All the flavors and spices have a chance to come together and marry in a beautiful harmony through a process that just can’t be rushed.
Take for example my peanut butter sandwiches. Not something that immediately sounds better after having sat for a while. But… I’ve learned something vastly different.
I had to go to a friend’s graduation party (I hate other people’s outdoor parties, they’re usually the death of me. I ALWAYS pack my own food for these). So for my packable, on-the-go, just-in-case dinner, I made a BLT but minus the bacon and mayonnaise and plus peanut butter and horseradish mustard.
(Yea, so not really a BLT anymore I guess, but there was lettuce and tomato.)
To keep it fresh, I packed it in my lunchbox with an icepack. When I got to my friend’s house, I just stuck the whole thing in the fridge. Long story short, there wasn’t much I could/wanted to eat. I had some fruit and that held me over for a while. Since it started to downpour, I ended up going home before my wonderful sandwich could be consumed.
So I just ate it for dinner anyways.
Nope. Not ready for words yet.
Okay, this sandwich was FREEZING cold. The plastic wrap had compacted everything. The peanut butter united with the mustard, the lettuce was crisp, the tomatoes were cold and the juices ran with the peanut butter. Mmm…
If I had eaten it fresh, sure it would have been delicious. But letting it sit for a few hours (possibly overnight, I don’t remember) brought its deliciousness to near indescribable.
Another sandwich that has stood the test of time through the night in the fridge is the simple honey with peanut butter sandwich (I’ve written about this before: ….).
I’m not sure what happens exactly to the honey and peanut butter, so I’ve got no answer scientifically. Judging by taste and all around good, yumminess, the honey sort of infuses itself with the peanut butter while thickening it. Then together they begin to solidify (not completely or else it would probably be inedible, but to a nice tinker, sturdy texture).
The bread does stale a little bit from the cold, however, it’s not a bad thing, it kind of works with the rest of the sandwich. Almost creates a sort of crispiness on the outside.
I usually chill all my peanut butter sandwiches overnight just so I don’t have to rush to make them the next day, if they’re an on-the-go lunch. For all (including the two mentioned above) I tend to use my homemade peanut butter, which has no added oils, salt, or sugars. However, I have been branching out recently. I’m still not sure how regular peanut butter would work in those specific situations, but most taste beautiful (yes beautiful) when refrigerated overnight in a sandwich.
Two days ago I went to the grocery store to get a few things, bread being one of them. I found the normal choice, Sara Lee Light Whole Wheat (I tend to buy low-cal breads, this one only having 45 calories per slice, that way I can stuff it as much as I want to with peanut butter). However, I began to think/daydream about oatmeal bread. I love oatmeal bread. So the search resumed and shortly I found a 100% Whole Wheat Oatmeal bread (I don’t remember the brand off the top of my head, and I’m too lazy to walk downstairs to look in my cupboard at the moment).
Thus, a sandwich was made.
(A refrigerated sandwich at that.)
The refrigerated oatmeal bread was dense and wonderful. My lunch box smelled like peanut butter.
Left me craving another sandwich.
Which I may end up making later today…
Who knows what really makes these sandwiches so alluring. It's not like I'm against warm sandwiches. Toast is a staple for me. Melty peanut butter is practically it's own food group in my book. Maybe it's the anticipation. The waiting. The knowing it's made and awaiting a first bite. Maybe absence really does make the heart grow fonder. Though, in this case, it may be taste that's grown.