“Is there no one left in Britain who can make a sandwich?” asked the front page of the Daily Mail on Monday morning, in response to the news that a sandwich factory in Northampton is recruiting staff from Hungary because none of the town’s 8,000 jobless fancies working there. Inevitably, Twitter came into its own, and it wasn’t long before the #dailymailsandwich hashtag was confirming the paper’s suspicions with a range of jokey pictures featuring everything from a packet of mini rolls and a can of Stella betwixt two slices of granary to a lettuce and DVD combo and a lemon on top of some sourdough slices.
In fact, Britain is in the midst of a sandwich renaissance. Tempting as it is to sniff at Eat’s occasionally hamfisted attempts to be on trend (“siracha” sauce, anyone?), high street sarnies have improved, and beyond the chains there is an army of people in Britain making damn fine sandwiches.
There has been a resurgence of gourmet versions of once humble staples – see Dishoom restaurant in London for its peerless bacon naan roll, or indeed my local market’s rich haggis toastie (also available in most of Scotland), stupendously easy to recreate at home. Even the grilled cheese sandwich was given Felicity’s Cloake’s perfecting treatment in last week’s G2 (and Common in Manchester pimps its with pulled ham hock). It’s not crayfish and rocket science. As Cloake says: “The perfect sandwich has to have a contrast of textures and flavours. Think crunchy toasted sourdough oozing gooey molten cheese and sharp, vinegary pickles.” Since speaking to her, I can think of little else.
With inspiration from around the world, British cities now offer a decent approximation of anything you could want. The Vietnamese bánh mì, with its rambunctious spice, glossy pork belly and liver pâté at Hanoi Bike Shop in Glasgow or Baowow in Bristol, wonderful pastrami sandwiches as exemplified by the Reuben at Liverpool’s Free State Kitchen, or the near ubiquitous pulled pork bun from places such as Oink in Edinburgh. London’s Burger & Lobster has dropped the burger in its new fast food outlet to focus on what people really want – the lobster roll. And then there are more niche offerings – Helen Graves, author of 101 Sandwiches, is a fan of the salt fish bokit, a fried pitta from Guadeloupe stuffed with saltfish and hot sauce.
But for food writer Tim Hayward, nothing can beat the splendour of a classic British shooter’s sandwich – an Edwardian recipe that is basically a steak in a whole loaf of bread with sauted mushrooms and shallots. It is, he declares “the world’s best”. No one left who can make a sandwich? We have never had such a varied array – it’s a golden age.
