A few weeks ago, when I was driving home from work one night, a man on NPR mentioned cucumber sandwiches in a commentary on polo culture or English culture or something to that effect. The commentary itself was irrelevant. All my senses latched on to those two words: cucumber sandwiches. Just hearing it sparked a craving for those wonderful little treats that I drove home and made them for dinner that very night. I shaved delicate slices of cuke with my very special vegetable peeler Col bought me on a work trip to Seattle. I layered them atop thinly sliced pieces of maple oat bread, spread with a barely-there layer of mayonnaise. Then I ground fresh black pepper on top, with a pinch of sea salt. That is all. And it was perfect.
Tonight Col called me when I was leaving work, and the conversation led to food. What was for dinner, I asked? Everything seemed too complicated. What about egg salad sandwiches? I suggested. Col's reaction was just about on par with my own and the cucumber sandwiches. Any other dinner suggestions fell on deaf eggs, I mean deaf ears. Now, I'm writing this as I wait for the eggs to boil and in a few minutes, we'll have our sandwiches. And I'm wondering why don't we do this more often?
And what other sandwiches are we not having for dinner that we should be having for dinner because they're so easy and because they taste so good?