One day, I was eating a sandwich. And by day, I mean one morning, first thing. See, I woke up late for work. I wake up late for work everyday, but I still refer to it as late. The reason I was going with a sandwich was that I needed to eat my sandwich in my car, since I was running later than usual.
As I didn't have much time to put the two together, I was looking for available sandwich types. First, bread. I found bread in the cupboard that Jon had bought when the local grocery store chain had been decimated by shoppers who would have starved during a one day snow storm. The bread was specifically for French toast, but looked like normal bread. I smelled it, it smelled like bread. I decided to go with the French toast bread. Decision made.
Next I needed to find something to put in between the bread. I had bought liverwurst a couple days earlier. It seemed like a strange breakfast choice. I wondered if I'd smell like liverworst for the rest of the day. I decided to risk it. As I pulled the slimely liverwurst slices out of the plastic, I smelled the metallic stench of the iron in the air. This was going to be delicious.
The clear condiment choice was mayo. Nothing to think about there. I slapped some on each piece of bread with enthusiasm. There's nothing like a liverwurst sandwich first thing in the morning to get you ready for a day in an office.
I finished assembling my sandwich while I pondered why I don't care about getting to work on time.
Finally assembled, I took a bite. To bready. So bready that I imagined I'd need to dip the bread in a glass of water like those hot dog eating contest guys.
I decided to take them slow, it took most of my 26 minute drive to get them down.
In between bites, I considered what could have saved the sandwich. More meat? I think that would have made it too meaty. I decided to shelve those thoughts until I had more time to think about it.
Later that night I discovered the calorie count on the bread bag, 170 per slice. My sandwiches were 700 calories of bread. So much for that new years resolution. Damn bread.
Days later, I was on the treadmill. Thoughts of the sandwich came back to me. I began to imagine the ideal way I would have made the sandwich, and it came to me. Thinner bread. I've always liked thinner bread. I've never been a fan of subs. I also don't like thin bread sandwiches with too much meat. Then I realized, my favorite part of the sandwich is the condiment. Too much bread dilutes the mayo. Too much meat overpowers the mustard.
I settled back into my running with a calmer mind.
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