Oh, wow. Mick Jagger just had his escripette write me. I’ve been thinking about the sandwich I’d serve to Mick for years. This is brilliant. This could be the big one. It’s not that the sandwich I serve him will make me; it’s the entire experience Mick has that will make me. The sandwich just needs to be interesting to Mick—he’ll probably nibble on wine gums and field calls the whole time...-Chris Onstad, "The Sandwich Duel"
What’s Mick’s sandwich, then? Something I like to call “Glucilage Love.” A three-dimensional tableau where two whole foxes playfully court one another around a life-size picnic basket, and the whole thing is in a large cube of aspic.
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I lived in Hong Kong in my mid 20s and I lived with my boss and a coworker. In the 90s anyhow maids were cheep and you would send them to cooking classes to cook for you. Our maid was a sweetheart and would cook us all a big dinner every night except for Sunday, her half day off. Soup, fish, rice and two to four other dishes.
A few weeks in I start getting nostalgic for salad. The next night the pride of place is some chopped raw vegetables swimming in what must have been a complete jar of mayonnaise, which I think she must have gone down to the USA Store to get just for me.
Eating enough to be polite but making sure it never happened again was tricky.
posted by shothotbot at 8:46 PM on August 17, 2011 [4 favorites]