Foodie Friday: Quest for Sandwich

Sometimes you don’t realize you have been on a quest until you see the prize, and you understand, at that golden moment, that this is what your entire life has been leading you to. You experience the glory before you and wonder, how have I lived until now? It wasn’t living. It was merely existing. And life will continue to be a bland repetition of meaningless trite until you can experience the nirvana that you’ve known, so briefly, once again.

Of course I am talking about the perfect tuna sandwich.

I shouldn’t love tuna sandwiches as much as I do. I was a picky eater as a child and didn’t like fish, milk, sauces or anything that had a texture. But one day, while watching Sesame Street a girl puppet asked to have a toasted tuna fish sandwich, and it got me thinking... hey, I want a toasted tuna fish sandwich. So I got one. And it started a love affiar that has lasted a lifetime. I tried to find the original Sesame Street clip, but all I could find was this:

This doesn't make me want a tuna sandwich. Kind of peckish for brains now.

Never got into canned salmon though. My mom loves it. But to me it's like feeding a cat some fish, having it throw up into a tin, add some pickle juice and a bit of soap, put it in your cupboard and save it for fancy.

However, between tuna sandwiches and tuna salads, I probably go through 3 or 4 cans of tuna a week. I know there are issues around eating too much tuna. I’d rather not think about them, thanks.

While Brian and I were vacationing in Paris a few years ago, I experienced the ultimate tuna sandwich. We didn’t got to Paris for the food, although it was, of course, amazing. We’re not foodie travelers. We were on one of our epic 15 miles city walks and we stopped for a quick lunch on the street, to eat on the go. This is not very Parisienne, I know. In fact our favourite breakfast spot was Le Croissanterie, which is shameful to admit (with apologies to Cheryl McKinnon and Ryan McKnight).

                                                                                                      photo credit kimncris.com

So anyway, we were walking and walking and we stopped at  a little hole in the wall grab and go place and I got a tuna salad sandwich. It was THE BEST TUNA SANDWICH I HAVE EVER HAD. It was on a small baguette thing. It had HARD BOILED EGG in it!!!! The mayo was utter perfection. I couldn’t stop talking about it. After enjoying fine Parisienne dining I thought,

I have spent the past 3 years trying to recreate this sandwich to no avail.

I’ve tried fancy tuna, cheap tuna;full fat/half fat/low fat mayo; rye bread, bagels, whole wheat bread.

Nothing has come close. 


I keep trying.


I use my favourite ingredients:

I boiled only the finest eggs to hard-boiled boiled perfection. Boiled.

The sandwich passed the "Cat is definitely interested" test.

It was a good-looking' sammich.

But sadly, it was not the sandwich of my dreams. It was not nirvana. It was merely a nice lunch.


Maybe I need to walk 15 miles before eating said sandwich, and it will make it seem more magical than it really is. 


Brian says he wants to go back to Paris again; to see The Arts et Metiers Musuem, the Eiffel Tower, the amazing Art Deco architecture.


I want to go back for that damned sandwich.


Tell me you don't want one now.