Between the Bread

Though the idea of a banana and Vegemite sandwich didn't go over so well with my palate, I decided to try again with the last heirloom tomatoes of the season.

Since fresh salted tomatoes, simply combined with lettuce, cheese, and good bread, make a great sandwich, I figured the salty Vegemite could stand in for the seasoning. With thick aged white cheddar, the combo may not be purely Aussie, but it worked for me, and the condiment is slowly growing on me, if not inciting a long-dormant passion.

In creative condiments, Trader Joe's excels, and its Corn and Chile Tomato-less Salsa is a staple in my fridge. Sweet and zippy with just a touch of heat, this condiment complements not just Mexican cuisine but pretty much anything that goes with corn.

I put this stuff on everything. It's wet enough that it makes a fabulous salad dressing, especially with fresh tomatoes and cucumber. But it's also a delicious sandwich topping, adding texture and kick to conventional cold cuts, veggie burgers, and one of my favorite inventions, the Sloppy Jose, a Mexican Sloppy Joe made with carnitas and mole sauce.

Do you put salsa on sammies?

This is the mustard that made me love mustard — and I really, really love mustard. I'm sure I had mustard before Honeycup Mustard, but it wasn't memorable. This one, however, flavors my earliest condiment and sandwich memories.

I hadn't had it in years, so when I found a jar at my local Lucky supermarket, I brought it home to see if it was as good as I remembered, now that I've tried dozens of other mustards. I immediately remembered its odd gelatinous quality, almost like an apple butter, and the familiar flavor immediately brought me back to childhood. Though it's hard for me to pick a favorite mustard — after all, variety is the condiment of life — Honeycup definitely holds its own.

I'm sure my family had Honeycup as a kid because it was one of the first "gourmet" mustards available in my hometown. My mom used it to re-create the grilled ham-and-cheese sandwich with hot-sweet mustard served at a local restaurant called Dabo's; incidentally, those sandwiches are one of my most cherished early sandwich memories. I think it's very fitting that Honeycup Mustard was established in 1978, the same year I was.

There you have it: my seminal mustard. I even managed to make it through this whole post without saying "cuts the mustard." Are you a mustard person?

Over a lively euchre game the other night, we got into an even livelier conversation about Marmite and Vegemite. I find that conversations about these love-them-or-hate-them condiments are always impassioned, so I was surprised that some of my foodie friends weren't familiar with them.

Though Marmite and Vegemite are unconventional in the US, in their home countries, they are as common as peanut butter or mayonnaise. Vegemite is pretty much the national food of Australia, and Marmite is the UK's version. Most commonly spread on toast and used on sandwiches, both spreads are made with yeast extract, a by-product of beer brewing. It's super-salty, high in vitamin B, and a good example of "the fifth taste" known as umami.

I was first introduced to Vegemite while working as a camp counselor with lots of Aussie co-workers, all of whom brought enough Vegemite to get them through the summer.  This is apparently quite common, the joke being that Australians always pack Vegemite when they travel. To kids who grow up in Marmite and Vegemite territories, it's as essential to childhood eating as PB&Js are here — but inspires an even more fanatical devotion.

I don't remember liking Marmite very much but I'm giving the taste another try. Andrew got a tube of Vegemite from an Australian co-worker, so I'm going to take the plunge with a Vegemite sandwich. Apparently, it's often used on cheese sandwiches, though my euchre friend loves Marmite and banana sandwiches. If you have any suggestions, leave them in the comments.

Source: Flickr User S2Art

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.