Sunday, November 9, 2008
I love simple tea sandwiches. Okay, sandwiches in general. But first and last, I love a thinly sliced ripe cuke or tomato salted and allowed to lose a bit of water, a tiny bit of tuna or chicken pecan salad, or a bit of egg salad with a blanched sliver of leftover asparagus, each gently nudged between two slices of Pepperidge Farm Thin, or in today's case, a British toasting sliced white bread I found at the market.
For a shower, it's best to trim the crusts carefully and be sure you've no wayward crumby-lines of bread hanging off, use cookie cutters to create different shapes, and edge some in herbs or finely chopped nuts. But at home for lunch or a snack, I still appriciate the easy softness of the bread mixed with the crispness of the middle and the comfort of knowing I don't have to struggle to arrive at a light meal which reminds me of something I am attached to from long ago. Though, I cannot identify what that is by anything more than to tell you I love tiny soft sandwiches in every incarnation.
I don't usually write to you about some small lunch my Tiny Girl and I shared. I realize that to be considered a remarkable blogger, the food needs to be stylized and top-line interesting: Not some little shaved and lightly salted cucumber on good bread, and spread with a paper thin layer of dill butter on each side to prevent the cucumber from saturating the bread. Sure, I realize you may be high minded and find my noting such a thing an obstuse bore. I note it more because I loved these special little sandwiches long ago from some good memory and I feel lucky to have been there as my little girl began her own tea sandwich memories.