Sandwiches

Do you regularly cook foods for people in your family that you yourself don't eat? I do. Turkey burgers.

I just don't get it. Jeff was raised on good old fashioned beef patties. Yet, given the choice today, he invariably chooses turkey over beef. I, in contrast, am a 100% grass-fed beef kind of gal. I prefer beef's tender texture and rich flavor. With the right beef, a burger is delicious even without condiments. (Not that I'm suggesting you do that.)

So when we have burgers, I usually make Jeff a turkey burger and me a hamburger. The last turkey burger I made for him, I topped with sauteed apples, Gruyere cheese, and sage mayo.

After the first bite, he said, "Oh, God, this is good."

I nodded, smiled, and took a big bite out of my hamburger. He took another bite. "Sue, seriously, you've gotta taste this turkey burger. It's awesome."

"But, I don't like turk--"

"Just one bite. Come on."

How did chicken sandwiches become so popular in the U.S.? Supply and demand. The emergence of large scale chicken processing companies such as Perdue and Tyson in the 1920’s and 1930’s respectively, helped propel chicken’s popularity in America. With such easy availability, chicken prices decreased, consumption increased, and chicken became a steady part of the American diet.

With many families cooking whole chickens, leftovers became standard lunch fare. Sliced leftover chicken meat became a favorite filling for sandwiches (and was the original filling for the classic club sandwich).

Fast food chicken sandwiches as we know them originated in 1967, when Truett Cathy, founder of the Atlanta based restaurant chain Chick-fil-A, introduced the chicken sandwich -- a perfectly crispy-on-the-outside, juicy-on-the-inside breaded boneless breast of chicken served on a toasted buttered bun with dill pickle chips. Whether it's fact or fiction, Cathy claimed that pickles were the only condiment he had on hand, and to his delight, were a big hit with consumers. Other fast food chains quickly followed suit. Then in the late 1980's and early '90's the grilled chicken sandwich emerged as a healthier alternative to the fried original.

I don't know if Mae West ever ate a Cobb Salad, but I bet she would have loved it. After all, she was the one who said "too much of a good thing is wonderful". A Cobb Salad begins with a bed of Romaine lettuce, think of it as your basic crunchy blank canvas. Resting on the greens are strips of toppings – luscious chunks of avocado, juicy fresh tomato, crumbles of rich blue cheese, hard boiled eggs and chunks of chicken breast. Frankly I've always found the chicken to be superfluous, but maybe that's just me.

The preeminent sandwich of my lifetime, could be found just three blocks from my parents' house. Several years ago the sub-shop inexplicably shutdown. I was devastated.

I roamed the San Fernando Valley in search of something that could take it's place. I'd find the right pickles (chopped dill), but the seasoning would be off. I'd find the right seasoning, but the bread would be off (thick sesame roll.)

I found good sandwiches, but never my sandwich. In high school I introduced a friend, to the sandwich. He shared the same yearning for Turkey Breast, Pickles, Onions, Provolone, Oil, Salt & Pepper (hold the Tomatoes.) Using "Web 2.0 skills" he asked if anyone knew where to find a spot-on replica of this sandwich.

Within an hour, he got a response. A user claimed that the sandwich existed somewhere in the depths of the West Valley.

Skepticism arose from deep inside my belly.