The Rollercoaster Principle

I was asked recently to clarify a point on open faced sandwiches. Here is Patricia's question:

"After our discussion concerning Danish open faced sandwiches, I have a question for you: As you know this type of sandwich is correctly eaten with a knife and fork... my question to you is: what if the sandwich is flipped and the filling is on the bottom and the bread on top? It MUST now be eaten with a knife and fork but is it still a sandwich? Just some food for thought!"

Here is my response:

If an open-faced concoction is deemed to be a sandwich, then flipping it over will not change its classification.

Here's why: If it's determined to be a sandwich in its upright form, this indicates that the item is not excessively messy (for more, see the Complete, Unambiguous Sandwich Definition). We're talking no gravy, no major sauce coverage. So, if flipped over, I'm assuming that there is a way to hold the thing
without getting too much of the contents/condiments on you. Ergo, it is still a sandwich. I.e., you could hold the meat with your thumbs, and tuck any pickles between the meat and the frame. If it's a loose meat sandwich, then we are in some trouble. At this point, if you insist on eating it flipped over, I suggest you eat over the sink.

The greater principle here is that a sandwich's classification cannot be affected by its angle of rotation. I will heretofore call this the Rollercoaster Principle: If it's a sandwich at the bottom of a rollercoaster's arc, then it's a sandwich at the top, when the passengers and their sandwiches are upside down.

Bitter Tea by The Fiery Furnaces

Bitter Tea: Dense but ultimately rewarding


Listening to a Fiery Furnaces album is like wading through a river of thick flowing caramel at its widest point. It can be painful, it takes a long time, and you might drown in a river of caramel. But if you make it to the other side, you are rewarded because there's sweetness dripping all around you.

Bitter Tea is no exception. After listening to the 72-minute album, I still don't really know what to think. Instrumental interludes interupt songs like a telemarketer during dinner, stubbornly hawking new wares that sound unlike anything that's come before.

The lyrics, at this early stage, make as much sense as German to a dolphin. Maybe that's because there's lots of backward singing, which kind of sounds like German. I've noticed some pleasing songs to listen to, but I don't know which ones, and I don't have the CD case in front of me.

Still, the Furnaces bring the originality. Wonky sounds and arbitrary non-sequitors weave a quilt that suggests a mind meld between Dr. Suess and Scott Joplin.

This reviewing experience has taught me that I need to listen to albums many more times before I can form anything as concrete as an actual opinion. You've got to uncork Bitter Tea, give it some air. Each time you taste it you'll get something different.

At this point, I'm still just wading in the caramel.

85-Pound Sandwich

For those unfamiliar with the conversion rates, 85 pounds is roughly equal to $170 CDN. That's a pricey meal by most measurements, but for this sandwich it's about right.

The McDonald sandwich, named for its creator Scott McDonald, executive chef of Selfridges department store in London, is a rare beast. It's loaded with tender Wagyu beef and other expensive, edible items carefully staged on a platform of "24-hour fermented sour dough bread."

You know that's some high quality bread if it's been fermenting for 24 hours. I've had the 12-hour fermented stuff and I'm sure it just doesn't hold a candle.

In all seriousness, I wouldn't hesitate to dole out $170 for a McDonald. At a hefty 21 ounces, it's worth its weight in pounds.

The Scone Witch -- A Delicious Hex

The salmon sconewich: quite buttery


As a hungry wise person once said, "You can't make sandwiches on bread alone."

Okay, I may have paraphrased that. But I think the people at The Scone Witch (388 Albert Street, Ottawa) heard it the same way.

They serve up a wicked variety of sconewiches, which, as you might expect, feature tasty sandwich contents framed by a buttery scone. Although you may prefer to eat them with a knife and fork, most sconewiches classify as sandwiches, since this decision has more to do with looking refined than the degree of mess the sandwich creates --- a key tenet in the Complete, Unambiguous Sandwich Definition.

Pictured above is a poached salmon concoction. The scone was light and fresh, and, though small, rather filling. Served with a salad, it leaves you satisfied. Not excessively suffonsified.

The restaurant's location is a little odd, though well suited to its name. Set up in a house just west of the business district in downtown Ottawa, it's surrounded by parking lots. One might expect the interior to be dank and cave-like, fortunately it's clean with lots of natural light.

The Scone Witch is a real Ottawa treat. If you haven't tried it, do. I'll be back soon.

My rating: four broomsticks.

Meatball Subs are NOT Sandwiches

Wanted: a roundburger


This poster has been floating around the 'net for a little while now. Given its relevance to DSI, and its substantiation of my view that a meatball sub is NOT a sandwich (it's a Roundburger -- see my Complete, Unambiguous Sandwich Definition from August 25, 2005) I thought I should post it.

The rumour I've heard is that this image is a likeness taken from a real "Wanted" poster of an infamous criminal from the American west, over 110 years ago. This guy apparently realized, moments before being gunned down following a daring bank heist, that the Meatball Sub cannot be classified as a sandwich due to the non-natural formed shape of the meatballs — just like a burger, which also exists in another class.

I haven't checked Snopes yet to verify.

Sandwich Haters -- Blue Man Group?

Pure conjecture.


I don't know for a fact, but I suspect that the Blue Man Group hates sandwiches.

Photo swiped from here.

"Treats" Lives Up To Its Name

Not a sandwich, but still good.


This place is something.

I think the quality of your experience must depend on which location you visit. Certainly the outlet at Kent and Albert in downtown Ottawa is without equal. The chef, and he deserves all the title connotes, is exuberant and a skilled flavourer. I highly recommend checking out his domain.

On Fridays the featured dish is quesadilla. The service is great, the atmosphere lively.

You may be scolded if you don't finish your soup.

Crêpes West

Every time my fiancé and I cross into Pacific longitudes we make three stops: Café Crêpe, Cupcakes, and the best hotdog stand ever.

Cupcakes and the best hotdog stand ever do not relate to sandwiches, so we'll deal with them another time.

Crêpes are sandwiches—French sandwiches—with origins dating back to classical Roman times. They have a frame and a filling, and do not entirely hide the tasty innards, placing the crêpe well within the Complete, Unambiguous Sandwich Definition (unless, of course, they are filled with an uncut burger patty or something equally bizarre).

Sweet or savory, equally at home on a plate or palm-wrapped, crêpe s are versatile. The one pictured above, an easy favourite, hosts spinach and feta. The buttery softness of the shell warms and melts the cheese, gooing up each bite.

But the beauty of the crepe, as with all sandwiches, is its ability to contain. Wrapped in a crinkling waxy paper, there is little fear of mess. You can the check out the massive maples and Douglas firs of Stanley Park, the shops and runners on Robson Street, the fleeces and hiking shoes at Kitsilano, confident that you're not leaving any precious crêpe on the sidewalk.

What a great city.

Homemade Panini

Melting the cheese is key


I got a sandwich maker recently. It's one of those appliances on the verge of impractical, especially if you don't have much storage space in your kitchen. Do people really use them, or do they just sit waiting on the shelf, between the juicer and the waffle maker? Valid questions.

For the record, my waffle maker sees frequent action, and so has the sandwich grill.

The joy of grilled sandwiches is in the bread, bun or whatever your outer layer. Lately, I've been buying beautiful baked ciabatta loafs. They're dense, heavy and the perfect size. And when you grill em right, they form a crisp outer crust that warms the contents of your panini.

The other reason to have a sandwich grill is, of course, to melt cheese. It really doesn't matter what type, as long as it's flowing.

The sandwiches pictured above had ham and turkey, old white cheddar, honey mustard, sweet pickles and tomatoes. I spray the grill with oil, squeeze it down, and a few minutes later we're ready.

They are close to perfect.

If It Acts Like a Croissant

Kerry's lunch


The croissantwich is a rarely discussed but genuine genus of order "sandwich."

And what a tasty order.

The morsel above, courtesy of Kerry, features cream cheese, crabmeat, and... I think I see some ruffage in there. Truthfully, I'm a little in the dark. I need Kerry to set it straight. Those are her hands too.

It looked good, so I had to show the world one of the few ways to improve on a French pastry.

Just add crab.

Marcello's: Brown-Bagging It

Ask for the special sandwich sauce


Marcello's has a few locations in Ottawa, and they're all jampacked at lunch on weekdays as hungry government workers discuss how to appease stakeholder coalitions. There's always a steady line at the sandwich counter, which must do tidy business custom-making sandwiches on fresh slices of whatever-you-want.

They do well, I think, because they keep it simple. The sandwiches I order could just have easily been made at home. Roast beef, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, pepper and mustard on fresh rye bread. Nothing tough about that. Except, perhaps, the freshness of the bread, and, of course, the special sauce -- the ingredient that keeps me coming back.

At four bucks apiece, the price is fair. If you're looking for a standout sandwich, something original, you should go someplace else. But if you're looking to fill your brown bag with a tasty sandwich, Marcello's delivers.

Summertime Sandwiches at the Ugly Iguana

Unbalanced, from a meat placement perspective


As winter turns to spring, guys' minds turn from thoughts of shovelling snow to visions of three-dollar sandwiches that don't skimp on the cold cuts.

The Ugly Iguana is hopping in May. As soon as the sun's out and the snow's gone, people populate the patio and line up to take away the arguably famous, arguably meat-filled sandwiches.

The one pictured above was not mine. It was DSI-regular Jason's, and he was not pleased with:
a) The amount of meat, and
b) Its unthoughtful placement on the bun

We decided to snap a pic.

It seems summer's rising humidity levels are inversely proportional to the meat distribution (a little something for the economists) on Ugly Iguana sandwiches. As the summer passes the amount of meat on these sandwiches tends to decline. Someone suggested the cause was the rising price of roast beef. I don't often trade on that market so I can't claim to know the going rate for a bun-full, but I'd say this sandwich was not a long-term investment.

I don't even know what that last part meant, but the search for the greatest sandwich continues.

Blue Gardenia: Invisible No More

Ample meat, roasted


On Ottawa's Bank Street just up from Laurier there sits Blue Gardenia, a diner-type lunch place. I must have passed it a hundred times before even noticing it. But that's my problem, and a whole other blog topic.

Recently it came into focus, like a 3-D puzzle. Probably a trick of light, or my hunger instinct told my eyes to find me a sandwich place worthy of my appetite. Maybe I blinked at the right time.

The place was packed. I ordered the roast beef sandwich. Fries. Had to wait a little while, standing crowdedly near the till. The staff was nice, unobtrusively friendly. I couldn't really tell who was working and who was just searching for mustard.

The sandwich was solid. Not exceptional, but definitely satisfying. Meaty and warm. Salty, but not puckeringly so. Plus, my Pepsi was ice cold, and the fries were crispy and hot. The peripherals cannot be disregarded.

It wasn't the best sandwich in the galaxy, but I will return to the Blue Gardenia. If I can find it.

White Spot Doesn't Hit It

Disappointing


I was out on the West Coast recently, the Vancouver area. For lunch on one sunny, mountainous day, I hit the comfort food staple White Spot. Opinion about this place is magnetically bi-polar; there are those who swear by it, and those who swear at it.

I ordered a roast beef dip, harkening back to my lunches in Queen's University's Leonard Hall cafeteria, where the 'dip' was a daily treat/torture device. Given White Spot's reputation, and my previous tasty excursions there (try the burgers), I expected to be met with a sandwich far exceeding anything scarfed during those undergraduate days.

Wrong.

First of all, it was small. Mean-dog small. Secondly, it was small.

Plus, the roast beef was quite fatty, and the fries weren't that great, and my pop was flat, and the dipping sauce -- the 'au jus' -- was thin. And it wasn't cheap. I could have got the same sandwich at a mom and pop diner for two-thirds the price.

Still, that's better than the price of eating at Leonard Hall cafeteria: tuition, plus room and board.

** Been to White Spot? What did you think?

A Shawarma Is a Sandwich

Those who have been following DSI have likely memorized the Complete, Unambiguous Sandwich Definition, and should not be surprised that a shawarma is a sandwich.

A sharwarma, or course, is a Lebanese sandwich delicacy, like a wrap but with way more garlic. Seriously, I had one for lunch and I'm feeling woozy, as the garlic has made its way through my veins to the heart and brain. I think my cubicle neighbour is feeling woozy too.

But it was a tasty lunch: a fresh chicken shawarma with confident garlic, crunchy lettuce, ripe tomatoes and pungent pickles. And a side of potatoes. I scored a free lesson in how to eat a shawarma properly (rip the paper as you eat, don't unwrap it all the way or juices will flow down you hand, soaking your pants and soul) from Jason and Casey, two aficionados.

I'm flying to Vancouver tonight to experience Pacific northwest sandwiches. Hope the people sitting beside me on the plane don't mind garlic.

Quiznos vs. Subway

Today I lunched with DSI regular Steve at a nearby Quiznos Sub joint. I've had a coupon staring at my from my cubicle half-wall for some time, so I thought I would cash in on it today. Lately I don't make lunches on Monday mornings, allowing myself to extend the weekend with 10 more minutes of slumber.

I find Quiznos interesting. It has a great product: fresh bread, lightly toasted, juicy meats and tangy sauces. I respect the effort it has made to distinguish itself Subway, the restaurant chain with the most outlets in North America, according to QSR Magazine.

Quiznos is setting itself apart with good quality ingredients, more spacious interiors, smart customer service, and generally paying attention to the details. Today when Steve and I were finished eating, the manager came over and took our trays for us and asked how the meal was. I appreciate that.

Subway is no slouch either. They have fast service, low prices and the best cookies in the land. I just wish they were a little more attentive to their fountain pop consistency, and took a little more care when laying out the meat on my Subway Club.

There is no winner in this battle, partly because the two brands aren't trying to be the same. Different sandwich options, different price points, different experiences. Just depends how much cash you've got to burn, and whether you want cookies.

The Complete, Unambiguous Sandwich Definition (CUSD)

CUSD Terms Explained

"Frame": The part of the sandwich you hold. e.g., bread, bun or wrap

"Essence": The filling. e.g., the cheese in a grilled cheese sandwich


The Definition

A sandwich is an assembly of food parts capable of being held without great hardship or mess.

All sandwiches possess a frame that covers some part of the essence. The frame must be made of a material that is in an edible state when the essence is added, and must have an outlet that exposes the essence before the first bite is taken. In other words, the frame may not completely surround the essence (e.g., a burrito), though the essence need not actually be visible.

The essence of a sandwich can be any substance, as long as it is not formed into a non-natural shape (e.g., any burger). Note, however, that a substance formed into a non-natural shape that is sliced and assembled within a frame as described above qualifies as a sandwich (e.g., salami).

In coming days I will provide more examples about what is, and what is not, a sandwich. Feel free to suggest your own examples.

I welcome your comments and questions. The definition seems airtight, but I know there are those who would like to see it defeated. If exceptions are noted, this definition may need to be altered.

But I doubt it.

Prelude to the Definition of a Sandwich

Hey guys, listen up. Gary, put down that hoagie.

Okay, now that I have you all here, I want to go over something of vital importance to the entire raison d'etre of Discovery Sandwich International: the definition of a sandwich.

I know, I know, it’s be en done before. So called aficionados have pitched in their two cents on the essence of a sandwich. Well open your eyes to this, fools, here comes my ten dollars: The Complete, Unambiguous Sandwich Definition.

Other definitions have exceptions. Loopholes. Holes. Loops. CUSD? None.

Other definitions are rainbows of speculation. CUSD will be fact, in stark black and white.

Okay, pick that hoagie back up. For it is a sandwich, and CUSD is coming at you. Soon.

Mission: Discover the Edible

It is with great pleasure that I launch Discovery Sandwich International. I've always wanted to write about sandwiches; always wanted to be a sandwich critic, and now that day has come.

Now that this small dream has come true, I have decided to be less a "critic" and more a "complimentic", a word I just made up, focussing on the good in each and every sandwich discovered.

From my homebase in Canada's capital city, I will find, pay for, and eat any sandwich on the market, relating to you, dear reader, all that is tasty. Bon appetite! (for my American readers: Happy eating!).