I’m a realist. I like to keep things open, honest and true. I’m also a sandwich snob – sandwiches are so barebones and simple, that when you fuck it up, you can taste it right away. Many will say that all you have to do is slap some stuff in between some bread and it’s a sandwich – WRONG. Ingredients are integral to a sandwich. The haphazard use of random meats, spreads and vegetables do not equate “sandwich”, nor does the aimless flop of cheese dangling off the sides that was spared the spear of a frilly toothpick. That being said, I have one of the definitive go to spots for sandwiches that is capable to satisfy the biggest sandwich slut, snob such as myself.
Tag:
old montreal
If you’ve been following me on Twitter lately, you would have noticed the influx of my tweets bitching about how I wanted pizza; and even by that I wouldn’t say it was bitching, more than it was a deep yearning that bordered on obsessive and annoying. Like a 5 month old wants a boob when he or she is hungry; the shrill cry of the animalistic response taking over its little body, screaming and shaking and turning red until the soothing comfort of a mother’s milker touches his or her’s lips… now picture that, but instead of that, picture me slamming the keys on my laptop making sure people know how badly I want pizza… thick crust, thin crust, stuffed crust, pepperoni, sausage, bacon, arugula, anchovies, fucking pineapples, I wanted it all, I.needed.it.all.