Wednesday, March 18, 2009

A Very Special Ham Sandwich

Long ago somebody made me a ham sandwich. It was no ordinary ham sandwich. It was the best ham sandwich ever made. That ham sandwich changed my life.

The sandwich was constructed on a bakery fresh roll from Jewel food store. Or it may have been from Dominick’s, but that’s hardly the point, is it? It was bakery fresh, let me tell you. On the roll, she tenderly placed mesmerizing folds of succulent ham, sliced by a deli professional extraordinaire who must have been trained in France. Had to be France. No doubt about it. To adorn the ham, which was succulent as I’ve mentioned, she playfully feathered a few leaves of the crispest lettuce ever known to crackle. On top of that, she devoted two slices of palate-gushing tomatoes, undoubtedly grown in the gardens of Pomona. With a blanket of thinly sliced American cheese, she reassured the ham – succulent, and garnish. Before completing the bread borne fare, she slathered the lid of the roll with a copious helping of soothing mayonnaise, as if she were applying the healing balm to the wound of a decapitated soldier. The sandwich was served to me on a paper plate from the Ming Dynasty. I could tell by the poise in the chef’s eyes that she knew she had crafted a masterpiece.

By now, you are probably saying to yourself, “So what. Big deal. It’s just a sandwich. You are a monstrous idiot.” Well, friend, you may be correct in your assessment of me, but not the sandwich, which was made with ham that was succulent, by the way. Because - now listen closely - this was a magical ham sandwich, the likes of which this author’s tongue, nor any tongue, has not savored since.

At the time, I was new to that family, and not well known by anybody other than the number one son. Nonetheless, his mother poured her soul into that sandwich for me. After eating it, I thought to myself, “If this kind of excellence can exist in a mere ham sandwich, and people can behave in such a selfless manner as she did in the creation of this sandwich, what else could be out there!” From that day forward, I vowed to dedicate my life to the achievement of selfless excellence. It is that wonderful sandwich, and the effort put into its formation, to which I credit everything I’ve been able to achieve in this world since that day (which isn't much, to no fault of the sandwich or its creator, but it's the thought that counts).

No, really, it was one helluva ham sandwich.

Thank you, Bubba (aka Mrs. Mop).


Sid said...

At first I thought this was just going to be a post about a stupid ham sandwich.

I was wrong.

kristy said...

Ah, food porn!

Anonymous said...

Now I'm hungry.

Anonymous said...

My Dad was a decapitated soldier. Thanks for telling his story so beautifully.

Mrs. Mop fan said...

A nice tribute for a nice lady. RIP

keysunset said...

Thanks, MR, that was lovely.

Anonymous said...

After reading your heart-felt memories of the perfect ham sandwich, I am inspired to compose a song celebrating the joy that was Mrs. Mop's delectable onion kabobs.