I am a tomato sandwich interloper. While that might automatically make me a rabid fan, I hide my late-to-the-game status with nonchalance. Of courrrse, it must be white bread. “I prefer Sunbeam.” See, no hard line for me. Prefer is the word. Just prefer, not a requirement. Duke’s mayo, too. Goes without saying for those to-the-tomato-sandwich-manor born. Shhh, do not shout Duke’s from the rooftop, lest you betray your newbieishness.
The tomato sandwich is an older food, but not that old since it is reliant on white bread, the kind that yields maximum puff from minimum wheat, landing it in early mid-century America. Right? Probably wrong. The Virginia Chronicle references it in 1911, although the bread must have been meatier and yeastier and all that good stuff. Yup, lots of people – anecdotal research here – prefer “good” bread and I can’t blame em. That tomato sandwich is a whole different animal. Worthy. Delicious. Different.