"Too few people understand a good sandwich"
Bring a peanut butter and jelly to work (or in my case, school) for lunch, and you don't look forward to lunch. Nothing against them at all, but PB&J's are for when you've grown so tired of the daily routine that you've lost any spark or lust you've ever had for lunch, and for that matter, life. Instead you settle for complacency with your long term relationship with 12:00. That PB&J may be reliable, and may give you contentment, but it will never give you the sensuous pick me up you need in the middle of the day.
This sandwich is a bit different.
When you have the knowledge that you have a sandwich like this waiting for you on your desk, you fidget in your office chair all day, thinking of when you can rendezvous with your lunch in secret. No, you wouldn't want to eat this in public, lest strands of onion and smatterings of mayo slip from your greased lips onto your cheek.
There's something immensely gratifying being able to feel the heft and firmness of a good sandwich underneath its parchment wrapper- do the same with any other sandwich and all you get is a soggy limpness that leads to frustration every time. After tearing away its paper garment, separating the two halves unleashes the strong, unmistakable odor of browned chicken and salty bacon. There's no delicate way of eating it- you open your jaw as wide as you can to accommodate the larger than average size to take an all encompassing bite. Firm, succulent, and white breasts give way to the innocence of a juicy tomato, providing a much needed respite from the richness of muenster cheese.
You may be satiated after the first half, but since when has partaking in such carnal pleasure ever been such a conservative affair? This is about taking full advantage of your brief lunchtime encounter, and there's no such thing as going half way in a scenario such as this. As soon as the sandwich is finished, and as you wistfully clear the messy evidence from your desk and clothing, rest at ease... there's always tomorrow to have another Sexually Suggestive Sandwich.
The S.S.S. (Sexually Suggestive Sandwich)
for 2 sandwiches
4 slices of thick bacon
2 chicken breast
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
pinch of sugar
drizzle of soy sauce
drizzle of balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup of mayonaise
1 tablespoon of dijon mustard
2 tablespoons of finely chopped parsley, basil, or chives
1 small clove of garlic, finely minced
1 tablespoon of lemon juice
1 teaspoon of hot sauce
4 slices of good sandwich bread
2 slices of muenster cheese
1-2 plum or roma tomatoes, thickly sliced
red leaf lettuce
Cook the bacon in a skillet until crisp. Remove from the pan, and drain the excess fat from the pan into a separate bowl.
Pour 1-2 tablespoons of the fat back into the pan, and leave it in the pan on high heat. Season the chicken breasts liberally with salt and pepper, and sear on both sides until completely done. Take chicken out of the pan and let rest.
Add more of the bacon fat to the pan on medium heat and add in the onions. Season with salt, pepper, red pepper flakes, and a pinch of sugar (some thyme would be nice as well if you have it). Once they begin to soften, add the soy sauce and vinegar, and continue to cook slowly until they darken in color and develop rich flavor, as long as your patience allows. I try to shoot for at least 20 minutes.
Meanwhile make the schmear: combine the mayonaise, mustard, herbs, garlic, lemon juice, and hot sauce in a bowl. Season with salt and pepper.
Preheat your broiler to high.
Arrange your bread slices on a sheet pan, and spread a thin layer of the now congealed bacon fat on each piece, and season with salt and pepper. Now, chances are you might be running low on what's left of the bacon fat, in which like any decent person out there you should always have a jar of it handy in your fridge at all times. If that's not you, then make do with butter. Now here's the important part: You're only going to broil ONE side of the bread. That way you'll still have the delectable crunch of toasted carbs, but haven't dried it out to the point of a crouton sandwich.
To assemble, schmear a generous amount of mayo on the untoasted side of the bread, and assemble in the following order: slices of the cooked chicken, a heap of onions, 2 pieces of bacon (I like to cut each strip in half so they fit better), a slice of muenster cheese, tomatoes (DON'T FORGET TO SEASON THE TOMATOES), folds of lettuce, and finally another mayo'd piece of toast.