- bread (I used Silueta Sin Corteza “8 cereales y semillas” because I had some.)
- cream cheese
- can of olives, preferably those green gazpatxo-flavored pitless ones
- bottle of whiskey (Cardhu was employed for this recipe; you are welcome to the swill of your choice.)
1. It’s hot. Try drinking the whiskey with ice to be different. Pour yourself a nice big glass and sit down for a few minutes. Rest, let your thoughts wander. If you need to cry, cry. If you are angry, break something, however small. Then breathe. Breathe.
2. Ponder your hunger and an unwell, enfeebled tomorrow if you keep drinking on an empty stomach. Remember this morning? You should eat something.
3. Get up and walk to the fridge. Look inside for something that’s not going to take much effort. Begin to feel yet more dejected. “I don’t want to leave the piso. At all,” you think. “Besides, all that’s open is H3.” Don’t worry, hey! There’s two little containers of spreadable! Olives! And the supernatural bread that never molds!
4. Spread sobrassada on one slice of bread and cream cheese on another. Cut your olives into rings and spread them evenly but generously on the cream cheese side. Press together.
5. Light your stove and set it to low. Put a pan on it. Refresh your drink while you wait for the pan to heat.
6. Butter the outside of the sandwich.
7. Gently place your sandwich in the pan. Let it toast on one side for a minute or two and flip it. Repeat if necessary. You want the bread golden and crispy and the innards melty and gooey.
8. Remember to turn off the stove.
*Kosher for despondency
Originally published in BCN Week, issue 12, August 18-30 2006