Let’s talk about the tomato sandwich

Classic Southern Tomato Sandwich photographed for Voraciously/the Washington Post by Scott Suchman. Food styling by Lisa Cherkasky

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.

If You Give a Girl a Steak

She will want to steep some rosemary in olive oil. And is she makes a little rosemary oil, a charred lemon or two will follow.

Photo by Tom McCorkle for the Washington Post (styling by moi!)

If she goes to the trouble to make rosemary oil and charred lemons she will certainly pull out the nice salt. And if she pulls out the nice salt she will want a good piece of bread.

Photo by Helen Norman for Bakery de France  (styling by moi!)

And on that bread, she will stack slices of steak, drizzles of rosemary oil, squirts of warm lemon juice and a shower of salt. Any girl with a good steak will want to make a sandwich. Indeed she will, any girl worth her weight in salt. Mais oui, sir! Mais oui!

Annnnd, as promised, the Slow Roasted Steak recipe from Becky Krystal at Voraciously. This preparation is a wonder.

 

No Phone, No Pool, No Pets

slippery corned beef

brined by this king of the road

carb/umami bomb

Rina Rapuano’s  story in the Washington Post about the Corned Beef King.

Put down that broom and read excerpts here:

buttery corned beef, sauerkraut that cuts through the richness of the meat, Swiss and Provolone cheeses, and Russian dressing, layered on fresh-baked rye and warmed on the griddle

the flavors and texture spoke to the great care that’s taken with the beef brisket. Rossler cooks the already-corned meat for 11 hours, a process that involves slow roasting and re-seasoning it with his own pickling spices, onions and “secret sweeteners.”

roasting the meat for more than three hours in nothing but garlic, butter, salt and pepper let the taste of the bird shine

corned-beef hash topped with two over-easy eggs (food truck breakfast. woot!)

corned beef to fill my frame
means by no means is my name

third boxcar, midnight train
destination…Bangor, Maine….