Today, I cried over food…
Not because I was starving…
Not because it cost too much…
But because it was a perfect sandwich, and it made me happy every time my incisors dived into its delicate brioche surface…
But now, it shall be no more.
There is a magic in food of certain flavors; that combination of notes activating your senses and coloring your memory. And this was mine…the sweet apple, the sherry dijon-dashed arugula, and the bite of a fiesty cheddar (I love a good savory punch after some heavy-handed treacle). On my most terrible of days, I could wander into this specialty café and the wonderful young women there would whip up this monument to the 4th Earl of Sandwich, John Montagu. Alas, this establishment will close tomorrow afternoon and with it, my sandwich days there will have come to pass.
However, like the little whisper of hope that left Pandora’s box of evils – all is not lost: One of the lovely workers scratched down the name of the bakery where I could get the bread, the types of cheddar, apple, and mayo to use, and a small heart symbol with a peace sign. I now possess the secret alchemy to try my own hand at sandwich perfection.
My last Turkey Apple Cheddar sandwich at my favorite café. Sad, and drooling.
Lexicon Ninja 