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.