sandwich



salmon, cucumber, pesto on toast.


pesto first: hand cracked pine nuts, unbelievably tasty. mellow, of pine, resin like, soft to the chew. from china. pecorino romano, well aged, roman, sharp, crisp, salty, reliably coarse, chopped, not grated. green toscan olive oil, unfiltered, fragrant, peppery, sleazily slick. fresh basil. fresh basil. hands full of fresh ocimum basilicum anisettii, pungent, greenishly fragrant, of anise. named from the greek basileus, they say it was used then as some royal unguent. it apparently grew where they, constantine (before sainthood) and helen discovered the holy cross. (what is it with helen?) this according to the oed.
i am not catholic. so i pulsed the stuff very coarsely in the cuisine art, adding basil until i ran out. 

the cucumbers were easy: firm english cucumber, sliced on the mandoline at 1/32 inch.

the sockeye came fresh from newman’s, via alaska, i broiled it briefly on high, which is all it needed. it is not thick like the king and makes a great sandwich salmon.

and the toast is toast. a baguette, with a silvery thin crust and a lovely interior. from ken, but very parisian.

i ate the whole thing. here is proof.



thanks for reading these brief interludes, i’m deeply into infinite jest by david foster wallace. all’s i can do is sandwiches and soup. reading takes mostly all my time,  his writing is hysterically superb, deliciously so. anyone not familiar with the guy might consider the lobster and other essays to start out with. yes?


ps   if ever you think the pictures too small, just click on them. it really makes them bigger...