Sandwich (the Friday treat)

Anybody in for a trivial post for this Friday? I am sure it was a long week for my readers just like it was for me. I know that it was Thanksgiving for the Americans yesterday and today is Black Friday for them, a sinister name for a day of consumerism. Maybe it is fitting. I am somewhat at peace (or at least I made a truce) with capitalism now that I work in the private sector, but I find buying frenzy difficult to deal with. But that is another story (which I probably told already)...

Anyway, there is one kind of business I am always happy to encourage and see prosper: the local sandwich shop. When it is a quality one, that is. Because they give you soggy sandwiches filled with Miracle Whip instead of mayonnaise, then I don't like. I like professional sandwich makers, people who know their craft and their trade. And I found just the right place recently, near work. So on Friday, when I don't feel like preparing my lunch, I go and buy a sandwich there, with a small Coca Cola and a bag of cashew nuts. There is a nice variety of sandwiches, they make them fresh with fresh ingredients, the staff are efficient and friendly and just chatty enough. So today I had a smoked salmon baguette (I guess I was feeling like having something akin to my Montreal Friday meal), with Philadelphia cheese, lettuce, onions, salt and pepper and a dash of lemon juice. The guy at the counter told me that for future references, radish sauce would taste great with the salmon, but not mix well with the Philadelphia cheese. I said: "I will certainly check this out, as I want to try every sandwich in this shop. Well, not all at the same time of course." It was a good enough punch line to make them laugh. And it is a good enough punch line to be classified as a great unknown line. The guy told me afterwards: "You are most welcome to do this, we won't complain sir!".

That is one thing that struck me this time actually: being called "Sir". I mean I used to be called "sir" by kids at school, but this is different to be called like this by a grown up man. When I was a student in Montreal, I used to go and have my Friday lunch (after my class of medieval literature) at the Binerie Mont-Royal. It was then my Friday treat: pea soup, meatball stew or trout or vols-au-vent with salmon béchamel sauce for main and trifle for dessert. And the owner used to call me "jeune homme" (young man). Now I am called "sir" by men who are probably older than me. Still, I feel like a kid in a candy store when I buy myself a Friday treat. And I will go back to try as many different variations of sandwiches as I can.