Sand·wich: Two or more slices of bread with a filling such as meat or cheese placed between them.

I never used to appreciate the beauty of the sandwich, until when I was 17 and began working in a sandwich shop on Saturdays. It was there I learned that filling bread with flavour combinations is an art: turkey and cranberry; spinach, bacon and smoked cheese; tuna with sweetcorn and red pepper. There are reasons why such classics as the BLT are found everywhere (they taste amazing) but I ask you now, who makes the rules?

In the last few weeks I have put up with some teasing from friends as I have been experimenting with my lunchtime sandwich. Since becoming a student I’ve had either peanut butter or marmite as my daily sandwich filling- they are cheap, can be stored long term in a cupboard, and are pretty good for me. However, after Christmas this year I became restless. I started yearning for something more. Something tastier. I started to think of the artworks once created every Saturday.

The experiments started out by combining what food I had left in the fridge that was in danger of going off. That is how I first tried broccoli and cheddar- the broccoli was going soft so I lightly steamed it and stuck it between two pieces of bread with the thinly sliced cheese. I took some stick for that one, but have since repeated it on purpose. The cheese/greens combination is beautiful. Likewise, I have sometimes roasted too much sweet potato for my dinner. A bit of mayo and seasoning. Yum.

When uniting sliced tomato and vegemite between homemeal bread I thought I’d found something tasty and highly original, only to be told it’s a well known snack the Australians call a ‘Redback’.

Another that was laughed at was raspberry jam and cheese. Think of the jam as cranberry sauce and you’ll get the idea. Peanut butter is a wonderful tool when not limited to being a ‘sweet’ filling. First think satay, and then try a peanut butter and cucumber sandwich, or lettuce. Of course it is equally as good with sliced banana (picture above).

The crème de la crème happened this week though. I had some gourmet ingredients I do not usually splash out on, but through a series of events had them in the fridge needing eating. The avocado, sun dried tomato and black olive sandwich was born. Mediterranean paradise. Need I say more?

In conclusion, I no longer have rules on my sandwich board. Whether it be vegetables, meat, fruit or spreads, if things taste good together stick them between two pieces of bread. After all, that’s what the Earl of Sandwich originally did; he put a meal in a convenient casing. Glorious.

Old Jamaica: Worth its weight in Gold

I was meant to go to the cinema one evening this week, but it fell through. I’d therefore already mentally spent $10 (bargain Tuesday) so thought I could treat myself to something else.

What did my mind jump to? Food, naturally.

My landlord owns a little convenience store across the road from us, and I felt it was about time I paid it a visit. Now, those of you who know me well understand that I’m really bad at making decisions about food. I’m awful to go to lunch with because I will easily spend five minutes deciding over a sandwich filling. These things are important to me. There’s nothing worse than making a snap decision and then wishing you had what someone else ordered.

The plus, therefore, of food shopping on my own is that I can ponder as much as I like. I think I rather amused the girl behind the counter as I wandered up and down the aisles. As with most small food shops, the entire front section was taken up with confectionary, and mainly chocolate, so my decision was inevitable really.

With chocolate decided upon I then had to narrow it down to a particular bar. Mars bars and other really sweet creations don’t often appeal to me anymore, and especially not here when they are strangely expensive. My eye was caught momentarily by the famous American ‘Hersheys’ bar, but then I realised it was extremely thin and also costly.

The real treasure trove was in the Cadburys section. In the UK we manage such variations as ‘fruit and nut.’ Here they have Black Forest, Tiramisu, Crème Brule, Rocky Road…and then I saw it. The flavour I’ve always dreamed would be a chocolate bar: Rum and Raisin. Decision made.

When I got it home I found myself sitting on my bed simply admiring the package. It’s bigger than the average chocolate bar at 250g, and therefore has a heavy old fashioned chunkiness about it. I feel as if it should have been carried home in a brown paper bag by a little girl in a duffle coat and buckle shoes. The paper wrapping gives it a nostalgic feel, the dark gold shine promising something exotic inside.

I broke off six small squares, and how did it taste? Yummy. It’s rather like fruit and nut without the nut, with a hint of alcoholic flavouring, and the chocolate is gloriously dark. A real taste of ‘Old Jamaica.’

I find I enjoy chocolate the most when I savour every bite. Therefore I am going to slowly devour the whole bar over the next week, piece by piece, one indulgent chunk at a time…