Brave New Sandwich: The ‘what is wrong with you’ sandwich
Words by Ben Smoke
Illustration by Kay Ogundimu
Greater men than I have lost their minds contemplating the condition of humanity.
To understanding the complex web of experiences, thoughts and feelings that pull tight around each of us with such intense brightness that it burns into sentience. I think we as humans are predestined to wrestle with the overwhelming urge to understand ourselves and the impulse to distract ourselves from that very quest because, deep down, we know life and all that that entails, is far more complex than any of us could ever possibly imagine.
It’s why we search out vehicles and mediums to understand ourselves. Safe little methods or spaces to question and pull threads that won’t unravel the entirety of life’s rich tapestry. I believe that the humble sandwich is one of those mediums. As such, you can tell a lot about a person by what they chose to do in between two slices of bread - or more, who am I to judge?
For some it’s a bready uterine paradise within which familiar flavours, textures and ideas come together to form something reliable and constant in an ever changing world. For others, it’s a safe place to push the boundaries of culinary and indeed human exploration. The sandwich is the site of gastronomic adventure. What people choose to do with it can range from the pioneering to the outright feral.
It’s here, within that great experiment, that we draw inspiration for our new series Brave New Sandwich. Ranging from savage sandwiches so sinful they deserve only to be consumed alone, shrouded in darkness, to epicurean innovation so indulgent it’ll stop you in your tracks – this series celebrates the cutting edge of cuisine. Speaking of the former, our inaugural episode focuses on a concoction by our print editor Josh Jones. It’s a hangover creation so feral it had Sandwich 7 cover star Benny Blanco asking “What is wrong with you?”
It’s the saying: “Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should”, but in food form. This Brave New Sandwich starts with a piece of bread (“seeded for health”). Next comes a giant dollop of cream cheese - so far, so normal.
We shot this premiere episode as Josh was in LA on a very exciting shoot for the next issue of Sandwich magazine (!!). With eight hours of time difference between us, our hero was not easily reachable for clarifying questions on the construction of his own Frankenstein's monster. It’s within this context that we decided what must surely come next was lettuce – shredded of course. We added sweetcorn, Salt Bae style, and on top came some sausages. A healthy squirt of mayonnaise on top (oh, matron) and we were on track for a nice sausage sandwich! A fun twist on a classic! It’s here where the wheels start to come off.
A bag of crisps – prawn cocktail to be very specific – are crunched and added before a top slice, smeared with, for some reason peanut butter?? comes slamming down.
Upon Josh’s return to Sandwich HQ, I proudly showed him what we’d created in his honour with all the aplomb and ceremony of a cat dragging a half eaten mouse into the front room as a present. Chuffed as he was at the mutilated vermin we’d created in his honour, he informed me that our layering was off. The original did not see a flash of iceberg dropped onto the cream cheese as in our rendition but instead a smudge of peanut butter - crunchy - smeared atop it like some faecal pollockian nightmare. This, I am told, makes all the difference, though I remain unpersuaded.
I’m an open minded man of the world. I’ve spent more time than I’d care to admit in east London basements doing things to bring shame on the good name Smoke and yet, even I baulked somewhat at putting this thing in my mouth.
After much hesitance I pushed through my disgust, in the name of Journalism. A hectic combination of tastes, textures and intentions met my taste buds as I bit into the Sandwich. It was complex. Challenging. On the cusp of something great. And yet, I’m sorry to report that fundamentally, it was foul. The erratic mix of flavours and traditions worked against one another as any crunch it might have once had was dissipated by far, far too much wet stuff. The lack of structural support meant the cream cheese, peanut butter and mayo combination (why?) quickly overwhelmed the sandwich, turning it into a mushy, disparate slog.
Many of the great innovators were derided in their lifetimes. True genius, it is often said, is never truly recognised in real time. Maybe this sandwich is that. Maybe one day, sandwich scholars will look back on this piece with scorn. Perhaps history will mock me for my closed-mindedness. For my lack of vision. As I slowly masticated, I felt confident that I chewed on the right side of history. That any, and all, of right mind individuals would see this as the desperate, hungover cry for help that I think it represents.
This series is here to celebrate the bravery to push the boundaries of the sandwich in any and all forms. It is on that basis that we must applaud Josh’s ingenuity. His chutzpah. His audacity. Though his sandwich failed the basic standards of edibility, perhaps it will be the launchpad for the next generation of innovators to create the next, great Sandwich.
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