by Hans-Gustav Schwartz

Created on: September 10, 2008

John Montagu, the Fourth Earl of Sandwich, seems to have had a penchant for the gaming tables. Spending hours patronizing Lady Luck, it seems John would get hungry, and, as any respectable member of the gentry would do, he simply ordered his manservant to bring him a piece of meat placed between two slices of bread. This was 18th century England, the sandwich was born, and, as they say, the rest is history.

To this very day, there are many who turn their noses up at haute cuisine in favor of the noble sandwich. The wonder of this simple, yet sophisticated idea is the multitude of options one has at putting together a meal that, although attributed to a member of the landed gentry, can be enjoyed by even the most common of commoners.

As a boy, I favored the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The ruby-red jelly oozing from between the two slices of white bread were a culinary indulgence, indeed. I also remember my mother giving me, as I whined about my hunger, a simple slice of white bread with butter and a bit of sugar sprinkled on top. It always killed my immediate hunger without spoiling my appetite for dinner. Ah, the simple joys of youth.

As I got older, my tastes matured and I became a fan of the club sandwich. Currently I live in Asia and, it's safe to say, I've not had a decent club sandwich in ten years. A club sandwich is simply two (NOT THREE) slices of toasted bread, between which is placed chicken (although turkey is very popular these days), dry and crispy bacon, a sumptuous slice of tomato, a leaf or two of lettuce and my favorite condiment, mayonaise. James Beard confirms my statement that the original club sandwich was but two slices of bread and the third slice made it's appearance sometime after the Second World War. In fact, the origins of the club seem to date back to the late 19th century and this sandwich was a favorite King Edward. Somebody needs to tell the people of Asia that a club sandwich does NOT include a fried egg. This is pure and senseless blasphemy.

One day, while watching one of the many TV cooking shows, I saw someone prepare a lovely sandwich which used a french roll for the bread. The roll was sliced partially in two, and then spread apart and slathered with mayonaise. Then, several slices of very rare roast beef were inserted, and finally it was topped off with a lovely egg salad. I had never thought of eggs and beef before. I rushed out and tried it and, to my dismay, it was every bit as delicious as the man on TV said it was.

While

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