Tag Archives: Internacionale!

Chacarero

HOORAY, SECOND SANDWICH OF THE CS! We’re actually doing this, friends. Riding home from work today (for the Vicomtesse is gainfully employed, yes!), I couldn’t help but think what a fabulous service we are doing unto the world. YOU ARE WELCOME, all two of you! *cough* pardon me sorry excuse me sorry

These beautiful Chilean sandwiches took us both by surprise, contained as they were of skirt steak, avocado, tomato, and green beans (?!). What’s beautiful about this club is that we put many things on many breads, MANY things, that we never would have considered to be husbandsandwich material. So let’s get back to the ingredients. Her Eminence picked them up, and thank goodness we went to New Seasons (sidenote: as it’s probably fairly evident that we are based in Portland, Oregon, I shall further refrain from obfuscation of ingredienteries, unless it is a place we have found distasteful/unseasonably expensive). They have the very very very finest meat of any grocery I’ve ever been to, and the skirt steak that Her Eminence picked up there was not only – like $10 for more than a pound, which for very good beef, is damned economical (if “buying steak” were on the list of things that are economical). I regret, my darlings, not getting a photo of the steak before we seared it – its grain was beautiful and its flesh RED, that harlot (note to self quit anthropomorphizing steak).

The green beans, jalapeño, and avocado were all of terrific quality, but alas, the December tomato is not what you might want. We cut it up and it was in such a sorry state that we made the Official Decree and it was stricken from the sandwich, as it would have palely and sandily detracted from the composition.

As we’ve done in many of our roll-based sandwiches, we hollowed out the bread and took a good fourth of it out. Please do not get us wrong, comrades, we are bread fanatics here at the CSSC, but it must be said! A giant chunk of white roll with no sandwich containment is a sad, sad state of affairs, so more often than not, we forego it.

The steak took no more than about two minutes on each side on high heat with the (lovely, trustworthy) cast-iron, while we charred the green beans in a bit of butter and salt and pepper, a method I picked up in a little place called FRANCE, EVER HEARD OF IT??

sorry

moving on

After we thin-sliced the jalapeño and cut up our perfect, perfect avocado, we took one look at the tomato & threw it out. Hollowing out the french rolls (not completely) made lovely little pockets for us to put the pieces of this interesting sandwich together, and then I put a good amount of the adobo sauce (left-over from the last sandwich – that tells you how recently we did this, AND HOW AMAZING WE ARE ahem sorry again) on it once assembled.

This was a really good sandwich. Speaking as The Vicomtesse of the Bacon Lettuce & Tomato, it didn’t blow me away. I loved the interesting crunch of the green beans and the richness of the (very rare [in France the word for rare translates to “bloody,” isn’t that beautiful]) steak, but I put a bit too much of the adobo on, and honestly, I think the sandwich deserved a bit of mayo over the red sauce! I know this is a pretty ugly American POV that I’m expressing here, but god I love mayonnaise, and a little goes a long way toward tying a sandwich together. Mayo is the salt of the sandwich world (or, um, maybe salt is the salt of the sandwich world) and I feel that it melds the spicy, the umami, the rich and the sour together in a way that brings out the flavors of each. But it WAS good, and Her Eminence liked it I think a good deal more than I did, and I would absolutely make it again with a few tweaks of my own – adobo, yes, but a bit less of it, and a little swipe of the Hellmann’s. For about $20, we had enough for three sandwiches, so again, somehow not cheaper than getting a sandwich out somewhere, but seriously quite good for a terrific steak sandwich, the ingredients of which were purchased at a Fancy market.

SUCCESS FRIENDS

Cemita

Hola, sandwich lovers…we are back! And we have triumphantly entered the C-section (ew) of our most excellent mission.  Man, I thought we were going to be in the Bs forever.  Oh do we have some epic sandwiches coming up, we are SO excited.  But first, we would be remiss if we did not acknowledge a major misstep on the part of this here sandwich blog.  Yes, November 3 was National Sandwich Day and neither of us noticed or commemorated this illustrious holiday (though we probably ate a sandwich considering it was a day that ended in Y).  We promise we will never make such a careless error again.

Anyway, today’s sandwich is the Cemita:

The Cemita is a traditional sandwich from Puebla, Mexico and it takes its name from the kind of roll used.  We did not find traditional cemita rolls, but used torta rolls and topped them with sesame seeds to recreate it.  The sandwich assemblage is quite simple, just a meat, queso blanco, avocado, onion, and salsa roja.  

We picked up most of the ingredients at a local shop/taqueria, Don Pancho, and the proprietor was so kind as to run next door to the restaurant and give us a pound of delicious, tender carnitas.  The only real work we did was to heat up the carnitas and swish them around the pan with some fresh oregano, onion, and some of the salsa roja, and then toast the bread with the sesame seeds on top.

This sandwich was very, very good.  It was hearty without feeling overwhelming. The flavors were bright.  The cheese, though mild, added depth to the sandwich and counterbalanced the heat of the fiery salsa roja.  Speaking of salsa roja, these sandwiches improved exponentially once we decided to dump the stuff on.  Don Pancho makes the salsa roja fresh with only natural ingredients (ed. note: seriously – roasted adobo peppers, vinegar, salt, water, garlic, I think that’s it. fresh daily or close to it.) and it’s like $3 for a generously sized tub (pro-tip).

In all, this was very tasty, a complete meal, and very easy to put together, though we lightly toasted some sesame seeds & cooked up a bunch of fresh oregano in the carnitas, which added some really nice, bright texture to the density of the pork. Totally not necessary, and some cilantro would of course be a gorgeous addition.  Unlike some of our more laborious sandwiches, I can easily see myself making this again and again because it is so convenient for a work-night dinner.  And isn’t convenience really what the sandwich is ultimately all about?

Do you immediately want another of this sandwich?

Yep. Heartily regretting not making enough to bring for lunch the day after.

Broodjie Kroket

Oh my, are you ready for your second meat slurry sandwich in as many weeks?!???!!! OHHHH YEAAAAHHHHHHHHHH.  

The Broodjie Kroket is a Dutch sandwich, traditionally served as street food.  And I will tell you, this is a sandwich that should be eaten (and made) while drunk.  Because you have to overcome all of your instincts NOT to eat this sandwich, but, oh friends, it will be worth it.  

I am just kidding about making this sandwich drunk because it had approximately ONE BILLION steps, the most critical of which involves a deep fryer.  Ok, let’s get into it:

First, purchase your ingredients. Some nice soft rolls, roast beef, spicy mustard, mushrooms and onions, soy sauce, thyme, and stuff to make bechamel.  I followed this recipe. I will tell you now (SPOILERS) that our krokets looked absolutely nothing like the picture in this recipe and this woman must be some kind of wizard.  

Second, blend all of your ingredients in a food processor, save the rolls and mustard.  This includes the bechamel that you have lovingly stirred on the stove.  Note: in retrospect, I think I used too much bechamel sauce.  The recipe is in UK standard measurements and I would just urge you to be judicious in your bechamel use.  This will create a meat slurry.  Pop that bad boy in the fridge for several hours.

You would think that the fridge chilling would solidify your meat slurry, but in our case, it sure did not! Friends, I am going to be crude here for a second: these meat slurry “logs” that you form straight up look like doo-doo.  

Take your meat slurry logs, which are not easy to pick up and will definitely make you gag, dip them in flour (flour covered turd logs), then in egg, which in our case was, uh, unnecessary, then in bread crumbs. 

Then, deep fry for 5 minutes.  I believe it is also possible to fry on a stovetop if you are not like me and have not purchased a countertop deep fryer on Craigslist.  A deep fryer hides a multitude of sins.  Those sins are virtually unrecognizable when put in a nice soft roll and slathered with mustard.  They were actually pretty dang tasty.  

A couple of tweaks: the Vicomtesse had the brilliant idea to carve out some of the bread, a trick we learned from our Bauru days.  It helped.  The Vicomtesse also added some pickles to her sandwich number 2 (haha, get it?!), which she contends brought to sandwich to epic levels of deliciousness.  

So, final question: Do you immediately want another of this sandwich?

Vicomtesse: I did want another, so I made another one, con pickles. The pickles changed it from a pretty good sandwich, to an incredible one.  Though not strictly traditional, I stand behind my decision. 

Her Eminence: While the sandwich exceeded my admittedly very low expectations, I was so traumatized by the process of making them, that I did not immediately want another one.  I feel, however, with the lessons learned from this first go-round, that I would perhaps try to make it again.  Even if only to conquer the turd beasts and show them who is truly the master.  

Bocadillo

Today we cover the stalwart Bocadillo, native to beautiful España (Spain) and is one of the most versatile sandwiches in our repertoire.  The Bocadillo is traditionally made with many different fillings, including Jamón (which is Spanish for “more delicious Ham” (as if such a thing is possible (it is))), omelet, squid, pork, and the list goes on and on.  However, what Bocadillos traditionally do not have are condiments.  Instead, you rub the bread with a cut tomato or drizzle it with olive oil, or both.  The lack of drippy and perishable condiments makes the Bocadillo the ideal travel sandwich.  Just stuff one in your bag and go!

Sandwiches! Is there anything they can’t do?!

Predictions:

We both thought these would be pretty delicious.  We decided to make two kinds, a squid bocadillo and a jamón and manchego bocadillo.  I was into the squid idea as there is literally no seafood on Earth that I will not enthusiastically consume.  I was also into the jamón and manchego idea because DUH.

Preparation:

So, let’s talk squid for a second, y’all.  It is a leeettle beeeet gross to work with but it is very easy to make.

Simply chop it up:

Then sautee the squid in olive oil and season with salt and pepper.  It cooks up very quickly.

The jamon/manchego is pretty self explanatory.  We used a mixture of prosciutto and legit jamon (FROM SPAIN and consequently VERY EXPENSIVE). (Ed. note: : ( )

To prep the bread, cut a tomato in half and rub it all over the bread.  Then drizzle on some olive oil (the higher quality the better).

Impressions:

These were…ahhh…underwhelming.  I think this may be the biggest disparity between our expectations and our actual thoughts about the sandwich.  It was NOT, however, the worst sandwich so far… that honor goes, of course, to the Baked Bean.

Here’s where we think we went wrong.

First, too much bread!  Hollow that sucker out before you get your tomato/olive oil on. (Ed. note: like we did with the Bauru.)  I think I may have also made a poor bread choice when shopping for this sandwich by getting a bigger (hence less crispy) baguette instead of two smaller ones.

Second, squid, though delicious, is not the best sandwich filling.  A bit too slimy.

Third, CONDIMENTS! I know that condiments are not traditional, but man would this sandwich have benefitted from some aioli.  But, as I object very strongly to inserting my cultural expectations into another culture’s traditional sandwich preparation, I think a lot of the need for condiments would be mitigated by less bread.  Or maybe a more ripe tomato?

However, there was one thing we did very, very right:

This wine is the absolute jam.

Do we immediately want to eat another of these sandwiches?

Nah, but perhaps with modification they could be outstanding.

Bauru

BAURUUUUUUUU!

Today, we bring to you an utterly novel thing of beauty – the hollowed out French roll, stuffed of melted mozzarella and roast beef, along with the delightful old flames of tomato and some classic vlasics (kosher dill, DUH).

The Bauru comes to us from Brazil, invented by a Sao Paolan university student, and for all of us who have had the pleasure, thank you, Casemiro Pinto Neto, for your literally world-class contribution to cuisine.

Predictions:

Enough of that horrible abuse of grammatic convention – let us just say that our expectations were rather high. Her Eminence made what we have been calling “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pizza-cheese,” as when you melt a cup of mozzarella in a butter roux it turns into, god, I don’t know, melted edible DIAMONDS??? It was just obscenely melty.

The roast beef, purchased from the local meatmonger Zupan’s, was really, actually, no-hyperbole-necessary, some of the best roast beef I have ever had. It was all pink, which again is a pretty horrible sounding thing to say. I also feel like the deliciousness was also attributable to the very good, solid and ordinary par-baked french rolls utilized. Nothing special but ideally suited to the task.

Impressions:

Her Eminence of the Italian Deli Meat:

*sobs*
no words
should have sent a poet

The Vicomtesse of the Bacon Lettuce and Tomato:

Oh dear god, it was even better than we thought possible. I am not the Biggest mozzarella fan, but I see its place in fresh Italian foods and the delectable meatball sub, of course, but THIS, oh my, oh my, THIS was incredible. The melted mozzarella (so melty) was just, FULL OF SYNTHESIS with the pickley pickley pickle, if that actually means anything outside my brain. Uhhhhhh this was really, really good. Get on ‘n hollow you out a french roll, EHHNNN??

Do you immediately want another of this sandwich?

“Ish too bad we don’t have mre of ese fnch rolls s’we c’make more of’m,” said Her Eminence while chomping through the VERY FIRST BITE of the Bauru, so full of premature regret (Ed. Note: “pregret”) for lack of future sandwich was she.

And now it’s gone and it’s never coming back 😦 what we are saying is this was an extremely good sandwich. YES. YES, YOU COULD SAY WE BOTH IMMEDIATELY WANT ANOTHER OF THIS SANDWICH.

Barros Jarpa and Barros Luco

It’s a Twofer, gang! Get excited!

It is entirely fitting that we cram these two sandwiches together because they are related both historically and taste-orically (huh?).  The Barros Jarpa y Luco hail from Chile and have kind of a neat lil’ backstory.  The two sandwiches were created in the restaurant of the National Congress of Chile.  The Barros Jarpa, a melty ham and cheese, is named after Ernesto Barros Jarpa, a lawyer and politician.  This guy right here:

Well hello, Glasses.

As for the sandwich’s origin story, I will just let this delightful bit of google translate do its work: 

“very slow considering the preparation of Sandwich Barros Luco, and as always was rushed, called an ‘ally ham-cheese’, but hot, and the servants to see him come and meet their plight shouted inward from the kitchen: ‘A Jarpa Barros, master’, thus baptizing popular Chilean sandwich known as Barros Jarpa.”

Okey-dokey then!

The Barros Luco is a melty steak and cheese, with peppers, and it is named after Senor Barros Jarpa’s cousin, Ramon Barros Luco.  This fella’:

Image

 

Well hello, Moustache!

This gentleman became the president of Chile, and his government’s philosophy was “99% of problems solve themselves, and the remaining 1% have no solutions” which perhaps explains why Senor Barros Luco is now best known for creating a sandwich (not that there is anything wrong with that, I think the vicomtesse and I would about kill for the opportunity to coin a famous sandwich).

So how do these bad boys stack up?

Predictions:

The general consensus was that these sandwiches would be kinda boring, which partly explains why we decided to cover them together.  However, we both acknowledged that there is nothing wrong with any of the ingredients involved so we expected they would be rather tasty, just nothing earthshattering. 

Preparation:

Props to the vicomtesse for spearheading this one.  She picked up some nice crusty white bread, some good ham, some hanger steak, some peppers, and (after searching in vain for the correct cheese) some pepper jack.  

Image

 

The steak was sliced thinly and sauteed with balsamic vinegar, peppers and garlic.  The ham was also fried a bit.  Then we assembled the sandwiches and toasted them in the cast-iron.

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Impressions:

Very tasty indeed! Those deceased Chilean politicians knew what they were talking about.  We both preferred the Barros Luco because of the extra kick that the hot peppers added, but gosh, does anyone have a problem with a melty ham and cheese?  I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW THEM. 

Final Question: Do you immediately want to eat another of this (these) sandwich(es)?

Sure, why not?  I believe our prediction was quite accurate.  This sandwich is a little boring but definitely tasty.  With a little experimentation, perhaps these could be outstanding sandwiches — particularly the Barros Luco (balsamic, hot peppers, and steak is a LEGIT flavor profile) — but they do leave a little something to be desired.