Gwarn mek it bun...

There is a lot that I have learned from reggae music.  And, seemingly, the lessons continue to be taught.  Last week, I was at the Good Life Market in Bernal Heights picking up my usual lunch..a Semifreddi sourdough baguette, 1/2# Black Forest ham and marinated olives.  

As the slidey-on-slidey sandwich architecture hurdle is always at the forefront of my consciousness (see 4/17 post), I am forIver looking for a the perfect roll/loaf to become my right-hand-man sangwich vessel.  I've tried the Italian country loaf (good, but too bready...needs a proper slicer), the herb slab (good, but not for every sammy), and the sourdough round loaf (good, but unweildy...also has inherent problem of two slices not being the same size creating this weird pyramid-base sandwich type of thing).  But the one roll that I have not been working with, for no other reason than it was a selling point of a Jack-In-The-Box campaign a few years back (fast food is soulless, but that its for another rant altogether), is the what looks to become the grand champion...the Ciabatta roll.   Mind you, I've worked with the Ciabatta loaf with good - but not great - results.  But the roll....now I'm onto something.  Something that apparently I should have been more interested in searching out earlier.  Crunchy outside...check.  Soft inside (good for soaking up dressing...and, when paired with crunchy outside, helps to avoid sogginess)...check.  Slightly domed shape with flat bottom (good shape for getting your mitts around)...check.  Can be slightly hollowed out to help mitigate slidey-on-slidey...check.  Can stand up to a panini press...check.

On first blush, it would seem that this Ligurian gift to the sammich maker is without flaw.  I'm not sure, but will be working with it in an attempt to see what comes back.  Getting back to my opening comment...I have a good feeling that this is another lesson that reggae has taught me.... 

The stone that dem builder refuse will always be the head conerstone.

Reports from the sandwich board will be posted as they filter in.

Mediterranean Tuna Sandwich

A good, light sandwich for a hot day.  Super refreshing, it's packed with flavor and protein.

1 piece Lavash bread

1 can Italian yellow fin tuna in EVOO

1 Meyer lemon

2 T lemon juice

cucumber

pitted olives

red onion

hummus

salt

pepper

Lay the Lavash flat on the sandwich board. Cut the Meyer lemon in half and extract as many seeds as possible, without damaging the fruit's shape.  Using a slicer or mandolin, thinly slice the lemon into rounds.  If the are too thin  and are breaking in the slice, that is OK.  Too thick is not OK. 

Gently press-drain EVOO from tuna.  In a mixing bowl, combine tuna (with any residual EVOO) and lemon juice, along with salt and pepper.

Using a slicer or mandolin, thinly slice cucumber and red pepper.  I haven't offered amounts, because I usually cut them to my liking based on how I am feeling that day.

Olives are going to offer a nice, briny compliment to the fish.  Kalamata olives would make sense here.  Good spanish olives would work, too.  I use large green garlic-brined olives that Lucca deli (22nd/Valencia)* sells.  If you are in SF, it's a good old-school deli to check out.  Loads of great food stuffs.

Looking at the Lavash like a rectangle in front of you, oriented as a wide rectangle (vs. a long rectangle). You will only include ingredients on the right hand side.  From top to bottom lay out your lemon slices.  On top of those, add your tuna.  On the sides of the tuna, add the olives.  Add onion slices and cucumber.  On the left half of the Lavash, spread hummus, leaving a 1/2" border.

Turn the Lavash a 1/4 turn clockwise.  This reorients the Lavash as a long rectangle.  The side with the ingredients should be closest to you, while the side with the hummus is furthest away.   Roll the Lavash away from you, as tightly as you can without breaking it  The hummus will help the bread to adhere to itself.  The 1/2" border allows for the hummus to spread a bit, without causing a mess.

Slice in half.  Eat.

*FYI - There are multiple Lucca delis in the city, and I've been told that they are not necessarily related.  22nd/Valencia is specifically the one that I am referring to.

No Phony Baloney

Baloney is good. Good and trashy.

Kosher baloney...a bit better.

Mortadella, though, now you've got something.

It's kind of like the English/Scottish/Irish/Ozzie ability to make an inappropriate/offensive/crass statement sound nothing short of charming. Italians can do this exact thing, too, as it relates to baloney (among other things). Mortadella, a deli meat/cold cut that was originally made by grinding ingredients to a paste with a mortar and pestle (hence the name) and then reformed into a sausage, is something bordering on perfection. I've had the opportunity to eat good mortadella in two separate occasions within the last week. Once at La Ciccia (30th/Church) as part of the salumi platter, and again on a sandwich with cuts that I had picked up at Lucca (22nd/Valencia) prior to hitting Dolores Park. Very good stuff without the stigma of the red-ringed WTF that paired so well with yellow mustard and white bread during my childhood. Mortadella can stand up to the tastiest prosciutto, copa or salami in reputation, as well as taste.

Don't get me wrong. I'm trashy. I like baloney. But, in those instance where I need to put on the appearance that I wouldn't...

1.) drink a tallboy can of Bud

2.) in a Smokey and The Bandit-era Trans-Am

3.) in cut-off jean shorts

4.) while listening to Molly Hatchet

5.) on a Tuesday at 2pm

6.) at the drop of a hat, given the chance...

...I now have my go to.

From Haiku to Vinaigrette

So, last weekend, I got some great blood oranges at the farmer's market. I love the blood orange. A cross section is about as beautiful a fruit, save for a papaya with seeds, as you may ever find. That, however, is a line of thought for another time. A fruit beauty pageant. Hell yes. But back to what I was talking about.

Blood oranges. I had one on Wednesday that so took me, I had to write a poem about it. A haiku, because that has rules that help me to focus. 5/7/5*. And, because my free form poetry sucks.

Blood orange you are

Spring's sweet tart easily peeled

Stained hands remember

It got me thinking. Citrus vinagrettes have always been popular. Citrus as acid instead of vinegar as acid, coupled with oil, is not ground breaking. Blood orange vinaigrette...again, not ground breaking. That said, it did move me...into to the kitchen.

2T blood orange juice

1 clove garlic, minced

1 t shallot, minced

1/4 t mustard flour

Salt

Pepper

Whisk these together. Once mustard flour has dissolved, slowly add 1/4 cup canola oil, whisking the whole time. Why canola? No flavor to mask the orange/garlic/mustard notes.

Use on nicoise sandwich, tuna sammy, as olive marinade.

* I have oversimplified the haiku. Not out of disrespect or apathy for its cultural importance. More-so because I'm not really sure that anyone reading this cares. In fact, I'm not sure if anyone is actually reading this. If you are, and you care, please accept my apology.

Slidey on Slidey

I did it again. I know better, but I always end up cracking under the pressure. It's like I get so excited about the sandwich that I forget my past transgressions against myself. Much like how I feel each time I quit quitting smoking. I know better, but...

Slidey on slidey. Why? Do I oversimplify? Maybe. Bread, stuff, bread. Simple, right? No.

No ham on avocado on cucumber on tomato. What can I tell you about that combo? You may as well put it in a slingshot, because that's going to shoot out of the bread the minute that the most delicate pressure is put on it. Not good.

A hierarchy of materials, based on their slidey or non-slidey qualifications, is needed. I'll begin work soon.

Until then, maybe I should have my palms tattooed. [Slidey O] [n Slidey]. Maybe a post-it near the sandwich board is better.