I dreamed a dream: the Egg Celise

This is a dream I had a while back, to the best of my memory.

It has been several years since the mysterious extra-terrestrial virus turned over half the population into mindless zombies. While the harsh winters have killed off the majority of the monsters, the major threat now is surviving raids from those still human who have rejected all attempts at re-civilization. 

I am the leader of a ragtag bunch of human survivors, traveling in a caravan across the country in the hopes of finding peace. So far, it has been a long, dark road.

Then one day we rescue an old man from a band of raiders and he tells me that I am destined to save the world. The Egg Celise will save us all, and I am the only one who can call it back to Earth.

The Egg Celise? “That sounds like a sandwich,” I said.

“It does sound like a sandwich,” replied the old man, “but it is actually a spaceship, hidden in the asteroid belt, and protected from the virus that has plagued humanity.”

Somehow I figure out that the amulet I carry is actually the Egg Celise’s beacon and I manage to summon the ship. The amulet glows and text appears:

EGG CELISE HAS BEEN CALLED.

Then, not too long later, 

EGG CELISE HAS LANDED.

We had to drive for what felt like forever before we found the ship, canted on an angle in a forest. It was HUGE: a giant flattened cylinder of white and orange, with the requisite flashing lights and windows and weird chimneys one would expect of a spaceship.

“This is amazing! Who will be the captain?” The old man glanced my way and said one, terrifying word:

“You.”

I stepped aboard my new vessel and discovered decks upon decks of survivors already on board, settling in to a life of peace. They all greeted me by name as I made my way to the bridge.

Unfortunately I woke up before I reached the bridge so I don’t know what happened next. But then I had another dream, in which I was telling someone all about the dream that I just had. My listener also thought that “Egg Celise” sounded like a sandwich.

So the point of this is that I need to make this sandwich. Any ideas as to what it should be made of?

Spicy Chicken Salad (Sandwich)

Now, while nothing can really top my chicken salad that can change your opinions on chicken salad, some other versions come close (especially when I make them).  I had defrosted three chicken thighs with the intention of doing something else with them, and then I didn’t. So I had three pieces of raw chicken in my fridge that needed cooking — and soon.

I roasted the thighs (45 minutes at 350°F) the night before with some cajun spices sprinkled over top.

Then I dismantled them by removing the bones and chopped them into small pieces.

I grabbed a knob of fresh ginger and cut off a bit about the size of a loonie.

Peeled it and sliced off paper-thin slices.

Which I then minced.

Sliced up some green onions.

Tossed the ginger and the onions in a bowl with some cajun seasoning, curry powder, cinnamon, and lemon juice.

Added the chicken.

Then a generous helping of mayonnaise (everyone’s preference for how much is different so I’ll leave that to you) and a vigorous stirring.

I decided to put some in a sandwich, so I made a nice cucumber base …

… and topped the salad with some chopped tomato and grated cheese left over from a taco night in recent history.  Waste not …

It was a GOOD sandwich.  Hit the spot perfectly.

The Family Sammy

You may not like this sandwich.  It’s a bit of an acquired taste.  It’s also freaking weird.  But bear with me.  It’s really good once you get past the weirdness.

So this sandwich is actually a family recipe that goes back a few generations, to one set of the great-grands on my mother’s side.  Maybe even back to Scotland.  Hard to say.  Origins shrouded in mystery and all that jazz.

Legend has it that my mother made this sandwich for my father as a token of her love back when they were first together.  She packed it into his lunch and sent him off on his day.  When he discovered this — thing — in his lunch he was absolutely horrified.  My mother was offended that he would be disgusted by such a beautiful sandwich.  Forty years later, it’s one of my dad’s favourites.

(Is any of this making you want to try this yet?  I thought so.)

So first you take some rye bread.  I like the swirly stuff, which is pretty mild but you can get a hint of the rye.  My parents prefer the super dense stuff that slices about a centimetre thick.

On one slice of bread, spread some nice mayonnaise.  On the other slice, some peanut butter.  Crunchy is best, but we have smooth on hand for Papa John so that’s what is on offer.  Don’t worry, it’s gonna get weirder.

Slice up a tomato and slide that onto a slice of rye.  Garnish with salt and pepper.

Add a few pieces of red onion (I usually forego this part but I’m sticking with tradition here, just for you).

Then a few thin slices of cheddar cheese.  The cheese, like the onion, is optional.  The main essence of the sandwich is mayo, peanut butter, and tomato on rye.  But I like it with cheese.

And that’s the sandwich.  I know it seems rather icky, but if you are on the lookout for something a little bit different, I suggest you give it a try.  The combination of tangy mayo with crunchy earthy peanut butter, the burst of flavour from a good tomato on the faint bitterness of rye is actually quite good.  Give it a shot, I dare you.

What’s your favourite weird sandwich?

Twisted Bee Ell Tee

I love taking classic dishes and putting a little something extra in them to add just that little bit more to their perfection.  And there is nothing more perfect than the classic BLT (that’s a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich, for those few of you uninitiated).  But is that actually true?  No.  Because you can always add.  There’s the BELT, for instance: bacon, egg, lettuce, tomato (on a biscuit, no less).  And a variation of the grilled cheese that we like around these parts, the BTC (bacon, tomato, cheese).

As I have learned, adding avocado makes pretty much ANYTHING better.  In fact, I think I’m going to make a decree here for the Avocado Rule, which parallels the Pie’s Banana Rule, wherein adding a banana to anything (shakes, smoothies, pies) makes it better.  So this one is the same rule, but, you know, with avocados.  So we’re making a BALT (bacon-avocado-lettuce-tomato).

We don’t do a lot of sandwiches here at Ali Does It, but with the Pie away for the weekend it’s all I can really muster up the energy for.  This sandwich is at the high end of my give-a-crap level for the next few days.  So stand back in awe.

First you take a nice ripe avocado.  And you cut it open.  And you get rid of the pit.

And you empty it into a bowl.  I know, this is heady stuff.

And you mash it up with some garlic and some lime juice.

Until you have a marvellous guacamole.  I would use a whole avocado for one sandwich but the Pie doesn’t let me so I would recommend one avocado for TWO sandwiches.  Leave that alone for a bit.

Then you take a couple teaspoons of mayonnaise (whatever kind you want, it’s your sammich), and add a sprinkle or two of chipotle seasoning. Give that a stir.  Tada.  Now you have chipotle mayo.  CAN YOU EVEN HANDLE IT?  Me neither.

Slice up a tomato while you’re at it.  And wash and dry some lettuce.

Now you need some bacon.  However much you want, cooked however you like it.  I would recommend at least two slices of bacon per sandwich, but you can do what you want.  I’m not your mother.

Slice up some bread of your choosing.  This is a simple ciabatta.  Regular sandwich bread is standard.  What is the total BEST though is a nice fresh croissant (it might be my favourite thing ever, especially if you add some gooey Brie to your BALT).  Like the BEST.

Now you put it together!  Smear on some spicy mayo and soothing guacamole, then layer on your bacon, lettuce, and tomato and you’re good to go.

Did you need a DIY on how to make a sandwich?  Perhaps not.  But I don’t care.  Because now I get to eat this. With a salad that is mostly comprised of exactly the same ingredients: lettuce, tomatoes, bacon, and bread. Oh well.

Poached Pears

This is another recipe I borrowed from Caroline over at The Wanna be Country Girl, who in turn got it from David Leibovitz, one of my favourite chefs.  I may have borrowed a few of his recipes myself on a few occasions.

Fall is the time for apples and pears, and delicate pears lend themselves well to a gentle poaching. So cut up 4 firm, ripe pears.  These are Bartletts, I think — I got them at Costco.  They could be Anjou. There was a big pile and they were all messed around, and I’m not that good at fruit identification. Quarter, core, and peel the pear pieces and plop them in a large saucepan.

Slide in 1 sliced lemon, 2 teaspoons vanilla extract, and 1 1/3 cups granulated sugar. Pour 1 quart (1 litre) water over the fruit.

Cut a square of parchment paper, fold it into quarters, and cut a hole from the centre.

So when it’s unfolded you have a hole in the middle.  This will let the steam out.

Tuck the parchment paper into the saucepan and bring the fruit to a simmer for 25 minutes.

Then I removed the fruit to cool slightly and turned up the heat on the remaining liquid to reduce it to a syrup.

As we had clafoutis for dessert that night, we let the pears cool and had them for breakfast the next day, with their own syrup and a daub of whipped cream.

Amazing on top of pancakes!  Try the pears in sandwiches and salads, too.