That’s what money is for

The supermarket sandwich is a boon when you’re in a hurry, or too worn out shopping to even think about doing your own thing. If you choose well it gives you a decent, healthy meal for little or no effort, and that’s no small consideration.

The downside is that they’re horrendously expensive, chilled to Arctic levels of cold, and made with soft, bite-free bread. The mayonnaise used is unlike any mayonnaise as we know it. Gourmet-level food it’s not.

So, when I’m driven to grab a supermarket sarnie for my lunch I try to get one that has some kind of filling, or combination of fillings, that I’ve not come across before and which may teach me something new. Within limits of course. A sandwich with any hint of chilli in it is something I avoid much as I avoid the smell of stale socks.

All of which leads up to my discovery today of a sandwich combination to die for.

Roll the recipe around your tongue:  Sliced pear, lightly poached, a soft blue cheese mixed with a little creme fraiche, crispy bacon, and lettuce. I salute the supermarket chef who came up with that delicious concoction, and it’s now in my sandwich recipe book to try, vary, and perfect. I opened the pack when I got home, and set the sandwich on a plate to warm through a little. The aroma was delicate and mouth-watering so I thought it worth taking a snap, just in case. Glad I did.

“You look as if you’re enjoying that,” Graham said. He’d chosen to grab a crusty bread roll which he sliced, larded with cheese and munched with a little sweet pickle.

“It’s good. Shame about the bread, but it’s very, very tasty. I’m looking forward to trying it at home.”

“Great. You can never have too many sandwiches.”

Anyway.

The reason I was worn out and seeking a lazy man’s lunch was that we took an early-ish trip to Taunton to collect the framed prints for which Graham has been waiting anxiously since New Year. It was worth the wait. It’s a watercolour painting by Peter Kitchell, very wide and split over two landscape prints.  Titled ‘Indian Blanket 3′, it’s a picture we had and loved in our Brighton days, long, long ago, and which was lost during the move from Derbyshire to the remote Welsh cottage. It’s good to have it back.

After our nap, Graham begin shifting big pictures around the house to make room for the Kitchell’s over the sofa. The canvas print that was over the sofa is now over my desk. The large print that was over my desk is now over the piano. The large print that was over the piano is now over the bed. Nothing is ever so simple as it may seem.

He was panting a little when he’d done but I got dragged up to the living room to view the new prints in their new home. We both stood there for a while, admiring, and thinking of bygone days.

“They look better now than they ever did in the old student frames,” I said.

“I think so, too. Worth the money?”

“Oh, yes. Most assuredly. That’s what money is for.”

And then we had a nice glass of wine.

 
Our new poster: ‘Indian Blanket 3′ by Peter Kitchell