Between the Bread

Before there were Subways, there were miners, who pioneered some of America's best handheld meals. Underground laborers in Michigan's Upper Peninsula dined on pasties when they couldn't come up for lunch, and in West Virginia, Italian immigrants ate a similar sandwich cousin called a pepperoni roll.

In a New York Times story this week, John T. Edge pays homage to the pepperoni roll, which originated in West Virginia coal-mining towns in the early 1900s. When immigrants from Calabria arrived to work the mines, they brought fresh-baked bread and salumi for lunch. Soon, local stores started selling their version of the rollups, stuffing sticks of pepperoni into warm rolls. Now, pepperoni rolls are a local culinary legend. Writes Edge:

At BFS convenience stores, where they’re sold alongside Hot Pockets and other nationally distributed grab-and-go foods, shift workers warm pepperoni rolls in microwave ovens and dip them in packets of marinara sauce. At the Ritzy Lunch, a venerable diner in Clarksburg, grill cooks dress split rolls with chili and cheese. Country club barkeepers sell pepperoni rolls as ballast to beer-drinking golfers.

Pepperoni isn't my top choice when it comes to pizza, but that doughy crust looks like it would be right up my alley. Are you familiar with the pepperoni roll?

Check out some more disgusting but delicious photos.

On our post-backpacking pit stop at the Dry Creek General Store, which advertises "the best sandwiches you ever saw," I ordered the relatively manageable turkey with muhammara sauce. Andrew, however, got the more lumberjack-style Dry Creek Stacker.

One thing I love about backpacking is that at the end of all the hard work, hiking, and powdered food, I reward myself with something indulgent. Luckily, after our Labor Day camping trip to Lake Sonoma, we found Dry Creek General Store.

Though a sign above the counter advertisers "the best sandwiches you ever saw," these weren't saw-necessitating hoagies. But Dry Creek's sandwiches were next-level delicious. Though I try to branch out from turkey as often as possible, this one, called the Appepo I think, sounded too good to pass up. The ciabatta-type roll was slathered with muhammara sauce and stuffed with cucumber, feta, tomatoes, and smoked turkey. Andrew's sandwich was equally delicious and even more insane, so check back tomorrow to check it out. Meanwhile, see more photos of my yummy 'wich.

I think every state should have an official state sandwich, and apparently Massachusetts agrees. State lawmakers are considering making the Fluffernutter sandwich one of the state's official foods, along with Necco Wafers and the Charleston Chew candy bar.

Since Marshmallow Fluff was invented in Somerville, MA, the classic peanut butter/Fluff combo could earn a place alongside other state foods, including baked navy beans and Boston cream pie. I didn't grow up eating Fluff; in fact, I don't think I've ever had it. But I know plenty of people who be happy to have more excuses to eat Fluffernutter sandwiches.

For all you Massachusetts natives, does Fluffernutter seem like the right choice? Everyone else: what do you think your state sandwich should be? For California, I'd nominate the French dip (invented in LA) or perhaps a healthy veggie sandwich with avocado and sprouts.

Photo Source: Flickr User Kimberlykv

Turkey was not the ideal partner for the Baconnaise. The unconventional and rather artificial condiment needed some pork, but a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich with Baconnaise seemed like a bit much. My solution: the BHLT.

I combined two classic sammies: ham and swiss and the BLT. The Baconnaise played perfectly off the milder ham, crispy romaine, and ripe, red tomatoes. I also added sprouts and cucumber, just because they are my standard sandwich toppings — and because it made me feel a bit better about eating Baconnaise.

I ran out of mustard at work the other day, but I needed a condiment for my daily sandwich. Much to the delight of my co-workers, I rediscovered a jar of Baconnaise in the fridge once reviewed on YumSugar.

Since it was nearing its expiration date, I felt obligated to eat some, even though I dislike mayonnaise, and bacon isn't my indulgence of choice. I spread a bit — a little goes a very long way — on my turkey sammie. Though it tasted artificial, sort of like bacon bits, it wasn't half bad. And it gave me an idea for a sandwich that would perfectly showcase the Baconnaise. Tune in tomorrow to see it.