Let's start with the pleasant part of our Big Sandwich Adventure. I made a sauce to eat with my sandwich. I used to make it all the time when The Pony was living here right after college. The Pony is the one who deserves credit for teaching my how to make this tasty concoction. It's great with sandwiches, or as a dip for chicken tenders, or even eggrolls. I just make an individual serving.
I make this in a ramekin:
garlic aioli - 1 tbsp
spicy brown mustard - 1 tbsp
yellow mustard - a couple squirts
mayo - 1 tbsp
horseradish - 1 tsp
Those measurements are approximate. You stir it all together with a fork. I plan to add more horseradish next time. The Pony also adds a dab of ketchup, and some black pepper. Not sure if The Pony uses horseradish. Anyhoo... this made about a half-ramekin full of sauce. Rather than spreading it on my sandwich, I dip in a fork, and put a bit on the sandwich before taking a bite. That way I can enjoy the flavor of the sauce more. I also used it for dipping a few plain potato chips.
This Big Sandwich was DELICIOUS! I am looking forward to having more for supper tonight. I might have mentioned yesterday how I sliced it. Once down the middle, then two slices across, with the middle cut being off-center to give Farmer H a larger portion than me.
And now, for the less-than-savory details... WARNING!
I unwrapped the Big Sandwich on the cutting block, and picked my our long sharp knife, made by Farmer H's former butcher-supply company, to make my slices. The sandwich was on french bread, which was quite firm on the bottom. I wiggled the big sharp knife on its curved blade, listening and feeling for when it went all the way through. Then I called Farmer H to the kitchen to get his food.
Farmer H was on the phone with The Veteran, who had called just as I was getting the Big Sandwich out of FRIG II. Farmer H had come home from his Senior Center lunch around noon, then worked over in the BARn, gathering tools he would need for a job the next day at Nick and Bev's house, putting in an electric meter. Farmer H then went back to his Storage Unit Store 2.5 to move some merchandise around. When he got home that evening, I had made him a Wild Turkey and Diet Shasta Cola, which he sipped for over an hour, eating broken tortilla chips, and taking three pee breaks on the front porch talking to Scarlett, he being the object of her ADORATION.
Anyhoo... Farmer H told The Veteran that he needed to get off the phone to eat supper. He came to the cutting block where I had his plate. He put some chips on it, then got out the spicy brown mustard.
"This is your side of the sandwich, with the bigger pieces."
Farmer H picked up his end slice. Or TRIED to. There was a sliver of the bottom bread that was not cut all the way through.
"Just pull on it. I've got it," I said, holding Farmer H's next slice, while wielding the knife to make that final little cut."
Before I realized what was happening, Farmer H grabbed MY sandwich section with his right hand, while holding his with his left hand, trying to pull them apart!
SWEET GUMMI MARY!
You realize, of course, knowing Farmer H, that he had not washed his hands since he came home. And there certainly is no sink on the front porch, his unofficial toilet.
"STOP! I don't want your pee hands all over my sandwich!"
"You SAID to pull on it!"
"Not on MY piece! Now I have to eat your bacteria all over my sandwich! You know you haven't washed your hands since you got home! And I DID wash my hands before getting out the sandwich."
No comment from Farmer H. I made sure to eat the Farmer-H-handled section of my sandwich that night, rather than let those bacteria flourish for 24 hours.
Like I said, my sandwich was delicious. I wonder if the next piece will be as tasty, without Farmer H's added ingredients.
4 comments:
Urk! Unwashed hands on your sandwich! You lived to tell the tale though. I'd be happy with just plain garlic aioli, no other additives. My kids would probably tryThe Pony's version.
Have you any idea how many men never wash their hands? I once followed a particular doctor for an entire shift, even standing outside the restroom door to listen for sounds of water rushing out the faucet. Back then gloves were only used for sterile procedures. He examined a baby boy's infected circumcision and from there he went to eat his dinner. I reported my findings to the rest of the nursing staff and won the bet about whether he was a hand washer and to the chief of emergency services. I also told my fellow workers that should I ever come in with a serious injury to please make sure he did not TOUCH me!!
River,
Yes, I survived! I really like the horseradish kick, but just garlic aioli would work for me, too.
Kathy,
I try not to think about it, until my BIG SANDWICH is affected!!! There should be a consequence for such filthy doctors. Even a bad-check-writer gets their picture posted at a convenience store! And they generally don't have the daily opportunity to kill people.
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