Cheese Dreams

I have just discovered that it is actually possible to put too much cheese in a sandwich. Until tonight I had not thought it possible per se, The correct type of cheese in bread of an appropriate tensile strength and all should be well. Or so I thought.

This may still be true in the cheese sandwich's raw, unadulterated form, but sadly it is not when cooked.

It's the Brevill Sandwich maker, see. I do like a good toasted cheddar sarnie. Especially if there's some mozzarella to be had, too. You see, what happens is, the bread toasts into sealed clamshells full of molten cheese - in theory. And I've noticed that once toasted, there's always loads of room inside the toastie.

So this time I factored in 150% more cheese.

That went well until I was engrossed in the intricacies that are the coffee mug and lack of spoon. My attention wavered.

Have you ever heard a cheese sandwich whistle? I have. A few minutes ago.

"What" thought I, "is that?" Well, gentle reader, it was the first ever recorded sandwich fumarole. There was a jet of steam about 6" long issuing from the corner of one of the sandwiches. I should have taken steps to prevent an escalation at that point, but I confess the intrepid explorer was upon me, and I just had to watch. Within a minute, the steam fumerole had edged up to high pressure, and the steam only condensed into something observable with the naked eye about an inch from the sarnie. The whistling had stopped - or reached a pitch beyond the human auditory range - and I confess that I was half looking for a gauge with the needle pushed into red just like all your favourite mad scientist movies.

Anyway, just about the time I thought it was calming down, the cheese appeared. Boisterous, hot and streaming from three corners of the toaster (it did plug the fumarole). I confess that my reflexes are not enough to cope with multidirectional projectile molten fondue. I got most of it and onto a plate, too. But there is more there cooling down and solidifying.

My table now resembles a culinary Mount Etna, and the sandwiches were still only half full.

Cheese Dreams

I have just discovered that it is actually possible to put too much cheese in a sandwich. Until tonight I had not thought it possible per se, The correct type of cheese in bread of an appropriate tensile strength and all should be well. Or so I thought.

This may still be true in the cheese sandwich's raw, unadulterated form, but sadly it is not when cooked.

It's the Brevill Sandwich maker, see. I do like a good toasted cheddar sarnie. Especially if there's some mozzarella to be had, too. You see, what happens is, the bread toasts into sealed clamshells full of molten cheese - in theory. And I've noticed that once toasted, there's always loads of room inside the toastie.

So this time I factored in 150% more cheese.

That went well until I was engrossed in the intricacies that are the coffee mug and lack of spoon. My attention wavered.

Have you ever heard a cheese sandwich whistle? I have. A few minutes ago.

"What" thought I, "is that?" Well, gentle reader, it was the first ever recorded sandwich fumarole. There was a jet of steam about 6" long issuing from the corner of one of the sandwiches. I should have taken steps to prevent an escalation at that point, but I confess the intrepid explorer was upon me, and I just had to watch. Within a minute, the steam fumerole had edged up to high pressure, and the steam only condensed into something observable with the naked eye about an inch from the sarnie. The whistling had stopped - or reached a pitch beyond the human auditory range - and I confess that I was half looking for a gauge with the needle pushed into red just like all your favourite mad scientist movies.

Anyway, just about the time I thought it was calming down, the cheese appeared. Boisterous, hot and streaming from three corners of the toaster (it did plug the fumarole). I confess that my reflexes are not enough to cope with multidirectional projectile molten fondue. I got most of it and onto a plate, too. But there is more there cooling down and solidifying.

My table now resembles a culinary Mount Etna, and the sandwiches were still only half full.