When I was a kid, I was at a friend’s house, or he at mine, a lot during the summer. Like, we’re talking sleep-overs 3+ times a week. Naturally, that meant eating lunch. Now, at home, at the time, lunch meant bologna sandwiches, with mayo, mustard, and lettuce. If we were lucky, there were cheese slices. Bologna would be the only lunch meat my mom would buy – things like turkey or ham were luxuries, only to be dreamed of. Also, things like white bread. None of that rich people stuff at my house; no, we had to eat wheat bread like some sort of ruminant.
However, my friend, he had real lunch meat at his house. And not the crappy Budding stuff either, or even the cheap Oscar Meyer. No, this was real ritzy things like capricola or honey ham, that kind of stuff. Salami, pepperoni (not for pizzas), other sort of foreign-named business. And nice, delicious white bread, with bleached wheat for civilized folks such as himself. Now, me, I stayed away from that more fancy stuff, and stuck to what I knew – turkey and ham on white.
But there was a wrinkle in all this. They never had mayo. Like, actual, proper mayonnaise. They sometimes had this white stuff, which sat in the fridge like mayo, and looked like mayo. But it wasn’t. It was vile. It was disgusting. It made even the delicacies I was enjoying taste like rotten garbage. It was, as you might have figured out, Miracle Whip. So, burned on this, I learned to take it with just mustard. Mustard doesn’t make a sandwich moist, but at least it’s tasty. When you’re nine, you can’t complain about this stuff anymore.
All this to say, I had forgotten that I used up all my ranch (which I use instead of mayo, these days) at work. So today, I made my sandwich with just mustard. Well, it’s a turkey sandwich, with proper swiss cheese, on potato bread, but still just mustard. Took me back decades, I tell you. I couldn’t figure out what forum needed this story, so naturally it goes up on my blog.