On a Sandwich

Americans have, it has been argued, no culinary history. The great cooking traditions of various European countries are, undoubtedly, much, much older, better documented, widely exported, and in some cases, highly formalized. Collectively, they are all born of necessity; poverty foods elevated and refined over hundreds or thousands of years until they reach the status of ‘Cuisine.’

America, with its 400 year colonial history, hasn’t had the time to develop what could be called a culinary history. The framework for an American Cuisine, however, has been firmly set out in a series of regional, poverty dishes. Consider, for example, the lowly hamburger. Originally served on toasted white bread, the meat patty was flavored with coffee and brown sugar. Recently, the burger has been elevated to fine-dining status – a slab of minced wagyu beef garnished with fresh black truffles and foie gras.

Caesar Salad, not yet 100 years old, has been adopted and adapted all over the world and is served, in deconstructed form, at Thomas Keller’s French Laundry.

There is such a depth of American dishes waiting to be seized upon, to be transformed into fine dinning fare. The po’ boy, clam chowder, corn bread, pulled pork, macaroni and cheese, apple pie, collard greens, hotdogs, potato salad, key lime pie, and so many more. No culinary history? Maybe. A cuisine? It’s only a matter of time.

Here’s one more to add to the list of potentials. A sandwich invented and obsessively consumed whilst living in L.A. on a tiny street with its own claims to fame. My particular block of N. Ivar Ave. in Hollywood was once home to author Nathaniel West and also hosts the building ‘Alto Nido,’ home to the fictional Joe Gillis, main character in the classic film “Sunset Boulevard.”

One day it will be remembered as the birthplace of “The Ivar.”



pastrami, thinly sliced*
emmental or jarlsberg cheese, sliced
sliced pickled cucumbers
shredded iceberg lettuce
mayonnaise
seeded mustard
sourdough baguette

On the bottom half of the split baguette, pile the thinly sliced pastrami and top with cheese. Toast this along with the top half of the bread under the grill (broiler) until the cheese melts and the top half of the baguette has browned slightly. Add the pickles to the top of the cheese, cover with lettuce. Smear the top half of the bread with mustard and mayo, salt and pepper to taste and then slap the sucker together. It should be a wonderful combination of sweet, salty, crunchy, chewy, sour, peppery, smoky, yum-yum.

* In this case, I cured and smoked my own pastrami. I’ve had this five-year, sporadic argument with my various butchers about what cut of beef I should be using to make pastrami. It goes something like this: “I want a ‘beef plate.’” “A what?” “A ‘beef plate’. It’s a cut of meat.” “Never heard of it. What is it for?” “I’m going to make pastrami.” “Oh, then you need silverside.” Fatless, characterless, flavorless, chunk of meat arrives the following day and invariably transforms into pastrami with characteristics eerily similar. I now know that ‘beef plate’ is called ‘point end brisket’ here in Australia, and it makes a fine pastrami. I’ll post some other time on how to cure and smoke meats.