Food has a way of marking time. Sandwiches have a way of putting bookends on it.
It was elementary school when I entered my “super duper” into the Kraft “make Your best sandwich” contest. It was white bread, Mayo, that famous plastic cheddar single slice with tomato, onion, mustard, pickle and lettuce.
Later in those years I moved to an even more eccentric yellow mustard, green onion and salami combo. Still love that today – ate it while I was pregnant.
My dad made grilled cheese and added Mayo and tomato. “The Melt” he called it, with canned tomato soup. On days he stayed home with work due to inclement weather, I could smell it coming the door from school.
When summer comes it’s time for “good” ham (all ham is good) with garden tomatoes, Mayo and black pepper – just like Mom made.
During the recession and jobless for a blink I ate creamy chicken Ramen paired with an egg salad sandwich on toast. Comfort food at its finest –
But I probably didn’t have to ask where the extra pounds packed on.
And then there’s this specialness. This week I realized I had actually forgotten my “Lockdown lunch” made by the love of my life. It’s mayo and salami on a low carb wrap with cucumbers and dressing on the side. It was strange to think we were all locked up and hanging out to see what’s next. This week since he’s home, I was surprised with lunch and for a moment that odd “what are we doing here anyway?” Feeling came back.
Sandwiches – so many, so many memories. Thoughts between bread. #blessed
Living Aloud Allowed 
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