt for a good Italian sandwich in Vancouver, I was repeatedly referred to Cioffi's , which lies just outside of Vancouver boundary, literally on the otherside of Boundary Road in Burnaby. By and by, I ended up having my last sandwich in Vancouver in a moving van, helping another friend move (albeit move furniture from my home to hers), and we ended up driving up Burnaby Mountain to drop off one of the handy movers. On the way, with empty bellies and a sofa bed safely tucked away, I ran into Cioffi's for three sandwiches and san pellegrinos while they maneuvered the cube van in the hostile parking lot.  For some reason, I thought I was getting a big hoagie style sandwich, and not a grilled panini, but that's all they were offering. With a few premade numbers and fresh grilled, I perused the aisles of oils and dry goods and meat and cheese selections, and was largely non plussed. There is a more than decent selection, but I'm glad I didn't ...

Before I moved from Vancouver, I ate almost every meal out, as my kitchen had been packed up and I had to say my farewells via shared meals. At one of these meetings, I downed cans of Lucky at The Whip as some degenerate form of good-bye, and grew hungry. After a few cans, I needed something to eat, and so this happened: A Beef Dip. West Coast style. That is a healthy salad and a splash of jus for the dipping. The bread was pretty good, fresh and crispy, but the beef was a bit slim and chewy. A beef dip, in my perfect world, is stacked with melt in your mouth slices of beef, a real offensive amount of jus and blood soaking through the bread. This was not it, and I ate it, and never looked back.

Sneaking in shortly before the lunch hour rush, this here is a hot pastrami with coleslaw in Russian style dressing. Sitting on firm chewy slabs of caraway seed bread, the pastrami was melt in your mouth good and some of the finest I have ever enjoyed. With my host picking parts of the meat that fell onto the plate, which can also come just as a deli platter, she missed the best part, which was the genius combination of the creamy pickled coleslaw cutting through the pastrami with the caraway seed flavour. At a fraction of the price of its NY counterparts, and seemingly beloved by locals and visitors alike, I had a taste of my friend's matzoh ball soup, and it's legit. By the time we left, a line up had formed outside, and if I lived there, I would line up, too.

  IT'S-IT is a San Francisco company that has been making hipster ice cream sandwiches long before hipsters or ice cream sandwiches existed. IT'S-IT really is the original ice cream sandwich, and obviously, I must try it.   Nestled between two oatmeal cookie layers and coated in chocolate to seal in the mint ice cream, I devoured two of them, but remember thinking this could be better, but how? I mean, we did buy them at a Target with a view of the Hollywood sign in the near distance. This is not just a dream, but a reality. 

I know this is a hot dog, the famous Pink's Hot Dogs in Hollywood, but as I spent a week down there this late summer, and ate mostly SoCal tacos and tasty tasty food in beautiful al fresco settings, I found this hot dog to be near the equivalent of a certain sandwich aura. To my surprise, I ordered the "Martha Stewart" which is a 9" stretch dog that comes with relish, onions, bacon, chopped tomatoes, sauerkraut and sour cream. The dog had a nice bite to it, though it must have been 9" before cooking. Still, I used every single one of those napkins and could have used a couple more. I sat on their back patio in the sun, watching one of the Pink owners in her hot pink blazer, smoking in the back, waiting for the next photo op to start. It was a good view to eat this dog. I wouldn't order the Martha again, and technically it's not even a sandwich, but maybe it's a mentionable.

The Camden Diner, or more generally known as Avenue Open Kitchen on Camden Street, is a classic greasy spoon near my new work place, and already I'm trying to limit my visits to once a week. This classic breakie sandwich of generous proportions of eggs and bacon on white toast came with a couple packets of ketchup, delivered fresh on morning before an early film screening during TIFF. With few and far between options around that festival, this sandwich was a treat and sustenance to carry me through another long day of sitting in dark, windowless rooms.

Having stayed clear of the infamous chip butty while living in Scotland, I felt somewhat nostalgic, or just hungry after too many pints at The Fat Badger , this somewhat British inspired pub in downtown Vancouver. So, I ordered their chip butty. I also tried their Scotch egg, which didn't feel unhealthy at all in this Vancouver reincarnation, but this, this was definitely something I must have made when I was either very young or very drunk. Thick cut chips, not too fresh, not too soggy, stacked between to slices of miniature plain white bread. I have only ever see it in a soft bun, as covered here by one of our correspondents, which with its overflow of chips, seemed more like the honest representation of why people order it: to soak up the excess alcohol. This wee thing was filling, how could it not be, but seemed a bit too prim and proper for my cravings.

A stray photograph was found in my downloads folders as some necessary Fall clean up was underway, and lo and behold, a random shot of a half assorted deli from Spolumbo' s and a plate of pickles! This was sent in from my friend Sarah, who I shared this sandwich with, and who I gave all the extra pickles to, as I believe I ate my half in the car on the way to the airport. Another Spolumbo's sandwich was eaten, the hot veal parmigiana, on the same trip to Calgary, but that photo along with other delicious sandwich photos was lost when my phone got soaked in Barton Springs this summer. Thanks, Sarah!

Husband and I were invited to have Tea with the Queen. The annual Garden Party is held for all those who have contributed to Scottish culture, and husband has most certainly done that recently. I accompanied as a doting spouse. It was my finest hour. I even wore clean underwear and everything.  The party is held in the manicured grounds of the Palace of Holyrood, the Queen’s Edinburgh Residence and the gardens are framed by an ancient ruined Abbey and the even more ancient hill of Arthur’s Seat. On arrival, we sauntered in and amongst the invited guests, watching Queenie and Phillip bestow royal glances to simpering Royalists. We got bored and wandered off to the refreshment tent.  We’d been told the tea is the best cup of tea you’ll ever have. It wasn’t. Luke warm and anaemic, it felt like a Cup Of Tea’s dying, pathetic, younger sibling, so I moved on to other items on the menu - cold mocha drinks, passionfruit tarts, eclairs, raspberry topped cakes, e...

A hot tip came my way via Jenny W, who re-introduced to herself by way of, "Hi, you may not remember me, but we once talked about sandwiches." Truth. I definitely remembered the conversation about the yet to be visited Lady of the Lake Cafe in Brandon, Manitoba, but unfortunately faces are not my strong point. Now with the recommendation of Fitzroy , a relatively new place down on Sherbrook, I will never forget you, JW! Highly recommended was the smoked goldeye, a Manitoba favorite fish, paired with creamy scrambled eggs and topped with caviar and scallions. I don't remember the sandwich part, I guess it came on toast, which in fact was delicious fried bread that I could eat for days and days until I explode. It was in fact so good that my dining companion (who ordered the cheeseburger) and I split a salt beef sandwich, which was a steamie served on thick cut Winnipeg Rye with a splatter of sweet heat mustard. With the morsels of salt beef breaking...

Craving a corned beef sandwich like you wouldn't believe, my last meal in Winnipeg ended up at Bernstein's Deli , but not before a trip to Danali's for a pair of high end denim. Turns out the most knowledgable denim salesman I have ever met just also happens to be married to the head chef at Bernstein's, and along with raw denim, he also highly recommended the Reuben burger and the house corned beef. A classic looking joint attached to a strip mall, Bernstein's was a hopping place on a Saturday morning and everyone looked really happy to be there. Going for half a corned beef sandwich on Winnipeg rye so that I could save room for the Reuben burger, I am aware that I could have just ordered the Reuben sandwich. However, I needed to taste the pure corned beef before it got mixed in with bison ground meat to make the said Reuben burger. First, the sandwich was just okay. Nothing amazing, could have used more flavours in my opinion and a spicier...

Having already eaten first dinner, a late stop into Rae and Jerry's resulted in ordering off their bar menu and a splitting of their jumbo shrimp cocktail and this, a Hot Roast Prime Rib of Beef Sandwich. Now one can very well argue this is no sandwich. I would not disagree, as the bread was all but present as a mild texture that had been soaked through and through with the jus of the prime rib and slathered further by the hot gravy. A thin slice of white bread could not hold even an eighth of that weight.  Described to me as "the finest truck stop version of a hot beef sandwich", I really can't say I have much to compare it to as I have never had a hot beef sandwich at a truck stop before. I also don't know if you can get the best martini's around at just any ol' truck stop. Just one more thing to find out, I guess. All in all, it was good, but I wouldn't crave it. If I want prime rib, I just want the prime rib, sandwich not necessary.

I often avoided A Bread Affair on Granville Island due to the perpetual pan flute didgeridoo jam going on directly outside its doors, but hungry and not feeling like heading into the market, I slipped in during a musical break to see what was on offer. As a go to bakery first introduced to me over a decade ago, I have never taken note of their sandwich display. It makes perfect sense to offer sandwiches as the freshest market ingredients are right across the way and they are already home to some of the best bread in the city. Going for the pickles and porchetta option, I was extremely pleased to find generous spreads of fine butter visible on the bread, pairing well with the tartness of the pickles and the salty and not at all too fatty porchetta inside a perfect torpedo bun. The real winner was the mix of spicy fresh greens, whose leaves I could not all identify, but had the body texture of baby kale and the after burn of Japanese mustard leaves. I was unfortunately in a...

There’s a lot going on here. Eating this in a taxi on the way to the airport, I swore to myself to remember the details of what made this creamy Sammie explode but it’s hazy. The 5-inch thick sandwich included the typical three slices of plain brown bread, and played host to many layered ingredients expected in the Club Sandwich genre. A roasted veggie tomato spread of some sort, lettuce, cucumber, turkey, a rather tasteless cheese I didn’t realize was there at first, perhaps avocado or some other greenery before a fantastic fried egg and the customary bacon. Lots of mayonnaise with unidentified green herbs or onions perhaps and butter, providing a deliciously slippery mess of a Club. From the brightly inviting storefront, the nice service, and cute-named breakfast plates, the ladies who work here also seem quite fun. 

I popped my Scandinavian sandwich cherry in Oslo with a fantastic smoked salmon on seeded bread. I bit into the dense, chewy bread heavily crusted with sesame, flax, and sunflower seeds, as my sandwich companion noted that whole flax acts as an exfoliator for the lower intestine. This is a definite bonus, as folks in these parts seem to like flax seeds on practically everything. Under the lid, there are many regular ingredients in the classic Norwegian sandwich combo, including thick slices of salmon, a spreadable cream cheese flecked with herbs and pepper (possibly even carrot), plus only slightly wilted greens, and thinly sliced cucumber. 

  After passing up a $30 open-face sandwich toppling with an impressive vertical assortment of dilled shrimpies, caviar, and a generous lemon slice, I opted for this miserably flat $9 boxed sandwich. There’s not much to say here through the tears. So instead, I post a picture of the one that got away, as a reminder to all readers: if in doubt, spring for the real deal. Post Script: thankfully, our correspondent in Norway made good this summer and became well acquainted with the classic Scandi-sammie, the glorious open face piled high with various seafoods.

I'll gladly go on record here to say this is the best sandwich at the Toronto International Airport for under ten bucks. Herein we find everything needed for a decent "falafal" experience, save possibly pickled turnip and a drizzle of olive oil and cumin or other toasted spices to upgrade the presentation of the two dips: hummus and baba ganoush. Hummus seems to have something slightly sweet, perhaps sweet potato or red pepper in the mix. Otherwise, a slice of fresh lemon, sliced cucumber, red pepper, cherry tomatoes, crisp lettuce, kalamata olives and springy pita are all on deck, and there is enough of each to go around. 

With a line up out the door on a Friday afternoon and a full on BBQ set up bringing in the Gastown business drifters, I went for the pork sandwich, which turned out to be a very filling option of a banh mi with roasted pork tenderloin. I've been to Railtown cafe a number of times before, but being way out of the way, and only open on weekdays until 6, it's never a priority. They don't have much in the way of competition, and their food is fresh and flavourful, but they are missing a certain something that keeps me from being too excited. Everything looks good, and tastes good, but there is no wow. For a city like Vancouver, you would think there would be half a dozen of these places, in Gastown alone, but Railtown's anomaly to do a decent lunch is what brings in the hoards, and lining up to get an average lunch is just not good enough for me.

I am on a full on city-wide search for a decent reuben, and so far, I am pretty disappointed in what passes for a smoked meat sandwich in this town. Having lunch at Paul's Omelettery , where I have only ever had an omelette, I opted for the reuben as how else will I ever know. Scanning the menu to see that they do indeed offer a corned beef hash, I figured the meat will have to be at least half way decent if they are double downing its usage. Listed as a grilled sandwich option, I asked not to grill the bread, but it came toasted anyways. I am guessing the rye bread is not so fresh, and the reuben? Disappointing because no one here cares.

The basic breakfast roll pictured above was four bucks, already twice as much as it once shortly ago. I got it somewhere near Sullivan Street, starved out after some bad, expensive coffee that cost just as much. I don't see many bodegas in Manhattan proper anymore, so when I do, I pay my respects. Staying in Brooklyn, the corner bodegas still offer this type of sandwich, but more and more, they are being pushed out by the cafe bistros that already dominate Manhattan by offering upscale versions of the classic, like the greasy mess of a Reuben pictured here, which was no Reuben in my books. Putting together more expensive ingredients does not a good sandwich make, especially if the maker is unskilled in sandwich preparation. While your storefront may showcase the finest baked sweets, if you don't know how to make a sandwich or pull a long shot, then you are charging twenty bucks for me to look at your haircut. Gentrification has ruined entire neighborhoods, if not entire ...

It was not quite 5am on a Saturday morning when I ordered my breakfast bagel sandwich from Tim Horton's and noticed a pretzel bagel option. So be it, I thought. I don't ever go near a Tim Horton's unless I'm on the road, but you know what? This was pretty good. I love me a pretzel, and most street vendor pretzels are as dry as hell. This was at least moist and chewy, and came in a sandwich form!

I walked by this sign before being highly recommended to go, The Scone Witch somehow flew over my sandwich pun detector. Using fluffy handmade scones for all of their sconewitches, I settled into a breakfast sconewitch of ham, egg, and cheese. I was warned that they did not offer sweet scones for the sandwich option, only savoury, and for a coven of witches, you would think they would think outside the box. Nevertheless, A hot, fancy plate arrived in due time stacked higher than wide, hollowing out the centre of the scone to fill in the breakfast items. The purist in me really questions the validity of this so-called sandwich. While a toad in the hole style presentation is still a sandwich, the flakiness of the scone makes it impossible to eat without utensils, pushing it further into the realm of a quiche. I never got to go back, but I would try one of their lunch options to see how they handle the tuna option.

Never much for the sweets, I somehow find myself hauling ass to Thierry's for their macarons time and time again. Using more salt than sugar is perhaps this chocolaterie's secret, and having tried most of their desserts and even one of their ham and cheese croissants ( documented here ), I finally sat down for lunch with a guest to sample their baguettes proper. Going for the jambon blanc and gruyère with a touch a dijon fromage frais, the winner was my companion's selection of the cold smoked wild sockeye salmon with the caper cream cheese, which also happened to have just the perfect amount of fresh dill blended in. Overflowing from an aromatic and densely chewy baguette with just the right amount of crust, it's the type of sandwich that leaves you with a tinge of flour on your fingertips and a yearning for more. Of course, the baby gherkins were the perfect finisher, along with a few macarons to share. Oh, Thierry!

Disappointing bread, fascinating combo of fillings. Your usual roasted veggie sammie's got red pepper, zucchini, tomato, possible mushroom, possible cheese, and onion, but it's often pretty predictable. This number opens up to a bunch of unexpected delights, including curly green kale softened by oil and marinade, and what appears to be julienne broccoli stems. It could be a big disaster, but about halfway I'm digging the crunch, and I notice a further unifying element... some red sauce squeezing out from under the veg. "Is that? No, it cannot be ketchup?!? It must be homemade tomato jam of some sort, I see seeds," I say to myself. Regardless, I'm into it.