Trust me, I’d rather be “getting in the kitchen” and “making Amon a sammich,” but there’s work to be done. Which means, of course, that I’m daydreaming of making a sammich and reliving the last time I did by posting pictures of it.
If only all overpriced sandwiches in overpriced restaurants could look and taste this good.
Okay, I should elaborate/come clean a bit. I didn’t make this sandwich. Amon’s the god of the sandwich. I did, however, lay the foundation for it, and everyone knows that without a solid foundation, sandwiches are just salads.
I’ll leave the poeticizing to a better writer, so be on the lookout for a sandwich tutorial soon, but for now, I just needed to expound the wonders of home-baked wheat bread, in order that I might have a somewhat more pleasant taste in my mouth before going back to work for the day.
I also promise at some point to do a writeup on The Real Wonder Bread, but for now, you’ll just have to deal with your drool.
Fine. I’ll make my own restaurant with overpriced sandwiches.
With blackjack.
And hookers.
In fact, forget the blackjack.