Guys. I am so sorry to have dropped the food aspect of ye olde blog. Believe me when I tell you that I have not been cooking very much at all. I am also more than a little embarrassed about my horrible digital camera that makes all food look like mud. I have made many curries, but they look so vile in pictures I don’t think it’s even worth the effort. It’s been so fucking hot lately, that leaving the confines of my air-conditioned office to stand in front of the stove is not even thinkable. Conversations with the husband tend to go like this:
Me: Hey babes.
Me: How was the drive home?
Him: Horrible. My head is killing me, and I’m freakin’ starving.
Me: Oh, that sucks. What do you want to eat?
Him: Did you not make dinner? What are you having?
Me: I thought I could just about manage this half of an avocado. And then I might have a Trader Joe’s lime popsicle later on.
Him: Um, I’d kind of like some actual food.
Me: Fuck, fine. It’s been a billion degrees and the kitchen is a sauna.
So, dear readers, when that happens (and it happens far more often than you might think), this is what I make him. The essence of late summer on a plate. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated. Three ingredients, tops. Magic.
A Sandwich for Late Summer
2 pieces white or wheat bread. (I leave the former untoasted, toast and cool the latter)
1 perfect tomato, sliced however you like it (me, medium for preference; thinner for him)
Mayonnaise. Good stuff. Don’t skimp.
Salt, pepper. A dash of hot sauce if you feel crazy. Don’t cloud this with bacon or basil or fancy cheese. It’s meant to be minimalist in every sense of the word.
Assemble your sandwich (what, you need me to tell you how to do this? Don’t be difficult). Listen to crickets if you can, frogs would be even better. If that is not possible, try the soundtrack to O Brother, Where Art Thou. More sad but rock and roll options include, “My Summer Girl” by the Rentals, or “End of the Summer” by Fifteen.