And now, after many words about sausages, back to sandwiches. Seems I’ve been on a tubular-foods-and otherwise-jag for eons. Got stuck on hotdogs, mustard, corndogs, relish, sausages, street meat, hamburgers, and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Where have all the sandwiches gone?

Well…. Here’s one. I made it yesterday. Labored over it lovingly so I could bring home the bacon to my boy and beast. Lots of bystanders but no sandbiters, as in, no one ate this sandwich. Salmon may be brain food, but this sammy was all beauty. It gleamed and glittered, then met the fate of a faded Hollywood queen. Cavalierly cast aside.
This did look so much better on a gigantic monitor, the kind you find at a photo studio, in pairs or triplets or quints. But it’s not too terribly shabby here on my minimalist knee-top screen. (I can cross my legs and this mac still settles comfortable atop.)
The lighting is lovely. Heard it was a bit of a geometric, pool table, bounce around, richochet, beam bending challenge. Dan Whipps whipped it all into luminescent shape, as always.














