Lunchtime Review : Shop Bought Sandwich

In which I get a meal deal for lunch.

The Menu.

Ingredients: Whatever was on the shelf

Preparation: None what-so-ever

Cost: £3.00 more than I should have paid

Amuse-bouche

I’m a good husband, I know this due to the admiring look I get from Mrs G in the morning as she realises once more she has woken up next to me and won the life lottery. To help remind her how lucky she is I like to do nice little things for her like making the sandwiches for work. It was while doing them last night that I was once again able to show my chivalrous side and act all knightly by sacrificing my own nutritional needs for hers.

We had just about run out of bread, and this being a key component of a sandwich left me in a bit of a dilemma. With only two slices of the loaf left who should get lunch? Spoiler alert – based on the fact the topic of the post is “shop bought” not “home-made” then I think it’s safe to say that Mrs G is tucking into a nice Parma ham sarnie while I pop to the store for a shop bought sandwich.
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Lunchtime Review : The Cottage Pie Sandwich

In which I combine meat, potatoes and bread.

The Menu.

Ingredients: Cottage pie and bread

Preparation: A moment of inspiration

Cost: Nothing, but my genius

Amuse-bouche

There are pivotal moments culinary history where everything changed. The first time that someone stuffed pig flesh back inside its intestinal lining and fried it, or the person who took a strong-smelling member of the onion family and put it on bread. These oven-shattering events have bought joy and pleasure to stomachs throughout the years.Last night I had one of those moments, a flash of taste inspiration that I believe has the potential to reinvent the sandwich. Not in the “take one piece of bread away and now you have an open sandwich way” (that’s just half a sandwich) but in a way that reverbs all the way to the tomb of John Montagu.May I introduce the cottage Pie sandwich.
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Lunchtime Review : Roast Dinner Sandwich

In which I stick a whole meal in a sandwich.

The Menu.

Ingredients: Everything from a roast dinner.

Preparation: Lots of time cooking, not long sandwiching

Cost: Free, leftovers are zero cost

Amuse-bouche

A while back I discovered a sandwich that was advertised as a Roast Dinner sandwich, I was fully expecting it to take over the world. I was living in a Sarnie 2.0 reality. Unfortunately it seems that it was a false dawn in subwayology (they paid for the rights to name the art of sandwich making).
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Lunchtime Review : Last night’s meatballs

In which I wrap up my cold balls for lunch.

The Menu.

Ingredients: Beef Meatballs in tomato sauce wrap.

Preparation: The remnants of last night’s dinner.

Cost: Free, because waste not want not.

Amuse-bouche

We’re back to cooking for two but eating for four, one culinary skill I have yet to learn is the ability to size out portions. Inevitably I’ll end up with not enough vegetables (what a shame) and too much meat (if that is at all possible).

So for lunch today I have the remnants of a At-Home-Date-Night to munch on, the aftermath of a lovely Italian meal cooked at home.
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Lunchtime Review : Bangers and Mash

In which I grab a couple of links and a jug of gravy.

The Menu.

Ingredients: A couple of sausages and mashed potatoes

Preparation: Work canteen

Cost: £4.40

Amuse-bouche

How would you how good a company is to work for? Maybe look at how much are they paying you or research in the the opinions of ex-staff, they may even be one of the the various best places to work for (although these polls now feel like a Buzzfeed article).

I have my own particular way of determining a corporation’s worth, check what food you can get from the canteen.
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Lunchtime Review : Kebab Meat and Chips

In which I eat daytime kebab.

The Menu.

Ingredients: Mixed kebab meat and chips

Preparation: From the local kebab house

Cost: £3.90 (and six weeks of life expectancy).

Amuse-bouche

Some people eat chocolate, others ice cream, but when I get frazzled I need to have something greasy like chips to make me feel better. Dealing with immigration services has certainly taken the vim from my step so off to the kebab shop it is.
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Culinary ring of fire

In which I want the high notes on the Scoville scale

I see food as a challenge, whenever I see a potential culinary challenge I feel like I need to attack it. All you can eat is an open invitation to try, and if there is an exotic cut of meat I’m going to try it.

This has got me into problems more than once, Mrs G complains that I think I can eat like a big game hunter but ostrich, alligator, boar have all lead to dietary ramification which mean I am now restricted to a “farmyard” only diet.

Where I will still take risks is with capsaicin. I see the Scoville Scale as a guide and the higher the better. I just can’t get enough of hot and spicy foods.

When I head to Nando’s (for those not familiar with Nando’s you are missing out, it’s Peri-Peri chicken from the gods) I like to go for the hottest sauce I can. It will totally obliviate the taste of the meat but if you are going hot and spicy you are not too bothered if your chicken was corn-fed.
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The Joylessness of mushrooms

In which I am not a fungi.

Texture, that is what it comes down to. I am pretty much happy to eat anything, but if it feels funny when I chew then it is mouth-verboten. This is a rule that has excluded many a food group from my digestive tract.

Kidney and liver is too spongy, cruciferous vegetables put me off with their leaves and bobbles and I’m not overly fond of nuts (especially coconuts and their strangely chewy innards). For all of these I am also put off by both the taste and smell. They complete the triumvirate of hunger suppressors that make me avoid eating them and as a result they don’t make my stomach turn.

Only one foodstuff can do this, mushrooms. I love the smell of cooked mushrooms and I love the taste of a mixed grill cooked with them, but that texture makes me squirm.

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Lunchtime review : Airplane Food

In which it’s chicken or fish.

I am hungry.

I’m hungry at 29,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean. I have 3 hours before I land and then an hours queue through customs before I can even think about feeding myself with some aging sandwich.

This is because I am currently experiencing that feeling anyone who travels by air feels at some point, the pangs that come with being unable to eat the unpalatable concoctions that will be placed in front of you by a gurning stewardess who wants to know do you want disgusting Dish A or Dish B? It’s the hard or rock place choice of inflight food.

 

When Jean Valjean says “If I speak I am condemned, if I stay silent I am damned” I can’t help put feel this is how most think when presented with the sealed foil containers on a tray. Do I condemn my stomach to a mushy orange lump, or stay silent and damn myself to hunger?

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