I was away for work in Miami for a few days, and ate my face off on South Beach in between events and meetings and writing by the pool with the warm sun beaming down on my skin. Now I’m back in New York City. In the cold. With no pool.
Yes, it took me two weeks to get this right. But boy was it worth it.
Spinach. I went there. E didn’t come with me.
Here’s a delicious Italian version of the shooter sandwich that I made right before Super Bowl Sunday.
I’m back from a week of wine, chocolate, sandwiches, goose, eggnog and French Fries in Florida. Now it’s time for a reset!
Figs. I love them. Particulary fresh, particulary on a sandwich.
I was lucky enough to have lunch with Jean-Georges Vongerichten the other day for a boozy holiday celebration sponsored by Bon Appetit. Yes I get around.
Somehow, after cooking a 20 pound turkey, greens, stuffing, homemade bacon jam and a sweet potato pie, the 300 Sandwiches house has no leftovers.
Three more days until a four day weekend and eating until we pass out on the closest available flat surface. Bring. it. on.
When you live alone, or are expecting just one or two guests to your cozy home for Thanksgiving dinner, you don’t need to cook an entire turkey.
In order to satisfy my end of the 300 sandwiches challenge, I had to make sandwiches that E wanted to eat. This did not include spinach or avocado.
I blame the iPhone 6 from keeping me from posting this sammie I did last week.
When you are running late for your out of town excursion and you will not be satisfied with a bag of Funyuns or a hot dog from the Gulf station on exit 73 again, you need to make a quick snack before you hit the road.
See this here? I ate that whole thing the other day. And I will not feel guilty about it.
I’ve done five versions of banh mi sandwiches since I started this blog. I guess I really love cilantro or something.
I’m back on the sandwiches. This one was particularly good.
I’ve eaten so many fried fish sandwiches in the past month, I may have to switch to salads for the rest of the summer.
Father’s Day is this Sunday, two weeks since my Dad’s passing, and the first holiday I will celebrate without him. So, I’m taking some time here to celebrate.
My father’s nickname on Facebook is “fishkiller.” It’s a name, as well as a way of life.
This here is lunch—a piping hot fish cutter sandwich, the official sandwich of Barbados.
While E is away, the girl who likes alfalfa sprouts, kale and raw avocado will play.
This is a horrible thing to admit. But I have to be honest. I had one of those “everyone is engaged but me” moments yesterday.
E was not going to let his new shiny birthday toys stay shiny for long.
Boy, am I thankful E and I take the subway together.