|Earl of Sandwich|
|March 2, 2006|
I secretly want to be Dagwood Bumpstead. Seriously -- he sleeps on the couch, he's got those crazy-ass bangs that stand up seemingly without product or any other help, and he makes the most juicily extravagant sandwiches that are only complete when they've been crowned with a pimento-stuffed olive wearing a toothpick as a hatpin.
Sandwiches are my comfort food. Yes, I love the banks of thick mashed potatoes with gilded rivulets of burnished butter running down their carbilicious sides, and I frequently want to rub myself down with the Stouffer's mac and cheese, but there's just something about the sandwiches. They're sort of snacky yet they're also a meal.
...Replacing my favorite Boston sandwiches has been an uphill battle since we moved to the Bay Area. I mean, there's great food, like, EVERYWHERE, but I have yet to find a neighborhood spot that can fill the stomach-growling gap of those sandwiches.
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