Lament for a Sandwich

In rereading the words I wrote below, I'm not sure that the title word "lament" is exactly correct. It may be that the more precise word might be "rant" though that word implies some amount of anger. I don't feel anger, but rather sadness, so perhaps I am lamenting after all.

A good sandwich, that most simple and pleasing of foods, is in my experience apparently a difficult thing to find, maybe not unicorn rare, but only slightly more commonly found. A sandwich is such a simple creation that it should be possible to find a good one almost anywhere. Not so, at least in our part of the world. Ann and I, we've given up on finding a reliably decent sandwich in Bend, Oregon.

As far as we have tasted, there are no outstanding delis or sandwich shops here in town. At least, the ones we have tried have left us wanting for the quality of sandwich that we expect. Clearly, we are in the minority in town, because time and again, acquaintances and web reviewers alike recommend to us the same places and while some are better than others, not a one of them is demonstrably a paragon of sandwich-making.

Maybe the simplicity of a sandwich is its downfall. After all, in a dish with very few ingredients, each must shine: there is no room to hide subpar ingredients or technique. A great sandwich really comes down to just two things, two very simple things: attention to detail in sourcing excellent ingredients and attention to detail in preparing them in a caring manner.

Entire Loaf Italian Cold Cut Sandwich, Feeds 4-6 People

What's really amazing and saddening to us is that creating a great sandwich is really easy to do. That is, we do it at home. Out of necessity, sadly. And if we can do it at home, certainly sandwich shops can do it as well, if not better than we can.

The really sad aspect of this dearth of great sandwiches is that delis and restaurants have all the advantages over us home cooks when it comes to making great sandwiches. They have access to great quality breads or even can make their own. They don't have to rely on pre-packaged deli meats, instead being able to slice their meats as needed or for the day. Some places even cure some of their own meats: I used to make my own pastrami at my restaurant, from first class meat and spiced the way I like it. Clear advantage to the deli over the home cook.

What I, as a retired chef, don't understand is why restaurants will not put the effort in to make a great sandwich. Is it because in a tourist town they have all the business they can handle? Is it because they don't care? Or is it because they are ignorant about what makes a great sandwich? Is it because a sandwich is too pedestrian to put effort into? Maybe the feeling is if customers don't care enough, a mediocre product is just fine?

Or is it because they don't think they can put out a top-quality product and still make a profit? As a restaurateur, I can certainly understand the last question, but being retired from the business, I no longer have a handle on the food, rent, insurance, licensing, and labor costs that drive the profit equation. But my restaurant consultant gut tells me that this is not the case: a great sandwich can be a profitable offering and a top-quality sandwich will drive volume sales.

To illustrate the care necessary to make a great sandwich, let's walk through making an outstanding Italian cold cut sandwich. It's not inexpensive to make, but it is what I expect, not the very lame examples that I have had at several places all over town.

A Single Serving

Select Great Bread. For a sandwich, select a loaf with a nice crisp crust and a soft, airy crumb. The crust cannot be so thick or so crunchy that it is hard to eat, however, or the bread so dense that the bread to filling ratio is off. I would love to be able to find such bread in single sandwich portions, but no longer being in the trade, I cannot. But I can still find great large loaves, thus, I make one large sandwich from an entire loaf and slice individual portions from it. Shout out to the Village Baker whose Italian-style striata loaf is one of the very best in town.

Source Top Quality Cold Cuts. I really like a good mix of flavors and textures and I find that four different types of cold cuts is just about perfect. I like the mix that I used for this sandwich: silky prosciutto di Parma, unctuous mortadella, smoky bresaola, and for the soppressata, I really like a spicy Calabrese. Great meats are not cheap, but you don't need a lot to make a great sandwich.

Select a Great Cheese. While I like provolone, a nice aged and dry one, I really adore thinly sliced fresh mozzarella on an Italian cold cut sandwich. An 8-ounce ball of good fresh cow's milk mozzarella  sliced very thinly is plenty for this whole-loaf sandwich. I would save the expensive and decadent bufala for something other than a sandwich.

Other Garnishes. For me, I like one of either fresh tomato slices or roasted red peppers. Both would make the sandwich too sloppy for my liking. We usually end up with roasted red peppers because tomatoes are rarely in season in Oregon and let's face it, Oregon does not grow as good tomatoes as hotter climates with long growing seasons. Furthermore, shipping ripe tomatoes from such locales is a losing proposition; great tomatoes do not travel. In my book, it is better to omit tomatoes than to use sub-par tomatoes, something that is lost on most restaurants. Also mandatory for me are a great leaf lettuce, thinly sliced red onions, and if available, fresh basil leaves.

Prep the Red Onions. Onion is critical for an Italian cold cut sandwich. Not only does it offer a slightly crunchy texture, its real purpose is to supply a bit of acidity to balance the fat of the cold cuts and cheese. Slice a red onion into very thin rings. If you don't have the knife skills for this, use a benriner slicer. Rub the onions gently in your hands with a bit of Kosher salt and place them in a non-reactive bowl. Cover with water and let stand five minutes. Drain off the water and cover them again for another five minutes. Squeeze out the water and the onions are ready for use. This process tones down some of the very aggressive onion qualities and makes them sweeter and much more palatable on a sandwich.

Prep a Tangy Dressing. A good vinegary dressing is essential to help counterbalance the fat of the meats and cheese. It's not possible to make a good Italian cold cut sandwich of the quality that I demand without making a decent dressing, which is neither hard, nor time consuming. I start with a couple tablespoons of red wine vinegar in a bowl, to which I add a mashed filet of anchovy, a pinch of salt, a teaspoon of dried oregano, a half a teaspoon of dried basil, and a tiny dab of a good mustard. After whisking this together with a fork, I start adding about 6 tablespoons of great extra virgin olive oil dribble by dribble, bringing the dressing together with the fork.

Toast the Bread. After slicing the loaf in half, put it on a sheet tray and drizzle it lightly with a little extra virgin olive oil. Then it goes under the broiler (here is where I really miss having a commercial salamander) until it lightly browns around the edges with maybe a hint of browning in the center. You want the bread warm with crispy edges, but you don't really want to toast it hard as the next step is to put dressing on the bread and you want that dressing to soak in a bit, difficult to do if the bread is highly toasted.

Dress the Bread. Spoon the dressing over both halves of the bread and spread it lightly but evenly with the back of the spoon. You want fairly even coverage without soaking any part of the bread.

Build the Sandwich. Lay all the ingredients on the base of the loaf and then put the lid on. I built the sandwich thus: roasted red peppers, destemmed leaf lettuce, prosciutto, mortadella, calabrese, bresaola, fresh tender basil leaves, red onions, and then fresh mozzarella. Another area where many restaurants miss the mark: I think it is important to season the roasted red peppers (or tomatoes) and the mozzarella with a little salt and pepper while building the sandwich.

I know this is a lot of words about making a simple sandwich, but this is a good description of what is necessary to build a great sandwich. And none of it is difficult which leads me right back to the initial question. Why cannot we find a great sandwich in Bend?

Linden Library Tasting

We signed up back in early December for the Linden Library Tasting yesterday. I was excited to go back and revisit some old friends that I hadn't tasted in years and some wines that I have never tasted. As we made our way south to Linden on an unusually warm (upper 60s) day for January, I couldn't help but notice the blanket of clouds draped over the mountains to our east, looking like a giant had placed a layer of cotton batting right on top of the mountains. It was a cloud formation that I have never seen before, a very thin layer of clouds to the east of the mountains and just a little bit spilling over to the western side of the ridgeline.

Fog Bound at Linden Vineyards

Wisteria in the Fog

I wondered a little bit about the clouds as we were driving south on a sunny day, but not too much. As soon as we turned east and starting climbing up to get to the east side of the ridge where Linden is situated, I noticed the sunshine starting to fade. As we climbed, it became a gray and foggy day and when we got to the winery itself, it was socked in and despite the moderate temperatures, too damp and misty to sit outside. But the fog did lend itself to some interesting photo opportunities.

My Beautiful Wife!

We arrived at 2pm in advance of our 3pm tasting with the idea that we would have a glass of wine and lunch beforehand. We started with a glass of the library wine that Linden pours in the winter time. On offer this weekend was the 1999 Glen Manor red, a great opportunity to taste what Jeff's Hodder Hill might taste like in 10-15 years. The wine has gone from purple to red with a slight clear ring around it. The fruit is very much where it should be now with wisps of dried blackberry leaves and tea wrapping around a core of cherry fruit. The finish is starting to disintegrate now though with the layers of oak starting to separate from the fruit. Ten minutes in the glass helped the wine bloom and a little food helped bring the finish back into line. I told Ann that I could drink this wine every day and be very happy: it is a feminine and nuanced wine.

Bloomsbury from Caromont Farm: Outstanding

For lunch, Ann and I were both excited to see that Caromont Farm's Bloomsbury, a Chaource-like bloomed rind cow's milk cheese, is back on the cheese list at Linden. We both love this cheese! To go with the remainder of our cheese, summer sausage, and bread, we also ordered a glass of the 2009 Hardscrabble Red. I was surprised to see it on offer; didn't think it was going to be released this soon. Although it is young and tight, at this stage, I believe that this is the best wine that Jim has ever made. I'm going to tuck some away in the cellar: I believe this wine is going to be phenomenal in 15 years.

The Library Tasting Set Up

At 3pm, we headed into the tasting room with Jim and Barb who took seats at either end of the table, with four guests on either side of the table. Four whites and four reds were already poured. We started with the whites: Louis Jadot Chassagne-Montrachet 2006 as a reference point and the Hardscrabble Chardonnay Reserve 1997, the 2002, and the 2006. Jim introduced each of the wines in turn and we all discussed whatever came to mind and peppered Jim with questions.

I didn't take any notes at all; this being my day off, I simply wanted to enjoy the experience. But some quick notes from memory. Chassagne: oxidized nose and palate characteristic of Bourgogne Blanc, well balanced with plenty of acid, not fruit-driven; very typical. Reserve '97: tropical Botrytized nose of pineapple with a hint of mango, deep golden, very ripe and weighty; bigger fruit that I am used to from Linden, my least favorite. HSC '02: very pale, mineral nose reminding me of cement-fermented Chablis, very crisp seafood wine much in the Chablis mold with a touch more fruit. HSC '06: one of my all-time favorite friends, tropical nose and superb balance between fruit and acid. I would love to taste this wine in another couple or three years. Delightful!

For the reds, we were served a small charcuterie plate (pâté de campagne, lomo, and bresaola) to serve as a foil for the tannins. This excellent charcuterie comes from Derek at the Whole Ox in The Plains. At Jim's insistence, we all kept a bit of the pâté back to taste with the dessert wine.

Charcuterie from The Whole Ox

The red line up was: Château La Tour Carnet 2000, Red Reserve 1997, Red Reserve 2001, and Hardscrabble Red 2002. La Tour Carnet is not a wine with which I am familiar and it presented with a funky Bretty nose. The Brett didn't extend to the palate and I quite liked the focused berry fruit with a strong acid core. The '97 is a wine that I had asked Jim about earlier in the afternoon, because he gave us a bottle for our wedding and I was wondering how it has developed and when to drink it. Awesome to get to taste it in advance of opening our bottle! It is a beautiful wine and my favorite of the day and I don't think it is going to get any better. It leads with a Cab Franc profile and is a bit herbaceous with a touch of bell pepper. The 2001, largely Cabernet Sauvignon, is a bit more angular but also drinking nicely, though I don't think it is as complex as the 1997. The 2002 is still hanging in and would be a crowed-pleaser if crowds could taste it. At 100% Merlot, it is soft and supple, but simple.

We finished the day with a taste of 2002 Late Harvest Vidal that is just brilliant. I've tasted this wine several times over the last 10 years and it is really coming into its own with caramel and crème brûlée notes weaving in and out of the tropical fruit. The color is a darker shade now than I remember it on last tasting. I imagine this beauty will still improve for some time and will drink well long after I am gone.