Nosh Out – Ring in the New Year Between Two Pieces of Bread

Most people focus on the last night of the year. Champagne toasts, overpriced buffet dinners, crustaceans of various types, and open bars. This fare usually results in the need for greasy food and a hair of the dog bloody mary the next morning. My festivities were celebrated with friends at home, a smorgasbord of potluck offerings on the dining room table and a plastic bin full of beers, ice, and wine. Midnight was “counted down” by Bohemian Rhapsody, rather than Auld Lang Syne, and the next morning was both hangover and walk of shame free. But a second celebration came the next day, as Rita (you may remember her from the tamale party post) once again graciously opened her home and her sandwich presses for a bellini and panini party.

Guests brought sandwich fillings and condiments along with a bottle of wine/champagne/Prosecco. We hungrily circled around the panoply of offerings, carefully constructing towering topping in preparation for the press. Soon, the scents of nutty butter and herbed olive oil suffused the room as the coated bread turned to grilled toast. Waiting my turn, I sipped mango puree-infused Prosecco. The heady aroma of my favorite “cologne,” Eau du Bacon, a side effect of my food offering, still lingered on my wrists as I brought the fluted glass to my mouth, effervescence tickling my lips. The Prosecco was dry, its golden hay color bubbling with carbonation. The mango puree brought a sweetness to the glass that removed the usual toast flavors. A refreshing drink, we often made the mistake of adding the puree first, causing the flute to foam over with the addition of the spirit.

My panini started with a base of onion and rosemary bread, painted with olive oil infused with the same. Having surveyed the potential combinations, I decided on darker, warm, umami flavors that would meld together on the heat. Honey mustard, still grainy with the seeds, spread across my doughy canvas and was quickly followed by roasted turkey, bacon, caramelized onions, blue cheese, and sautéed mushrooms. A humble suggestion with pressed sandwiches, simplicity is not to be scorned, as a complex construction will just fall apart. Cranberry relish and salad were added to my plate and I impatiently waited for my sandwich to transform. The bread rendered sufficiently toasty, I removed it from the press and, gingerly handling the grilled creation, bit in.

Freshly toasted sandwiches are completely unlike their raw kin. Flavors melt into one another, the crunch of the toast giving way to unctuous cheese. Moisture in meat is unlocked from the heat, as are the aromatics from condiments and vegetative toppings. My participation in the conversation took a hiatus as I indulged in gastronomic bliss.