This phrase alone immediate evokes a variety pack of thoughts and emotions.
Most men will think that this is one of the greatest ideas ever. “Hey, I don’t have to get a plate for my sandwich. I’ll just eat over the sink. This way I’ll save time, (I start eating sooner), energy, (walking the four feet to the cabinets and reaching and carrying the plate to the counter, and resources, (the plate saved does not need to be put in the dishwasher and washed therefore saving room for something else – you’re welcome Mr. Gore).
Most women usually simply stare in various levels of bewilderment. “My guy seems smart. Why can’t he just get a plate?”
OK, lemme ‘splain, Lucy.
First, this is usually a quick bite. Lunch - a snack - just a taste - a little sump’n-sump’n. This is not a full meal. We (The brotherhood of over-the-sink-eaters or BOOSE) submit to you that we will not behave this way when
*we have guests
*a nice meal is prepared
*when I have a nice shirt on
I for one can behave much better at a restaurant where the utensils are metal. I can eat one bite at a time, put my fork down while I chew and use the napkin to blot my mouth.
But this ain’t the time.
This (kitchen)sink scenario replays with some regularity in my household. You see, I’m busy, I absolutely need the 17.6 seconds it takes to get a plate and put my ham sandwich on it. And there’s another thing. If I eat over the sink, the mustard and relish drippings will fall right into the sink. Not on the floor. Not on the tablecloth. Not on the cat. Then these drippings will be swished away when I rinse my hands and face when I’m done. Hey, that’s yet another plus since I’m already at the sink. Then I have another opportunity to be even more ecological responsible. I wipe my hands on my jeans and my mouth with my sleeve.
Showing posts with label Sandwiches. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sandwiches. Show all posts
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Monday, March 8, 2010
Beef on Weck
Since we're talking about where I grew up, I can't go on without mentioning a local sandwich that should be, in my opnion, as popular as the chicken wing (Buffalo wing for you out-of-towners). It's the Beef on Weck. A savory hot sandwich where simplicity reigns. Let's break it down shall we?
First, 'beef'. 'Nuff said?
Slow-roasted, thick sliced beef with plenty of au jus and grated horseradish and an onion. Some can do without the horseradish, but it ain't the same. That's it for the guts of the sandwich.
Second, 'on Weck'. That's the kicker
A hard crusted kaiser roll with pretzel salt and caraway seeds on top. It's usually the size of your everyday hamburger bun, but it has to be able to tall and sturdy enough for the top to be dipped in the au jus and remain holdable.
Here's a little history. HT: What's cooking America and The Courier Express
1901 - The following family history of the origin of the Beef on Weck sandwich was shared with me by John Guenther, great grandson of Joe Gohn, originator of the Beef on Weck Sandwich. Some of the information also comes from the Buffalo Courier Express newspaper, April 6, 1980:
Just before the start of the 1901 Pan American Exposition in Buffalo, NY, Joe Gohn (1862-1949) purchased a small saloon which he called the Delaware house, located at Delaware and Delavan Streets. The Delaware House was located on the northwest corner across the street from one of the exposition’s main entrances. He enlarged the house to offer hotel-style rooms for the exposition travelers. It was never called a hotel, but in order to have a whiskey license, he had to have ten bedrooms and provide sitting rooms for his customers.
According to family history, street trolleys loaded with people headed for the exposition were let off near the veranda of the John Gohn’s Delaware House. Since Joe had turned his house into a hotel and tavern to house and feed the hungry people, he decided that a roast beef sandwich and a cold beer would taste good to these travelers. Joe had a German baker working for him who was already making the rolls for the Delaware House. This baker, name unknown, suggested adding the caraway seeds and salt to the top of the rolls as they did in Germany. In Germany, this type of roll was called a kummelweck with nickname of weck. These sandwiches soon became very popular, and of course, the kummelweck helped to create extra thirsty patrons for selling a lot of beer.
The original Delaware House was purchased by the Standard Oil Company in 1931. It was later razed and a has a gas station on the site. Joe Gohn then purchased the building next door and converted it into a tavern, called Gohn’s Tavern. He continued serving his now famous Beef on Weck sandwiches. In later years, he sold the tavern and it became Meyer’s Tavern, which for many years continued selling the Beef on Weck sandwich with great popularity.
It is commonly believed by some historians that William Wahr, a German baker, brought the kummelweck to Buffalo from the Black Forest. There is no historical evidence to back this claim up, but could this be the name of the baker who worked for Joe Gohn at the Delaware House?
This delicacy is for true sandwich pros. It's wet, drippy & slippery. The true pro picks it up and eats it in total without putting it down. This prevents the sandwich from getting too soaked and the eater from getting too embarrased for wearing his lunch. Not much is said when 2 guys sit at the bar with these and their favorite cold beverage. But after the plate is cleaned and the spent napkins are gathered, the satisfaction generated could be compared winning a big game. Now, plan your next trip to Western New York and include a local tavern with these on the menu.
First, 'beef'. 'Nuff said?
Slow-roasted, thick sliced beef with plenty of au jus and grated horseradish and an onion. Some can do without the horseradish, but it ain't the same. That's it for the guts of the sandwich.
Second, 'on Weck'. That's the kicker
A hard crusted kaiser roll with pretzel salt and caraway seeds on top. It's usually the size of your everyday hamburger bun, but it has to be able to tall and sturdy enough for the top to be dipped in the au jus and remain holdable.
Here's a little history. HT: What's cooking America and The Courier Express
1901 - The following family history of the origin of the Beef on Weck sandwich was shared with me by John Guenther, great grandson of Joe Gohn, originator of the Beef on Weck Sandwich. Some of the information also comes from the Buffalo Courier Express newspaper, April 6, 1980:
Just before the start of the 1901 Pan American Exposition in Buffalo, NY, Joe Gohn (1862-1949) purchased a small saloon which he called the Delaware house, located at Delaware and Delavan Streets. The Delaware House was located on the northwest corner across the street from one of the exposition’s main entrances. He enlarged the house to offer hotel-style rooms for the exposition travelers. It was never called a hotel, but in order to have a whiskey license, he had to have ten bedrooms and provide sitting rooms for his customers.
According to family history, street trolleys loaded with people headed for the exposition were let off near the veranda of the John Gohn’s Delaware House. Since Joe had turned his house into a hotel and tavern to house and feed the hungry people, he decided that a roast beef sandwich and a cold beer would taste good to these travelers. Joe had a German baker working for him who was already making the rolls for the Delaware House. This baker, name unknown, suggested adding the caraway seeds and salt to the top of the rolls as they did in Germany. In Germany, this type of roll was called a kummelweck with nickname of weck. These sandwiches soon became very popular, and of course, the kummelweck helped to create extra thirsty patrons for selling a lot of beer.
The original Delaware House was purchased by the Standard Oil Company in 1931. It was later razed and a has a gas station on the site. Joe Gohn then purchased the building next door and converted it into a tavern, called Gohn’s Tavern. He continued serving his now famous Beef on Weck sandwiches. In later years, he sold the tavern and it became Meyer’s Tavern, which for many years continued selling the Beef on Weck sandwich with great popularity.
It is commonly believed by some historians that William Wahr, a German baker, brought the kummelweck to Buffalo from the Black Forest. There is no historical evidence to back this claim up, but could this be the name of the baker who worked for Joe Gohn at the Delaware House?
This delicacy is for true sandwich pros. It's wet, drippy & slippery. The true pro picks it up and eats it in total without putting it down. This prevents the sandwich from getting too soaked and the eater from getting too embarrased for wearing his lunch. Not much is said when 2 guys sit at the bar with these and their favorite cold beverage. But after the plate is cleaned and the spent napkins are gathered, the satisfaction generated could be compared winning a big game. Now, plan your next trip to Western New York and include a local tavern with these on the menu.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Spaghetti Sandwich?
During the sixties, Buffalo, NY was somewhat segregated. Not by race, but by country of origin. With only a generation or two removed from entering our country, immigrants settled in neighborhoods that spoke the same languages and had the same cultures. As the languages melded into English and cultures expanded outside each respective settling point the families stayed close. I remember my Grandfather living in the upstairs section of the duplex I was born in.
OK, history lesson over. I needed this preface to help you understand that I grew up in a neighborhood bordering from what I saw three different communities. German, Polish and Italian. Because of this, I became privy to the most amazing, authentic Euro-American food before my taste buds could walk! My Mom tells the story that after my folks were married, an Italian neighbor stopped over to show her how to make sauce. Any self-respecting wife needs to know how to make sauce, right? The thing I like about this that our neighbor did not just give her a recipe and say ‘Via con dios’. She showed her. Cooking (too me) is not following a recipe to the dram. It’s working. Measuring, combining, sifting, stirring, chopping, peeling, heating, cooling, watching, smelling, tasting, creating and loving.
That said, my university attending son Andrew made some killer spaghetti sauce the other day and just like Mrs. Collins, my childhood neighbor, the only way to make sauce is to make a boat-load. So after the pasta was long gone, I still had a hankerin’ for some for lunch. So the first thought was (and usually is) sandwich. So I soon collected the pieces of the puzzle.
2 slices of sturdy bread (I had some oatmeal/nut bread that worked well).I should have toasted it for stability, but I was hungry and the 2min 15sec was an eternity.
Deli-sliced Roast Beef (your usual sandwich amount – I use too much for most people)
2 slices of Provolone cheese.
A ladleful of Andrew’s Killer Sauce.
Make the sandwich and cover the sandwich (and the surrounding space on the plate) and eat with a knife and fork.
It’s a beautiful thing.
OK, history lesson over. I needed this preface to help you understand that I grew up in a neighborhood bordering from what I saw three different communities. German, Polish and Italian. Because of this, I became privy to the most amazing, authentic Euro-American food before my taste buds could walk! My Mom tells the story that after my folks were married, an Italian neighbor stopped over to show her how to make sauce. Any self-respecting wife needs to know how to make sauce, right? The thing I like about this that our neighbor did not just give her a recipe and say ‘Via con dios’. She showed her. Cooking (too me) is not following a recipe to the dram. It’s working. Measuring, combining, sifting, stirring, chopping, peeling, heating, cooling, watching, smelling, tasting, creating and loving.
That said, my university attending son Andrew made some killer spaghetti sauce the other day and just like Mrs. Collins, my childhood neighbor, the only way to make sauce is to make a boat-load. So after the pasta was long gone, I still had a hankerin’ for some for lunch. So the first thought was (and usually is) sandwich. So I soon collected the pieces of the puzzle.
2 slices of sturdy bread (I had some oatmeal/nut bread that worked well).I should have toasted it for stability, but I was hungry and the 2min 15sec was an eternity.
Deli-sliced Roast Beef (your usual sandwich amount – I use too much for most people)
2 slices of Provolone cheese.
A ladleful of Andrew’s Killer Sauce.
Make the sandwich and cover the sandwich (and the surrounding space on the plate) and eat with a knife and fork.
It’s a beautiful thing.
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