Years ago I was working at 41st and 5th in Manhattan, opposite the infamous library lions. The building next door had a deli downstairs that made fantastic sandwiches and a couple of times per week I’d go there and pick up lunch and a soda to have at my desk.
One day, the proprietor had on the radio as usual, but the line was longer than usual. Someone said they recognized the music and I agreed but couldn’t put my finger on it. The owner said he’d buy lunch the next day for the patron with the correct name of the composer and song. People guessed, and all of a sudden, out of nowhere I blurted out “Orpheus in the Underworld, by Offenbach.” Whatever long-term memories are tucked into that brain of mine I do not know. They surprise me all the time.
A couple days later my turkey sandwich was on the house! It was the Can-can dance that everyone can sing but no-one knows the operetta or composer. Sheer dumb luck, perhaps, but it’s the only thing I’ve ever won in my life and five bucks when you’re trying to live alone in NYC is a gift.
Now I want to tell you about a sandwich I loved, even before I moved to NYC. There was a basement restaurant on my street with a vegetarian sandwich. It started with 12-grain hearty bread and included layers of (forgive me I don’t recall the layering) raw spinach, thinly-sliced mushrooms, tomato, perfect-temperature Brie, alfalfa sprouts… that’s all I remember. Our food delivery folks came last week with a beautiful loaf of oat-topped ten-grain bread and I’m thinking of making this sandwich. For a meat and potato guy, go figure.
I thought you might like to hear about those memories. Shall I tell you about Sauerbraten and red cabbage? Maybe next post.
Cooking with Dee 