it's strange, the way food tastes so much better -- and in the most ordinary places! -- when i leave america. is it because of the good time euphoria that comes with being on the road, away from all that's familiar? is it because the food is generally chemical and pesticide-free? or maybe i'm imagining things.
one bite of this sandwich and i knew it wasn't me.
when the bread is baked by hand in the back of the shop instead of miles away in a factory somewhere and when you're eating the freshest ingredients, it's just better tasting food. it's easy to find this sandwich in the city -- so easy, i take them for granted. but not today.
this was the first snack i'd had all day and it was wonderful. there's the crunch of the fresh bread, giving way to its soft underbelly, and then the salty/savoryness of the paper-thin proscuitto cut with the heft of a thick tomato and crisp greens. and somewhere in there, a bit of thinly sliced bocconcini. something this simple is always such a joy. i can't believe i know people who've never tried it. seriously -- could i ever go back to kraft american cheese and bologna sandwiches on wonder bread, smeared with mayonnaise?
this sandwich (and many others like it) is one of the many ways that new york city has ruined me.
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