Worst Sandwich, Ever

Long, long ago when I was a but child-bride, I yearned to please my handsome husband so I dreamed of concocting hearty breakfasts, luscious lunches, and delightful dinners. This wasn’t to be. We had wisely married while still in college so were in possession of two things money couldn’t buy, abject poverty and true love. We were just scraping by. After about two weeks, about all we had left in the refrigerator was a half-loaf of bread, mustard, a couple of lonely, frozen chicken gizzards, and an old, dry sliver of cheddar cheese. I fried those chicken gizzards up nice and hard, sliced them as thin as possible, added the slivered cheddar cheese and sat down with My Darling to enjoy the amazing delicacy. It was the worst thing I ever tried to eat. The piquant taste of overdone gizzard slathered with mustard was not a good companion taste for the dried out cheddar cheese. I was never tempted to try that combo again.

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51 thoughts on “Worst Sandwich, Ever

  1. I was bad at synchronizing my meals, so it was ready at the same time. Invariably something would get burnt. One day in church, the minister was giving a sermon on forbearance and how we have to have the attitude of this husband who, as he’s walking up to his house with an invited guest and sees smoke coming from a window, comments, “Well, I see my wife has prepared another burnt offering.”
    My then husband turns and points at me in a very animated fashion to let everyone know that was me. Memories. Ain’t they grand?

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  2. Oh, how you made me laugh with this post; and, oh, the memories you stirred in me about being young, married, poor and in college. They were wonderful years filled with the sort of laughter you must have enjoyed trying to eat the worst sandwich ever.

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  3. Great story. I learnt to cook at my mother’s knee, just post rationing. No gizzard, liver or chicken heart was ever wasted and I still make ‘force meat balls’ (breadcrumbs, herbs, egg and chopped turkey giblets) at Christmas.

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    • We never wasted anything. Bony chicken parts were taken off the bone and went into dumplings, soup, or spaghetti. A chicken made 3 meals. Fried or baked legs and thighs first night, breast and wings, second night, and bony parts third night. We made 4 meals out of a pound of ground meat with sauces and casseroles. I threatened my husband if he got into leftovers, the next night’s dinner. He worked in college cafeteria so I’m sure he filled up there before he came home. That probably kept him from starving. He had a huge appetite. We only bought powdered milk. He could have all the milk he wanted in cafeteria. I think he grabbed it when trays came back in if it was unopened. Some nights he drank six cartons.

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  4. Goodness I remember being newly married and poor, but thankfully chicken gizzard wasn’t on the menu, I feel my mouth screwing up at the thought of it….we did have a few cheap pasta dishes as I recall.

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  5. Oh! That is priceless! Two things money can’t buy! We had only one meal we couldn’t eat. We took a bite, looked at each other, scrambled for cash, and went to the diner. All we could afford was a hot dog apiece, but it tasted good to us.

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  6. As I knew bride, I served my husband spaghetti sauce over raviolis. I defrosted the raviolis, poured the sauce over and added a slice of garlic toast to the side.

    I didn’t realize I was also supposed to cook the ravioli until I saw the expression on my husband’s face!

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