This one is along the lines of meals I’ll never forget. And not because it was the day our son was born or A.J. Duhe intercepted Kenny O’Brien and wrecked the Jets’ season. Or an elaborate concoction of items assembled in a pan, reduced and strained to sauce consistency. This one was just plain awesome.
It was on our trip to Lugano, Switzerland at a table outside a small but bustling panini joint. They had about 20 panini, all simple, based on prosciutto, turkey, mortadella, and salami. Rather than the standard deli slicer we all know and love (except the guy I worked with who cut off a finger), they use a Berkel hand-cranked slicer, which permits one essentially to shave slices of meat thinner than paper-thin, if that’s possible. Let’s call it tissue-thin.
My sandwich arrived, full of that great prosciutto (did I mention Lugano is in the center of meat-eating country, and the cured stuff is excellent), a few slices of brie, baby arugula, and touch of mustard. Good bread is the key to any sandwich, in this case a fantastic, crusty, black bread with sesames. Each bite was as succulent as the next.
I won’t include a recipe; for this one, you need the right ingredients, and if you happen to have the right ingredients, you don’t need me to tell you what to do with them.