Between Two Slices: A Love Letter to the Sandwich

Let’s be honest — if there’s one food that has quietly followed us through every season of life without demanding much in return, it’s the sandwich.

It’s there when you’re late, tired, hungover, or heartbroken. It’s the fallback plan that never complains. Two slices of bread and… something. Whatever you’ve got. Somehow, it always works.

But behind its modest look, the sandwich holds a kind of quiet wisdom. It’s adaptable, comforting, and endlessly creative — a meal that asks you who you are today and builds itself around the answer.

And maybe that’s why I love it. Because it doesn’t pretend. It’s never trying too hard. It just shows up — soft or toasted, warm or cold, messy or minimalist — and says: “Here, I’ve got you.”

So no, this is not just about bread and fillings.

This is about memory. Travel. Nostalgia. Identity.

The Accidental Genius of the Earl: How the sandwich was born

Let’s begin where all food legends begin: with a hungry man and a questionable work ethic.

The story goes that John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich, was deep in a gambling session in 18th-century England and didn’t want to leave the table. So, he asked for meat tucked between two pieces of bread — something he could eat without a fork, knife, or god forbid, a pause in the game. Thus, the sandwich was born. Or, at least, named.

Did people already eat bread with fillings before then? Of course. Every civilization has had its version of the “stuffed bread” concept — from Middle Eastern flatbreads with roasted meats to Chinese buns (baozi). But the Earl gave it a name, and the name stuck.

The Sandwich as a Way of Living

Here’s the magic of the sandwich: it’s never just about food. It’s a format for life.

Kids unwrap them in schoolyards with crinkly paper and soggy tomato slices. Office workers eat them hunched over keyboards. Hikers pull them out of backpacks like treasure. Mourners eat them after funerals. Lovers share them in parks. Parents improvise them at 6:45 a.m. when there’s no time and even less motivation.

The sandwich is democratic. It has no class.Or maybe, it has all the classes.

It can be a Michelin-star creation with truffle mayo and 36-hour braised duck — or a midnight fridge raid turned into a miracle with just mustard, cheese, and hope.

From Backpack Snack to Gourmet Icon

However at some point, the world decided the sandwich deserved a spotlight.

You can blame the foodies, the chefs, the Instagram reels, or maybe just the human need to elevate even the most humble of things. Suddenly, sandwiches weren’t just something you wrapped in foil for a hike — they became a canvas for culinary ambition.

Now we have gourmet sandwiches. The kind that come with aioli instead of mayo, pickled shallots, edible flowers, and names so long they need a semicolon. They’re photographed under soft lighting, served on slate boards, and cost more than a decent bottle of wine.

And you know what? I love them too.There’s beauty in creativity. There’s something seductive about watching someone turn a sandwich into art. The crunch of the bread, the layers like a cross-section of desire — it’s theatrical. And sometimes, that’s exactly what you need.

But if I’m being honest?My favorite sandwich will always be the one made with whatever’s in the fridge.

A good piece of bread.A spread you vaguely remember opening three days ago.Some leftover vegetables, a fried egg, maybe a slice of cheese that’s slightly too thin. You eat it standing up, over the sink, or sitting barefoot on the kitchen floor.

And it’s perfect.

Around the World in 5 Sandwiches

If sandwiches were people, they’d be world travelers fluent in many languages. Here are five you should meet:

🇮🇹 Tramezzino – Italy

Soft, crustless, unapologetically white bread. The tramezzino is not here to be rustic or artisanal — it's here to be delicate, creamy, and perfectly chilled behind a glass counter next to the espresso machine.

Filled with things like tuna and mayo, egg salad, or prosciutto and artichokes, it’s a sandwich that whispers rather than shouts. You find it in old-school bars, eaten standing up, maybe while flipping through the newspaper or chatting with the bartender about football.

🇫🇷 Croque Monsieur – France

A sandwich with posture.The croque monsieur wears a béchamel coat like it's born to be admired. It’s grilled ham and cheese (usually Emmental or Gruyère), baked until golden, then topped with even more creamy sauce. It has a cousin, the croque madame, who comes with a fried egg on top — très chic.

It’s eaten slowly, ideally with a glass of wine and the type of conversation where someone eventually says “existential.”

🇻🇳 Bánh Mì – Vietnam

A beautiful collision between French colonialism and Vietnamese brilliance. A crusty baguette — light and crisp — packed with savory meats (like pork or chicken), pâté, pickled carrots and daikon, cilantro, chili, and mayo.

It’s fast, flavorful, and incredibly layered. Like biting into a story that started centuries ago and still tastes alive.

🇹🇷 Simit Sandwich – Turkey

Technically, the simit is not a sandwich — it’s a circular bread encrusted with sesame seeds, often described as a Turkish bagel’s more elegant cousin. But slice it open and fill it with feta, tomatoes, cucumber, olives, or even eggs… and just like that, it becomes a handheld masterpiece.

Sold by street vendors throughout Istanbul, often carried on the heads of balancing artists weaving through traffic, the simit sandwich is crunchy, chewy, salty, and full of personality.

🇺🇸 PB&J – United States

The sandwich of childhoods and chaotic Tuesdays. It’s sticky, sweet, salty, and deeply nostalgic — like a hug from a slightly unhinged aunt. Peanut butter and jelly may not be glamorous, but it has staying power. It gets you through.

It’s the only sandwich that pairs just as well with milk as it does with emotional unraveling.

Final Crumbs

In the end, maybe the reason we all love sandwiches so much is because they remind us of life at its most honest.

They carry our moods, our laziness, our leftovers, and our creativity. They’re the food of quick decisions and quiet rituals. The food of lunch breaks, field trips, heartbreaks, and happy endings.

And while the world might keep inventing newer, trendier versions — stacking foie gras between matcha brioche and calling it a “movement” — I’ll always come back to the simple ones.

So here’s to sandwiches:Reliable, adaptable, gloriously imperfect. A celebration of whatever you’ve got and whoever you are — right now, in this moment — between two slices of bread.

With Love Maggy