Spicing up a sandwich

Columnist Caitlin Weigel experiments with the science of turning a simple sandwich into an avocado-tasting work of art.

I’m going to be honest with you, dear readers: I kind of copped out this week. I made a sandwich.

I know, I know – we’re all well aware of how to make a sandwich. It’s a simple “bread, meat, cheese, extras combo” kind of deal, and we’ve probably been crafting them since we were old enough to reach the peanut butter jar.

However, I think we often underestimate the power of a good sandwich. The equation is simple enough, but the possibilities are absolutely endless.

Retire boring white bread for pitas or spinach wraps. Swap American cheese for havarti or muenster. Replace turkey or ham with chicken salad with grapes or grilled portabella mushrooms.

Forgo the plain mayo and try hummus or ranch dressing. Then there’s the green element – you can add tomatoes, lettuce, sprouts, onions, red peppers or cucumbers.

So what has me suddenly preaching the gospel of sandwich?

Honey’s Sit ‘N Eat.

Located at Fourth and Brown streets, Honey’s isn’t exactly the easiest to get to via public transportation. But rest assured, it’s totally worth the stress of getting there.

I waited until my female parental came to town with an automobile to try out the famous diner, but it’s totally a feasible walk once the city thaws out in the spring. Plus, it’s a good way to work up an appetite.

The atmosphere at Honey’s is downright adorable, and the food is just like what mama used to make, but only if your mom was a ridiculously good cook.

All the food was wonderful – from the brisket tacos with lime to the asparagus casserole to the carrot cake with maple cream cheese icing drizzled with cranberry and vanilla sauce. That cake is still making cameos in my dreams.

Everything was perfect.

But my turkey club is what has me singing the praises of the classic lunch staple. This was not just any turkey club – it was the turkey club. Sure, it had the basic elements – turkey, bacon, tomato, wheat bread – but there were a few surprises mixed in too.

Instead of regular mayonnaise, Honey’s used a special avocado-mayo blend. And a cranberry sour cream-type deal added an exciting tang to the meal.

To top it all off, it was the most perfectly proportioned sandwich I’ve ever encountered. The folks at Honey’s have the bread-to-meat-to-extras ratio down to a science.

Feeling inspired by my lunch at Honey’s, I tried to recreate the club at home. I bought a really ripe avocado (read: super mushy) and mashed it up, mixing it up with little mayo (two parts avocado, one part mayo).

I tried to recreate the cranberry element of the sandwich, but the results were disastrous. You know that weird block of jellied cranberry that comes around everything Thanksgiving? Bad things happen when you put it in a blender with sour cream.

The sandwich was good and my passion for the foodstuff has been rekindled, but I still say go for the eat. Honey’s is more like an entire experience rather than just a meal.

The wait staff was ridiculously nice, taking the time to actually talk to the customers and make honest recommendations despite the fact the place was completely packed. Honey’s is the kind of place that makes you want to be a regular.

So next time you’re hankering for a hearty portion of deliciousness, make the trek to the cute little diner. In the meantime, push the known boundaries of the sandwich. Peanut butter and egg, anyone?

Caitlin Weigel can be reached at caitlin.weigel@temple.edu.