Mattan Masri week 8: The Sandwich Alignment Chart

 

    "Sandwich definition" was certainly not what I expected to be looking up tonight, but here we are I suppose. Pictured above is the fabled sandwich alignment chart, which seeks to define the various criteria one might use to consider certain food items a sandwich. The simple grid describes differing ideologies on the two main aspects of a sandwich: structure and ingredients. Purists in either category abide by more traditional sandwich values when determining whether something is a sandwich, whereas rebels are more open in what may be considered a sandwich. These alignments range anywhere from structure and ingredient purists who only consider classic sandwiches like a BLT to be true sandwiches (AKA, elitists) to structure and ingredient rebels who will go so far as to consider pop tarts to be sandwiches (the audacity). That's enough describing the chart for now though, after all, you all have eyes* and can read the chart for yourselves, so we will move onto more solid examples.

   Regardless of how much you agree with sandwich purist philosphy, one must admit that hardline sandwich traditionalist thinking allows for very little room for discussion with its strict definitions. In other words, it's boring and we're done talking about it. The neutral zones are where things begin to get interesting. Structure purists require sandwiches to have two separate pieces of bread (or bread equivalents) on either side of the sandwich. When combined with ingredient neutralists and/or rebels this can lead to intriguing creations. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a well known and loved nutrient mass (sorry Noah)  are technically only sandwiches for ingredient nonpurists. An ice cream sandwich is without a doubt an ingredient rebel, but the word "sandwich" in the name is meant to deceive purists.** Two pancakes that have some syrup in between them? That is a sandwich (Structure purist, ingredient rebel). Hot dogs are only considered sandwiches by true neutrals, until the point at which both halves of the bun are separated. Then it is also a sandwich by structure purist standards. Changing minor details can alter the entire alignment of any sandwich. These categorizations are all well and good, but lets see how far we can truly push what can be considered a sandwich.

    Ingredient rebels certainly create zany forms of sustenance, but with the power of gathering information from more sources than a single internet chart and suspension of disbelief, we can go further. Merriam Webster gives two noun definitions of a sandwich. The first of which is two or more slices of bread (or halves of a roll) with filling in between. It also includeds open faced sandwiches. So far this definition seems in line with structure purists and ingredient rebels. The second definition however reads "something resembling a sandwich especially composite structural material consisting of layers often of high-strength facings bonded to a low strength central core." This is huge. The first definition never directly stated it, but the second definition heavily implies that the sandwich filling need not necesarrily be food. While it does mention a "lowe strength central core" this is more of a suggestion than a hard rule based on the wording. With this knowledge in mind anything can be a sandwich. The simple act of placing two slices of bread (or bread adjacent) on either side of something makes it a sandwich. Below is master chef, Gordon Ramsay demonstrating this concept.

In 2006, as orchestrated by the American performance artist, Ze Frank, two people, one in Spain, and one in New Zealand worked together to create the largest sandwich in the world. They did this by each placing a piece of bread on the ground. New Zealand and Spain are on opposite sides of the world, meaning that by Merriam Webster's definition of a sandwich they have turned the Earth into a sandwich. The largest sandwich in the world, is the world. Every human, every building, every animal and sandwich, every tree, every rock, every mountain, and the grandest pool of sauce we know as the ocean have all unified between two slices of baguette.

    Before I conclude, I must answer a question that is likely to arise. What is my sandwich alignment? Personally, I am a structure purist, but ingredient rebel. As my opinion it is obviously the correct one (that's how opinions work) and everyone else is wrong. With this knowledge now embedded in your skull, like a particularly stubborn piece of shrapnel, I urge you to go out into the world and discuss your sandwich alignment with your friends. Try not to start any sandwich related civil wars.

*Citation needed.

**Marketing tactics such as these were common in the oppressive, hardline sandwich traditionalist regime of Serbia in the mid 1900s. The use of the word "sandwich" in the names of ingredient nonpurist foods allowed sandwich nonpurist freedom fighters to transport supplies unnoticed.