This morning we all got up early and went to get cruffins from Mr Holmes, a bakery in San Francisco. (I secretly hope there’s a rival joint called Dr Watson around the corner selling muissants, muffins in the shape of croissants). The muffins were gloriously ridiculous, a frankenfood combining match, strawberry jam, croissants and muffins, and well worth the wait. Afterwards, I retreated to the couch and read one of the cookbooks I bought yesterday, A Super Upsetting Cookbook About Sandwiches.
This is a wonderful book, possibly written by somebody who is very drunk. There’s a recipe for squid that’s almost completely redacted, there’s advice on veggie burgers:
Put the burgers on buns with whatever toppings make you feel badass, listen to “The Boys Are Back In Town” by Thin Lizzy, eat your super-awesome veggie burger, and flip people off from the window.
There’s an entire chapter on sandwiches that are puns based on Meat Loaf (the singer) and meatloaf (the food). There’s a sandwich called Famous Battles Of Rap History. And through it all, the recipes are neither so basic you feel you wasted your cash, nor too baroque to attempt. They’re sandwiches, after all.
At the same time, there’s political advice around not eating shrimp (sustainability concerns and potentially a food farmed by slaves), there’s a valid point of view around what to do when you have substandard ingredients, and a general no-nonsense approach to making food that makes you happy. I finished the book (incapable of getting through any chapter without reading parts of it aloud) in just over an hour, and it excited me about food in a way even cruffins struggle to do so.
Then I went out for mimosas for lunch, but as soon as I’m back in Singapore I’ll be on sandwich duty.