Between the Bread

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.

It's no secret that I take my sandwiches very seriously — so much so that it elicits comments from co-workers. Partly that's because I usually eat the same sandwich every day, but I don't make it at home. That would be soggy! Instead, I carry all the ingredients to work and make the sandwich there. The key to this process is my sandwich condo. What is a sandwich condo, you say?

To many people, Thanksgiving is the most exciting meal of the year. For me, it's the sandwich I make the Friday after Thanksgiving (or late that Thursday night, depending on how drunk and hungry I get). On their own, turkey, cranberry sauce, and stuffing are good; between bread (preferably a soft wheat) they are transcendent.

So on the rare work days when I don't bring my own turkey sandwich from home, I slip out to my local Specialty's for a turkey sandwich. Their sandwiches are pretty good, not like amazing or anything, but they have this one version that piles on the cranberry sauce, a sort of jellied spread with bits of cranberries mixed it. On the deli's fresh multigrain bread, it's a great holdover until Thanksgiving.