Mrs. G. received an email from Johnny Depp saying he was charmed and smitten with her blog. Part of it read:
Mrs. G, life is a mystery. I stumbled on your blog last year and within months realized our love was as real as the realest deal.
See, you are not going to believe this, because it isn't true. But wouldn't it be a gas if it was?
Purple. The color of the sky in Mrs. G's world is purple.
In honor of Johnny's undoubtedly imminent arrival (Honey, I'm in Utah tonight and Colorado tomorrow night -- both have major airports), Mrs. G. is running one of her favorite posts ever, and she didn't write it. This might be your third time to read it, but you won't notice. And FYI, this sandwich is almost as delicious as JD.
Of Bacon and Bucaneers: A Derfwad Sandwich Tutorial by Melanie
Originally published July, 2008
When tasked with a Derfwad Manor guest post, my first impulse was to make a sandwich. For me. To eat while thinking about a good post topic. And then--Eureka!--I knew that a sandwich, the most inclusive and versatile and downright friendly food around, would be the perfect topic for a blog so inclusive and versatile and downright friendly. The sandwich shall lead the way, I decided, and set my heart on recreating Chef Thomas Keller's Perfect Sandwich, an artery-clutching hybrid of a BLT, grilled cheese, and fried egg sandwich that, in foodie circles, is rumored to be the Holy Grail on bread. The sandwich is the answer!
But my confidence quickly flagged, and I became a touch concerned about my sandwich tutorial holding the interest of the Derfwad Nation (not so much into sandwiches, more into manwiches, this group) so I added a little decoy, a little Derfy something to distract and delight during the culinary proceedings.
Introducing, that little something:
Now, I realize that, technically, Mrs. G.'s obsession is with Johnny Depp, the stringy-haired, disheveled, faintly effeminate, gaunt-cheeked, prettily filthy film actor, and not his character, Captain Jack Sparrow, the stringy-haired, disheveled, faintly effeminate, gaunt-cheeked, completely filthy film pirate. Apples and oranges. But, sadly, since a proper Johnny Depp action figure (or inaction figure, for that matter) was not readily available at my local mart, Jack it is. (And, yes, that is Jack, even though he looks more like an Asian Val Kilmer.)
So, let's make some sandwiches, matey!
First up: get yourself some good bacon. (Vegans and veggies, I apologize in advance. Also, my apologies to those allergic to unwashed, strangely swishy pirates. I feel your pain.)
I know that the sight of La Depp sprawled provocatively across a package of good bacon may be too sensual for some of you, but you must pick yourselves up and forge ahead. For the love of the sandwich!
A quick side note: Captain Jack may be a filthy, toothless drunk, but even he knows that nitrates are no good, no good at all, people. Cook several slices of bacon (about 4 slices per sandwich) using your preferred bacon-cooking method (fry pan, oven broiler, sheer mind power) until crisp and lovely...
Meanwhile, slice up some rustic, sturdy, crusty white bread and pop the slices in the toaster.
While the bread toasts, thinly slice up some tomato and have some nice pieces of washed lettuce ready to go. Here, Captain Jack is flinging his body across the cutting board, trying to save me from The Tomato Salmonella Plague of Aught-Eight, but not to worry you sweet, filthy bastard: they're local.
Now, grab one egg (preferably sans pirate) for each sandwich. Melt a little pat of butter into a nonstick skillet over medium heat and gently fry your eggs, turning once, for about 4 minutes. The edges will crisp up but the yolk will stay slightly, deliciously runny. Remove the eggs from the heat. Assembly time!
Finally, spread a little mayo on the other slice of toast, pop on some lettuce, and you get this:
It really is amazing, the way the warm yolk runs out a bit and sauces the sandwich and all that salty, crispy, rich-yet-fresh goodness fuses together in every bite. And I know some of you may worry about putting something messy, oozing, and potentially filled with bacteria all over a sandwich...
After successful sandwich assembly and consumption, Captain Jack staggers off to the doll house...
...to enjoy a well-deserved, rum-and-yolk-fueled blackout, on pink plastic sheets, no less. (I think this is the part where the whole Keith Richards influence becomes particularly apparent.) Behold, the power of the sandwich!
If you'd like a more precise version of Keller's recipe, check out Food & Wine. And, just FYI, the part of Captain Jack was played by The Pirates Of The Caribbean At World's End Deluxe Captain Jack Sparrow Action Set, purchased (on clearance) at my neighborhood grocery store for $2.29.
Melanie lives in Idaho and has a blog called BeanPaste which, strangely, has little to do with beans. She takes pictures, makes sushi out of Twinkies, and encourages the Roomba to chase her children. And for what it's worth, she thinks your ass looks great in those pants, truly.