This may look like some ordinary sandwich. And I suppose it mostly is. I had some left over bacon (i know...who has leftover bacon??!) and decided the perfect lunch today would be a BLTT. That would be bacon, lettuce, tomato, and turkey. Oh and red onion. Because I love red onion on sandwiches.
Anyway as I stood there gathering my ingredients and waiting for the toaster to pop, I pulled a butter knife out of the drawer for the mayo and all of a sudden I had an instant rush of memory.
My dad loved sandwiches. He took his sandwiches seriously. It was never just PB&J or turkey and cheese. The bread was always toasted. Always Miracle Whip, not mayo. One side of the bread was always mixed: Miracle Whip + yellow mustard. It was always over the top: turkey, cheese, tomato, onion, bacon, cheese....and what ever else sounded good. He even had a special spatula thingy for the spread: a butter knife would never do.
I always told dad he made the best sandwiches. We would joke that he should quit his job and open a sandwich shop in town.
So today as I stood there and spread my own Miracle Whip on my toasted bread and added all my toppings, I couldn't think of anything else but dad. I imagined him making it for me. And I remembered how many times we stood over the little island in the kitchen and made sandwiches together. Funny how such a mundane task can do that to you.
I sat down with my BLTT and enjoyed every bite. Today it wasn't just an ordinary sandwich.