It hardly seems right to watch the Super Bowl while eating the kind of highfalutin fare that excites Michelin-starred chefs. Except this year, because the dish inflaming culinary passions is decidedly football-friendly: the sandwich.
While the word may conjure up infantile PB&Js or over-stuffed hoagies, chefs are taking sandwiches seriously, embracing their all-American familiarity while using them as a platform for global influences.
The new school of sandwiches, built around layers of highly seasoned meats that are braised or slow-cooked to fork-tenderness, ooze with just enough cheddar or pungent olive oil to be moist. They get kick from condiments such as tomato jam or Moroccan harissa.
Read more here.
Honestly, does competitive cooking have to highjack everything?? I know, I know, chefs are “the new rock stars”, blah, blah, blah. We don’t need high profile chefs, people. High profile, as far as I can see, is created in the name of cash flow. You may think me a sour grapes wet blanket and that is okay. Puffed up celebrity has always made me ill at ease, particularly when it comes to food. Not that I have a gripe with any hardworking and talented chef making lots of dough. I don’t. They should. And it’s okay with me if we leave them in peace, in the kitchen, not ready for their close-up. Telegenicity is not one of my prerequisites for notoriety.
Okay, okay, I take it all back. Holy c**p these wiches look good. Still…..reading about food….sometimes it is all too much. Am I the only one who occasionally wants to head for the hills with only a bowl and spoon? Just after I watch the Packers clobber the Steelers, bratwurst in hand.
End of rant.