So I made this sandwich. It was a good sandwich. Think homemade buttermilk seed bread, St. Andre triple-cream brie, fresh peach, toasted and broiled until hot and melty, and then drizzled with clover honey. Utterly marvelous. A bit knife-and-fork (or crouch-awkwardly-over-the-kitchen-sink), but marvelous nonetheless.
"But wait!" you say. "What is the green stuff?" Ah yes, the green stuff. THAT, dear reader, is fresh basil. Basil that I thought might be a cool (though not critically important) addition to the sandwich but lacked in my refrigerator. So, never knowing what one might find in the Tunester's herb garden, I made inquiries. No luck, but undaunted, I proceeded in my plans for a basil-less sandwich. So Someone gets the bright idea to pick up basil at the grocery store. I text Someone, assuring them that this is highly unnecessary. (Notice the amount of basil on the sandwich. I think I used three leaves.) No response. Suddenly, Someone shows up (rather smugly, I might add) in my driveway with, you guessed it, a WHOLE PACKAGE OF BASIL. Might I repeat, I used three leaves. So I now have an abundance of basil in my refrigerator. Pesto, anyone? Moral of story: DO NOT ARBITRARILY AND CONVENIENTLY IGNORE TEXTS!
P.S. The basil kicked the sandwich over the top.
- Care
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