Today's sandwich finds me far beyond the normal realms of hunger. It is Sunday, Father's Day to be precise, and whilst I should be enjoying a family roast dinner with my father, that is quite difficult as he lives in the Caribbean. Today I instead channelled my energies into exercise, and after cardio and weights in the gym decided I was in the mood for a run. Foolishly, I decided to exceed my target of running over the Chelsea Bridge by adding another bridge into the mix which surpasses my running abilities at this time. I feel a broken shell of my usual self and hunger is stabbing at my stomach unforgivingly.
As such I picked up a sandwich in my Sainsbury's local along with my dinner, an apertif of sorts to the carbohydrate apocalypse about to befall my deserving being. Sandiwches - what better ally in the face of physical brokenness. A satisfying treat for the soul when immediate sustenance is needed without the time to cook a full meal. The Be Good To Yourself Egg & Cress (on wheatgerm bread) is brightly decorated and appears to be well-filled, which made it an obvious choice. Last week's disappointment in Sainsbury's filling has been well documented (and Sainsbury's customer service team are now are via the majestic medium of Twitter), I am hopeful this episode will not be a repeat of the misleading filling witchery.
First bite is average, the bread feels a little soggy and stale but this is no cause to knock marks off - being a Sunday, there are less hungry workers to pick up sandwiches and as such keep in-store sandwich turnover high and the sandwiches immediately fresh. It is also later than one would usually consume - way past normal lunch-hour. The bread becomes more pleasent a bit further in to the sandwich, with a wholesome aroma one would expect of wheatgerm bread. The egg and cress itself is pleasing - a mousse-like, gentle texture not too overdone with mayonnaise - easily bothed in many a sandwich, which detracts from the main event - the eggy flavour.
Unfortunately what we do find here is a similar problem of underfilling - leaving the consumer far too focused on the bread during the sandwich experience, as opposed to the soft, moist filling. If we think of sandwiches as a great work of art (and quite rightly so), the bread must act as background canvas. It is there to support the beauty in the centre, and certainly should contribute to the overall success of the piece's visual effect, but one does not simply want to stare at a canvas alone. This sandwich would almost entirely be an empty canvas with little to no egg & cress impact on the overall sandwich experience. I cannot help but feel that part of this may be due to the fact that it is afterall, a 'Be Good To Yourself' offering. I for one am of the adamant belief that little good comes from low-fat anything, and that fat is an important part of our diet. Fat offers the heart and soul to a dish, and here is rare statement that can be proven quite literally with - "the proof is in the pudding".
Thus, our most recent sandwich experience can be described in 2 ways: firstly, for a mere 276kcal, I had a sandwich which took the edge of my hunger, for only 9% of my daily fat intake. It was alright. Secondly; I wasted 276kcal which gave me no joy, when for a 500kcal+ sandwich I could have had a hearty and happy snack before enjoying an even more fattening meal, because I hash-tag earned it. I chose to follow the latter, and it is for these reasons I award the Sainsbury's Be Good To Yourself Egg & Cress sandwich a Sandwich Experience Score of 28.125%. For a full data breakdown, please see below or contact sandwichgenius32@hotmail.com for further analysis.
Experience: 3/17
Branding: 2/3
Content: 1/4
Ingredients: 1/3
Appearance: 2/5
Sunday, 21 June 2015
Thursday, 18 June 2015
Sandwich #7: Sainsbury's Lemon & Herb Roast Chicken Salad
You may have read of my lament yesterday that there is no easily-accessible Sainsbury's from my office, and that this had prevented me yesterday from getting my hungry hands on the Sainsbury's Taste The Difference Lemon & Herb Roast Chicken Salad (on multiseed batch bread). Today I awoke with the realisation that obstables are really a mind set, and those that seeks solutions instead of gleefully festering in their problems, must surely climb to the top of the pile in this evolving challenge that is city life. In such spirit, I picked up my Sainsbury's Taste The Difference Lemon & Herb Roast Chicken Salad en route to the tube in the morning, conveniently located just opposite Clapham North station. It survived the inevitable morning journey in to town, a voyage which can only be described as a "bum rush" due to the seemingly unending supply of commuters - most of which appear to have not a thought in their head when it comes to moving down the carriage. True to form, I sought the solution this morning - and found a rap on the window and sharp gesture is instrumental in getting these clowns to move down inside the carriage.
Now on lunch in my thankfully not so crowded office, the Taste The Difference Lemon & Herb Roast Chicken Salad sandwich lies before me, awaiting my review. The appearence of this sandwich is immediately striking, with a comforting brown toned-bread encasing an abundance of salad and chicken, with what promises to be a joyful amount of mayo lapping at the crust like a gentle tide. As I pick up the sandwich, I am surprised by how fragile and soft the bread seems, almost how one would imagine a butterfly wing to feel should it be used as chicken-containing apparatus - I am concerned it will fall apart at the touch. Wonderfully, the taste comes over correspondingly gentle, delicate lemon notes rising up from the mayonnaise and chickeny interior. Spell-check is here telling me 'chickeny' is not a word, and I sorrow for spell-check being so woefully misinformed here, for it will never have the privilege of eating such a chickeny-tasting sandwich.
Another bite through the centre and I am enamoured - the crunch of the salad is absolutely fantastic, with this marvellously moist mixture of chicken and mayonnaise complimenting the multiseed batch bread to a tee. But Sainsbury's, what is this! Another bite in, we approach the crust, and the filling miraculously vanishes. I am left with just bread and salad for the remainder of the sandwich, not a scrap of chicken in sight. Some mayonnaise has spilled out towards the corner of the sandwich, taunting me of the chicken that could have been.
There has quite clearly been some trickery at work here from the team behind crafting the Sainsbury's Taste The Difference Lemon & Herb Roast Chicken Salad. They have been engineered to look superficially lustrous and full, with the poor unsuspecting eater to only find that filling is entirely lacking towards the end of the sandwich. This is a sly tactic to save costs, I assume. I will be tweeting my findings to Sainsbury's shortly - have a look @Sandwichfan32 - if you can "handle" it (the twitter-proficient among you will see that was in fact a saucy pun).
Indeed, the second half of this sandwich was entirely the same experience, a fantastic first couple of bites followed by the crushing anti-climax of a bread-based finish. Really very tragic as there is so much potential in this Sainsbury's Taste The Difference Lemon & Herb Roast Chicken Salad - intensely fresh salad, juicy chicken pieces, perfect accents of lemon and herb, and an exciting textural accompaniment in the form of this multiseed batch bread. Importantly, the bread does lose marks for its flimsy demeanour - if the bread was a person, it would be your ever-attractive friend who is a fantastic companion when you see them, but it is always a question as to whether they will actually turn up to social events, or flake at the last minute. Disappoingly, for a sandwich which truly had the potential to be in the highest percentile, I must accordingly award the Sainsbury's Lemon & Herb Roast Chicken Salad (on multiseed batch bread) a Sandwich Experience Score of 56.25%. For a full data breakdown, please see below. Feel free to send any comments, questions, or court case summons to sandwichgenius32@hotmail.com
Experience: 5/17
Branding: 3/3
Content: 2/4
Ingredients: 3/3
Appearance: 5/5
Now on lunch in my thankfully not so crowded office, the Taste The Difference Lemon & Herb Roast Chicken Salad sandwich lies before me, awaiting my review. The appearence of this sandwich is immediately striking, with a comforting brown toned-bread encasing an abundance of salad and chicken, with what promises to be a joyful amount of mayo lapping at the crust like a gentle tide. As I pick up the sandwich, I am surprised by how fragile and soft the bread seems, almost how one would imagine a butterfly wing to feel should it be used as chicken-containing apparatus - I am concerned it will fall apart at the touch. Wonderfully, the taste comes over correspondingly gentle, delicate lemon notes rising up from the mayonnaise and chickeny interior. Spell-check is here telling me 'chickeny' is not a word, and I sorrow for spell-check being so woefully misinformed here, for it will never have the privilege of eating such a chickeny-tasting sandwich.
Another bite through the centre and I am enamoured - the crunch of the salad is absolutely fantastic, with this marvellously moist mixture of chicken and mayonnaise complimenting the multiseed batch bread to a tee. But Sainsbury's, what is this! Another bite in, we approach the crust, and the filling miraculously vanishes. I am left with just bread and salad for the remainder of the sandwich, not a scrap of chicken in sight. Some mayonnaise has spilled out towards the corner of the sandwich, taunting me of the chicken that could have been.
There has quite clearly been some trickery at work here from the team behind crafting the Sainsbury's Taste The Difference Lemon & Herb Roast Chicken Salad. They have been engineered to look superficially lustrous and full, with the poor unsuspecting eater to only find that filling is entirely lacking towards the end of the sandwich. This is a sly tactic to save costs, I assume. I will be tweeting my findings to Sainsbury's shortly - have a look @Sandwichfan32 - if you can "handle" it (the twitter-proficient among you will see that was in fact a saucy pun).
Indeed, the second half of this sandwich was entirely the same experience, a fantastic first couple of bites followed by the crushing anti-climax of a bread-based finish. Really very tragic as there is so much potential in this Sainsbury's Taste The Difference Lemon & Herb Roast Chicken Salad - intensely fresh salad, juicy chicken pieces, perfect accents of lemon and herb, and an exciting textural accompaniment in the form of this multiseed batch bread. Importantly, the bread does lose marks for its flimsy demeanour - if the bread was a person, it would be your ever-attractive friend who is a fantastic companion when you see them, but it is always a question as to whether they will actually turn up to social events, or flake at the last minute. Disappoingly, for a sandwich which truly had the potential to be in the highest percentile, I must accordingly award the Sainsbury's Lemon & Herb Roast Chicken Salad (on multiseed batch bread) a Sandwich Experience Score of 56.25%. For a full data breakdown, please see below. Feel free to send any comments, questions, or court case summons to sandwichgenius32@hotmail.com
Experience: 5/17
Branding: 3/3
Content: 2/4
Ingredients: 3/3
Appearance: 5/5
Wednesday, 17 June 2015
Sandwich #6: EAT's Chicken Bacon & Avocado Baguette
After some light-hearted 'banter' with the marketing team behind the Sainsbury's twitter account following my review of their Taste The Difference Ham Hock sandwich (or 'TTD', as I believe it is referred to by these tech whizz-kidds), I was keen to today try their TTD Herb and Chicken offering. One must at this point give a shout out to my worthy twittersphere adversaries - Chris and Bobby. It is however a greek tragedy that this blogger, despite being located in Central London during the working week, has no easily-accessible Sainsbury's from the office. It would literally be easier for me to buy diamonds than to get my hands on a TTD Herb and Chicken sandwich come lunch hour. It is for these reasons that today I review my first EAT sandwich, the EAT store I reference being conveniently located on Piccadilly.
The EAT experience cannot help but feel somewhat bargain-basement; the decor and general atmosphere being somewhat cheap and cheerful. The sandwiches are disappointingly displayed in a poor manner; the sparse survivors of the lunch-hour rush spread across a joyless counter, all with somewhat bare and unappealing packaging. Perhaps this is my misinterpretation, and in fact the minimalistic, almost Scandinavian approach they are going for is just lost on me. Ten points for the entirely friendly staff however. I selected their 'Chicken Bacon & Avocado' baguette, which was mine for the cost of £3.65. It can be something of a heartache to be invoiced this much excluding a beverage or snack of some form, once one has become accustomed to a £3.00 meal deal from those most sincere of grocers, Sainsbury's and Tesco. We must be aware however, that EAT is a coffee shop, and as such is not at liberty to offer these deals - a coffee shop is not afforded the same enviable economies of scale as a superstore.
SO, onto the 'Chicken Bacon & Avocado' baguette. One point of immediate note is that the aroma from this particular bread-based ally has been tantalisingly wafting under my nose whilst writing these words, despite still being packaged. Hats off to the ingredients, for being able to offer such a bold scent whilst still captive inside their plastic prison. The design loses a point for having a piece of chicken immediately escape and flop on the floor as I unwrap - clearly this sandwich is a renegade, the scent and content of which cannot be chained.
Now onto the good stuff - and 'good stuff' would be an apt description of my first hit of taste. Decent baguette with a fair crunch, avocado which tastes exactly like avocado does, and bacon which is perfectly bacon-esque. The chicken hits a score slightly above average for having a nice amount of juciness to it - there is nothing worse than dry, dehydrated meat in a sandwich. Overall, there is nothing distinct about the flavour to this lunchtime friend, all the components of the baguette hit 'satisfactory' to 'above average' marks for their individual contributions. The mayonnaise, which can be the perfect accomplice to any crafter of a sandwich seeking to achieve a flavoursome twist, tasted not unlike a mayonnaise one would purchase from a supermarket - Iceland's own brand, perhaps.
A few more bites in and I reflected on the poignancy of this conclusion. The ingredients - satisfactory alone. YET, there was an above-satisfaction sensation stirring in my soul once I had consumed the majority of the baguette - that can only point to the strength of the baguette lying in the overall impact of its individual components coming together with each bite. Perhaps, as it is Wednesday and I am fresh from our weekly team meeting, it was inevitable I would draw an analogy to a business. But I was overwhelmed by thoughts of how this baguette was like a well-functioning team within a business - perhaps just average together, yet undoubtedly strong when working as part of a team. This baguette reminded me of my reliance, and indeed all of our reliances, on others from which we draw strength, foster innovation, succeed, fall, rise once more and find our purpose. As a side note, towards the end of the baguette, the chicken seemed marginally dryer.
Realisations on the crucial nature on teamwork within businesses aside, I was impressed by how full I was after a baguette which seemed the wrong side of modest upon purchase. There can be no faults given to any of the ingredients, aside from being somewhat plain and uninspiring. All in all, however, the culinary team at EAT have here put together a 'Chicken Bacon & Avocado' baguette which delivers exactly that, the fill of which providing enough calorific content to fuel a day at work assisting with our country's economic recovery. For these reasons, I award the EAT 'Chicken, Avocado & Bacon' baguette a Sanwich Experience Score of 59.375%. For a full data breakdown, please see below.
Experience: 11/17
Branding: 1/3
Content: 2/4
Ingredients: 2/3
Appearance: 3/5
NOTE: If you too have consumed an EAT 'Chicken Bacon & Avocado' baguette, and wish to contest any of the above scores, comments are grateully recieved to sandwichgenius32@hotmail.com
The EAT experience cannot help but feel somewhat bargain-basement; the decor and general atmosphere being somewhat cheap and cheerful. The sandwiches are disappointingly displayed in a poor manner; the sparse survivors of the lunch-hour rush spread across a joyless counter, all with somewhat bare and unappealing packaging. Perhaps this is my misinterpretation, and in fact the minimalistic, almost Scandinavian approach they are going for is just lost on me. Ten points for the entirely friendly staff however. I selected their 'Chicken Bacon & Avocado' baguette, which was mine for the cost of £3.65. It can be something of a heartache to be invoiced this much excluding a beverage or snack of some form, once one has become accustomed to a £3.00 meal deal from those most sincere of grocers, Sainsbury's and Tesco. We must be aware however, that EAT is a coffee shop, and as such is not at liberty to offer these deals - a coffee shop is not afforded the same enviable economies of scale as a superstore.
SO, onto the 'Chicken Bacon & Avocado' baguette. One point of immediate note is that the aroma from this particular bread-based ally has been tantalisingly wafting under my nose whilst writing these words, despite still being packaged. Hats off to the ingredients, for being able to offer such a bold scent whilst still captive inside their plastic prison. The design loses a point for having a piece of chicken immediately escape and flop on the floor as I unwrap - clearly this sandwich is a renegade, the scent and content of which cannot be chained.
Now onto the good stuff - and 'good stuff' would be an apt description of my first hit of taste. Decent baguette with a fair crunch, avocado which tastes exactly like avocado does, and bacon which is perfectly bacon-esque. The chicken hits a score slightly above average for having a nice amount of juciness to it - there is nothing worse than dry, dehydrated meat in a sandwich. Overall, there is nothing distinct about the flavour to this lunchtime friend, all the components of the baguette hit 'satisfactory' to 'above average' marks for their individual contributions. The mayonnaise, which can be the perfect accomplice to any crafter of a sandwich seeking to achieve a flavoursome twist, tasted not unlike a mayonnaise one would purchase from a supermarket - Iceland's own brand, perhaps.
A few more bites in and I reflected on the poignancy of this conclusion. The ingredients - satisfactory alone. YET, there was an above-satisfaction sensation stirring in my soul once I had consumed the majority of the baguette - that can only point to the strength of the baguette lying in the overall impact of its individual components coming together with each bite. Perhaps, as it is Wednesday and I am fresh from our weekly team meeting, it was inevitable I would draw an analogy to a business. But I was overwhelmed by thoughts of how this baguette was like a well-functioning team within a business - perhaps just average together, yet undoubtedly strong when working as part of a team. This baguette reminded me of my reliance, and indeed all of our reliances, on others from which we draw strength, foster innovation, succeed, fall, rise once more and find our purpose. As a side note, towards the end of the baguette, the chicken seemed marginally dryer.
Realisations on the crucial nature on teamwork within businesses aside, I was impressed by how full I was after a baguette which seemed the wrong side of modest upon purchase. There can be no faults given to any of the ingredients, aside from being somewhat plain and uninspiring. All in all, however, the culinary team at EAT have here put together a 'Chicken Bacon & Avocado' baguette which delivers exactly that, the fill of which providing enough calorific content to fuel a day at work assisting with our country's economic recovery. For these reasons, I award the EAT 'Chicken, Avocado & Bacon' baguette a Sanwich Experience Score of 59.375%. For a full data breakdown, please see below.
Experience: 11/17
Branding: 1/3
Content: 2/4
Ingredients: 2/3
Appearance: 3/5
NOTE: If you too have consumed an EAT 'Chicken Bacon & Avocado' baguette, and wish to contest any of the above scores, comments are grateully recieved to sandwichgenius32@hotmail.com
Tuesday, 16 June 2015
Sandwich #5: Marks and Spencer's Club
I have high hopes for today's sandwich, The Club (on toasted oatmeal bread) bought to us by our friends at Marks & Spencer - creators of the alluring TV adverts which temptingly tease "this isn't just food... this is Marks & Spencer's food", along with other retail-based pursuits like that skirt worn recently by the likes of Alexa Chung which subsequently had bloggers in a frenzy. I travelled today to the Marks & Spencer store along Piccadilly for my sandwich, which in itself was worthy of note for the unholy amount of pedestrian traffic. The ordeal didn't stop there; the store in question has its weary patrons travel down a narrow and curved flight of stairs, dodging American tourists and haughty business men, just to reach the sandwich and 'food on the go' section. Surely food on the go should deserve a more easily accessed location for it's consumers? The sandwich counters are then split in two, sandwiches divided by no logical algorithm that I was able to identify.
The Club itself stood proudly on a top shelf looking down on me, giving allusions of superiority early doors which I could not resist. After a similarly tiring queueing experience, for £3.25 I was the owner of The Club, and it's proud proclamation of 'toasted oatmeal bread'. Back in the office, I was immediately pleased by the weight and volume of sandwich as I pulled it from my hand - it is my strong opinion that more sandwiches should follow the club blueprint of bread:filling:bread:filling:bread for each half, as opposed to the more common bread:filling:bread. Here is a sandwich for a working woman, a sandwich that is willing to pour forth the carbs I so crave halfway through a day working to hasten our country's economic recovery!
The first bite was also most pleasing, with moisture immediately apparent as one of this sandwiches main strengths. Chicken, cucumber, tomato, cheese and a welcome quantity of mayonnaise filled my mouth, with a daring peppery kick, the origin of which I could not quite place. Bites two and three, and, MY WORD, this is not your standard supermarket sandwich. So much chicken! So much bacon! The cheese, layered with mayo, layered with salad, this sandwich! This Club sandwich is here to hug my mouth, here to cheer my day, here to nourish and sustain me for an afternoon of interval data analysis and conference calls. The Club sandwich is my ally in this crowded, crazy City. As a note - the bacon in this sandwich was somewhat scant; I felt for part of the Sandwich Experience it would be fitting to display posters asking for information of its whereabouts.
I was impressed by the structural integrity of the Club - refusing to scatter ingredients as I enthusiastically tucked in. Whilst I do not want to advertise details of my table manners on a public domain, my mother has once told me that if I go on a first date to a restaurant with a new beau, there is unlikely to be a second date. So that gives some indication of how I like to enjoy my food. The Club held fast, adamant it would stay looking picture-perfect up until the last hurdle of crust. I felt I typed too soon around the bacon at one point, for a clump of it appeared in the midst of the second half, filling the throat with that familiar salty-pig scent. Unfortunately the bacon was a little gristle-heavy, and so loses marks (for an excellent example of perfect bacon-creation, see my review of the Tesco BLT). There was also an interesting flavour for one bite of the second half that can only be described as 'unpleasently earthy' which may have related to one or more of the salad ingredients, I didn't panic as this soon passed.
I have noticed whilst writing these blogs that the second-half review of my sandwiches inevitably seem to shine a less flattering light on my sandwich friends. Perhaps this is down to my enthusiasm for the first half inflating my opinion of the sandwich to the point where the second half can only be something of a disappointment. Perhaps the higher the pedestal, the harder the fall. I promise this, sandwich friends, no! more! fallen! idols! From here on out I will be as objective and fastidious on my taste reviews of the second-half of the sandwich as I am the first. Sandwiches, I am a scientist, as well as a lover.
To conclude, the strengths of this sandwich were undoubtedly the hearty content, the slightly scandalous nature of the persistent peppery kick, and the sandwich's heroic refusal to move from its uniform ratio or spill its filling during any point of the feeding frenzy. It was also entirely pleasing to look at, a very neat sandwich, and the toasted oatmeal bread added a pleasent rough texture to the tongue. For these reasons I award the Marks & Spencer Club a Sanwich Experience Score of 73.4375. For a full data breakdown, please see below.
Experience: 13/17
Branding: 2/3
Content: 3/4
Ingredients: 2/3
Appearence: 3.5/5
The Club itself stood proudly on a top shelf looking down on me, giving allusions of superiority early doors which I could not resist. After a similarly tiring queueing experience, for £3.25 I was the owner of The Club, and it's proud proclamation of 'toasted oatmeal bread'. Back in the office, I was immediately pleased by the weight and volume of sandwich as I pulled it from my hand - it is my strong opinion that more sandwiches should follow the club blueprint of bread:filling:bread:filling:bread for each half, as opposed to the more common bread:filling:bread. Here is a sandwich for a working woman, a sandwich that is willing to pour forth the carbs I so crave halfway through a day working to hasten our country's economic recovery!
The first bite was also most pleasing, with moisture immediately apparent as one of this sandwiches main strengths. Chicken, cucumber, tomato, cheese and a welcome quantity of mayonnaise filled my mouth, with a daring peppery kick, the origin of which I could not quite place. Bites two and three, and, MY WORD, this is not your standard supermarket sandwich. So much chicken! So much bacon! The cheese, layered with mayo, layered with salad, this sandwich! This Club sandwich is here to hug my mouth, here to cheer my day, here to nourish and sustain me for an afternoon of interval data analysis and conference calls. The Club sandwich is my ally in this crowded, crazy City. As a note - the bacon in this sandwich was somewhat scant; I felt for part of the Sandwich Experience it would be fitting to display posters asking for information of its whereabouts.
I was impressed by the structural integrity of the Club - refusing to scatter ingredients as I enthusiastically tucked in. Whilst I do not want to advertise details of my table manners on a public domain, my mother has once told me that if I go on a first date to a restaurant with a new beau, there is unlikely to be a second date. So that gives some indication of how I like to enjoy my food. The Club held fast, adamant it would stay looking picture-perfect up until the last hurdle of crust. I felt I typed too soon around the bacon at one point, for a clump of it appeared in the midst of the second half, filling the throat with that familiar salty-pig scent. Unfortunately the bacon was a little gristle-heavy, and so loses marks (for an excellent example of perfect bacon-creation, see my review of the Tesco BLT). There was also an interesting flavour for one bite of the second half that can only be described as 'unpleasently earthy' which may have related to one or more of the salad ingredients, I didn't panic as this soon passed.
I have noticed whilst writing these blogs that the second-half review of my sandwiches inevitably seem to shine a less flattering light on my sandwich friends. Perhaps this is down to my enthusiasm for the first half inflating my opinion of the sandwich to the point where the second half can only be something of a disappointment. Perhaps the higher the pedestal, the harder the fall. I promise this, sandwich friends, no! more! fallen! idols! From here on out I will be as objective and fastidious on my taste reviews of the second-half of the sandwich as I am the first. Sandwiches, I am a scientist, as well as a lover.
To conclude, the strengths of this sandwich were undoubtedly the hearty content, the slightly scandalous nature of the persistent peppery kick, and the sandwich's heroic refusal to move from its uniform ratio or spill its filling during any point of the feeding frenzy. It was also entirely pleasing to look at, a very neat sandwich, and the toasted oatmeal bread added a pleasent rough texture to the tongue. For these reasons I award the Marks & Spencer Club a Sanwich Experience Score of 73.4375. For a full data breakdown, please see below.
Experience: 13/17
Branding: 2/3
Content: 3/4
Ingredients: 2/3
Appearence: 3.5/5
Monday, 15 June 2015
Sandwich #4: Sainsbuy's Taste the Difference Ham Hock & Extra Mature Cheddar Cheese
Sainsbury's - that bastion of British supermarketery - gounded in 1869 by one John James Sainsbury, if Wikipedia can be believed. More recently making news for losing market share, along with old nemises Tesco and Asda, to the vigorous uprising of younger upstarts Lidl and Aldi. More on them in later posts, I suspect. Today I visited Sainsbury's whilst walking from Chancery Lane back to my Regent Street office, through one of my most sacred London stops - Charing Cross. Perhaps it was the miriad of memories stirring through my mind as I stopped made my trip in an area I know and love so well, but walking to the sandwich counter I knew I was in for a special sandwich experience this day.
I selected the Tast the Difference Ham Hock & Extra Mature Cheddar Cheese today, it is a sunny day, and perhaps I was in the kind of mood one would associate with a picnic, and that could explain why I found the bag-like packaging so alluring. Ham Hock! What is Ham Hock? I wondered. A quick Google search informs me the hock of a ham refers to the calf or ankle region, and can be tender and fat-free. I have always been partial to ham-based sandwiches, and was intrigued that Sainsbury's had left ay immediate advertising of mustard either elusive or entirely absent. Mustard I feel is the perfect accomplice and indeed lover to ham within a sandwich.
I walked back to the office eager to start this mysterious beauty, and start writing my blog. I was entirely not dissapointed. The bread, grainy and soft to the touch, a pleasing light brown colour with freckles one would expect from a 'multiseed farmhouse batch bread', immediately satisfied the senses. The first bite and the flavour explodes onto my tongue, the perfectly matured cheddar, with sweet notes of the chutney shining through, and an earthy, salty ham with wonderfully shredded texture.
The texture of this sandwich cannot be amphasised enough - it is a masterclass of how to please the inside of a mouth. My teeth sunk through the farmhouse bread, crunching pleasingly against lettuce before moving into the firm cheese and ham like a war-fatigued hero arriving home to sink down into bed. A bed made of ham hock & extra mature cheese. Unfortunately, there is a slight points loss for the last half of the sandwich whereby unfortunate crafstanship left one bite almost entirely pickle, with the distribution of ham, cheddar and lettuce clearly focused elsewhere. However working the other way to regain said points was the mayonnaise that was sporadically distributed throughout the sandwich, allowing for an unexpected moistener on the occasional bite.
Overall, this is one of the finest sandwiches I have tasted in a supermarket - it is worthy of serving on a china plate in an upmarket eaterie. As a note, it was included with my choice of crisps and a drink (McCoys salt & vinegar, and a tropicana orange and raspberry juice, would recommend as the sweet and tart juice added a je ne sais quoi) for a sensaional £3.00 - retail price without the meal deal was £4.95!! For these reasons, I award this champion of a sandwich a Sandwich Experience Score of 87.5%. For a full data breakdown, please see below.
Experience: 15/17
Branding: 3/3
Content: 3/4
Ingredients: 3/3
Appearence: 4/5
I selected the Tast the Difference Ham Hock & Extra Mature Cheddar Cheese today, it is a sunny day, and perhaps I was in the kind of mood one would associate with a picnic, and that could explain why I found the bag-like packaging so alluring. Ham Hock! What is Ham Hock? I wondered. A quick Google search informs me the hock of a ham refers to the calf or ankle region, and can be tender and fat-free. I have always been partial to ham-based sandwiches, and was intrigued that Sainsbury's had left ay immediate advertising of mustard either elusive or entirely absent. Mustard I feel is the perfect accomplice and indeed lover to ham within a sandwich.
I walked back to the office eager to start this mysterious beauty, and start writing my blog. I was entirely not dissapointed. The bread, grainy and soft to the touch, a pleasing light brown colour with freckles one would expect from a 'multiseed farmhouse batch bread', immediately satisfied the senses. The first bite and the flavour explodes onto my tongue, the perfectly matured cheddar, with sweet notes of the chutney shining through, and an earthy, salty ham with wonderfully shredded texture.
The texture of this sandwich cannot be amphasised enough - it is a masterclass of how to please the inside of a mouth. My teeth sunk through the farmhouse bread, crunching pleasingly against lettuce before moving into the firm cheese and ham like a war-fatigued hero arriving home to sink down into bed. A bed made of ham hock & extra mature cheese. Unfortunately, there is a slight points loss for the last half of the sandwich whereby unfortunate crafstanship left one bite almost entirely pickle, with the distribution of ham, cheddar and lettuce clearly focused elsewhere. However working the other way to regain said points was the mayonnaise that was sporadically distributed throughout the sandwich, allowing for an unexpected moistener on the occasional bite.
Overall, this is one of the finest sandwiches I have tasted in a supermarket - it is worthy of serving on a china plate in an upmarket eaterie. As a note, it was included with my choice of crisps and a drink (McCoys salt & vinegar, and a tropicana orange and raspberry juice, would recommend as the sweet and tart juice added a je ne sais quoi) for a sensaional £3.00 - retail price without the meal deal was £4.95!! For these reasons, I award this champion of a sandwich a Sandwich Experience Score of 87.5%. For a full data breakdown, please see below.
Experience: 15/17
Branding: 3/3
Content: 3/4
Ingredients: 3/3
Appearence: 4/5
Friday, 12 June 2015
Sandwich #3: The Tesco BLT
Sandwich fans, today I forayed once more into the depths of Tesco for today's choice of bread-based friend. Two Tesco posts in three days! You cry. Fridays are a particuarly strong day for my job and as such I was unwilling to travel further than the 100m to my local Tesco for lunch. I shall diversify into another high-street supermarket for the next review, fear not.
I felt it only fitting to choose the 'Tesco BLT' today, after responding to a saucy little note on the twittersphere last night that if I were to date a sandwich, it would potentially be the BLT - they are a solid choice with a proven combination of ingredients. The variation of quality however can be remarkable. The 'Tesco BLT' is on a brown, grained bread - which I immediately applaud, and appears to unashamedly focus on the 'B' within the 'BLT', which again should be applauded - the ratio should always hang to the side of bacon and not overpower with lettuce and tomato.
Upon first bite, the saltiness struck me immediately - and I was also suprised to find the bread condensed upon the grasp of my hand to become rather thin and unappealing. A thicker cut of bread would certainly be more appealing to the finger's well-honed senses. Indeed, upon eating to the last corner of the first half and having just a mouthful of bread to devour, the taste proved similarly unsatisfying - for a brown grain bread there should have been more of a bang for my buck.
The bacon itself could hardly be faulted - salty, well cooked and pleasantly dark in some sections, and most importantly - free of gristle. There is always the risk when choosing a BLT that the sandwich experience will prove to be little more than a mouth-maze of dodging odd chunks of gristle, which leaves both the sandwich and connoissuer in a mess. This was certainly not the case with Tesco's effort, which I commend most highly. Interestingly, there was very little salad within the sandwich - a couple of scattered leaves and slices of tomato - perhaps more appropriate advertising would have been 'Tesco B Sandwich - with hints of L and T'. I imagine this would not be thought of too highly by their marketing department, but nonetheless, I will tweet them later.
Overall, this was an entirely pleasent sandwich experience, the lack of L and T made up for by above-average B. Points for improvement would include more mayonnaise (very flavoursome once located!) and thicker bread, along with vastly increasing the quantity of L and T. For these reasons, the 'Tesco BLT' is awarded a Sandwich Experience score of 62.5%. For a full data breakdown, please see below. To contest this score with comments on your own Tesco BLT experience, please email sandwichgenius32@hotmail.com
Experience: 10/17
Branding: 2/3
Content: 2/4
Ingredients: 2/3
Appearence: 4/5
I felt it only fitting to choose the 'Tesco BLT' today, after responding to a saucy little note on the twittersphere last night that if I were to date a sandwich, it would potentially be the BLT - they are a solid choice with a proven combination of ingredients. The variation of quality however can be remarkable. The 'Tesco BLT' is on a brown, grained bread - which I immediately applaud, and appears to unashamedly focus on the 'B' within the 'BLT', which again should be applauded - the ratio should always hang to the side of bacon and not overpower with lettuce and tomato.
Upon first bite, the saltiness struck me immediately - and I was also suprised to find the bread condensed upon the grasp of my hand to become rather thin and unappealing. A thicker cut of bread would certainly be more appealing to the finger's well-honed senses. Indeed, upon eating to the last corner of the first half and having just a mouthful of bread to devour, the taste proved similarly unsatisfying - for a brown grain bread there should have been more of a bang for my buck.
The bacon itself could hardly be faulted - salty, well cooked and pleasantly dark in some sections, and most importantly - free of gristle. There is always the risk when choosing a BLT that the sandwich experience will prove to be little more than a mouth-maze of dodging odd chunks of gristle, which leaves both the sandwich and connoissuer in a mess. This was certainly not the case with Tesco's effort, which I commend most highly. Interestingly, there was very little salad within the sandwich - a couple of scattered leaves and slices of tomato - perhaps more appropriate advertising would have been 'Tesco B Sandwich - with hints of L and T'. I imagine this would not be thought of too highly by their marketing department, but nonetheless, I will tweet them later.
Overall, this was an entirely pleasent sandwich experience, the lack of L and T made up for by above-average B. Points for improvement would include more mayonnaise (very flavoursome once located!) and thicker bread, along with vastly increasing the quantity of L and T. For these reasons, the 'Tesco BLT' is awarded a Sandwich Experience score of 62.5%. For a full data breakdown, please see below. To contest this score with comments on your own Tesco BLT experience, please email sandwichgenius32@hotmail.com
Experience: 10/17
Branding: 2/3
Content: 2/4
Ingredients: 2/3
Appearence: 4/5
Thursday, 11 June 2015
Sandwich #2: The Greggs Prawn Mayonnaise Baguette
Today's exploration in the world of fine sandwichery took me to the doors of one of the finest high street establishments I can name when speaking of baked or bread-based goods - Greggs. Greggs is a favourite for many reasons, the most prominent of which is their Chicken Bake. The Chicken Bake is chicken gravy heaven encased in crisp, sweet, sharp pastry - its flavour, warmth and sweetness transcend the physical realms of just taste and in fact resonate with me more on a spiritual level. It can only be described as transcendently delicious; my appetite for the Chicken Bake is simply insatiable. It is also excellent for hangovers. But this is not a blog for Greggs' Chicken Bakes, no no, this is a sandwich blog, and as such, this leads me to the sandwich of today.
There was not an extensive selection of sandwiches on offer today in my local Greggs, nontheless selecting today's victim was an effortous affair due to the charming way in which the sandwiches were displayed, encased in an orange light. I eventually went for the Prawn Mayonnaise Baguette; the prawns appeared to be so large I was almost surprised they didn't swim away as my hand approached the packaging. Greggs wins points here in the shopping experience, as the till man was both polite and keen to hear how my day had been so far (much better now the weather is on the up, thanks for asking).
Upon arriving back to the office, I started on my Prawn Mayonnaise Baguette (note: accompanied by a Dr. Pepper), and was welcomed by the distinct scent of freshly baked Greggs bread after tearing open the wrapper. All of their sandwiches are created in store, and for a very modest price - my baguette didn't set me back £2.00. Great presentation - very neat and a nice mix of green leaves, white mayonnaise, and pink prawns. The baguette had a soft, mellow taste which is entirely pleasent, but I couldn't help but feel a bit more pepper would have perfected the overall experience perfectly.
The salad ratio to prawn mayonnaise was excellent, and left my mouth perfectly satisfied for each texture upon every bite - which really is no easy feat in my experience. It is astonishing how many major supermarkets, for instance, will leave the corners of sandwiches or baguettes woefully underfilled (see yesterday's Tuna Nicoise post for further detail). Another point of note was the mayonnaise - it had a slight tang that suggests being mixed with some sort of salad cream, a welcome flavour to the prawn party. The prawns themselves were the real standout feature of the baguette for me, every one as large and succulent as they had appeared in the shop. The superb volume of this salty sea meat, encased in that one of a kind Greggs doughy deliciousness makes this baguette a serious contender for me. It is slightly let down by its need for a pepper kick, leaving it a fair shade blander than it should be, but nonetheless stands in the 'very good' category in terms of overall experience and value for money. We may be coming out of the recession, that is no need to take a focus away from value for money! For the reasons listed above, the Greggs Prawn Mayonnaise Baguette is awarded a Sandwich Experience Score of 81.25%. For a full data breakdown, please see below:
Experience: 15/17
Branding: 2/3
Content: 3/4
Ingredients: 3/3
Appearence: 3/5
There was not an extensive selection of sandwiches on offer today in my local Greggs, nontheless selecting today's victim was an effortous affair due to the charming way in which the sandwiches were displayed, encased in an orange light. I eventually went for the Prawn Mayonnaise Baguette; the prawns appeared to be so large I was almost surprised they didn't swim away as my hand approached the packaging. Greggs wins points here in the shopping experience, as the till man was both polite and keen to hear how my day had been so far (much better now the weather is on the up, thanks for asking).
Upon arriving back to the office, I started on my Prawn Mayonnaise Baguette (note: accompanied by a Dr. Pepper), and was welcomed by the distinct scent of freshly baked Greggs bread after tearing open the wrapper. All of their sandwiches are created in store, and for a very modest price - my baguette didn't set me back £2.00. Great presentation - very neat and a nice mix of green leaves, white mayonnaise, and pink prawns. The baguette had a soft, mellow taste which is entirely pleasent, but I couldn't help but feel a bit more pepper would have perfected the overall experience perfectly.
The salad ratio to prawn mayonnaise was excellent, and left my mouth perfectly satisfied for each texture upon every bite - which really is no easy feat in my experience. It is astonishing how many major supermarkets, for instance, will leave the corners of sandwiches or baguettes woefully underfilled (see yesterday's Tuna Nicoise post for further detail). Another point of note was the mayonnaise - it had a slight tang that suggests being mixed with some sort of salad cream, a welcome flavour to the prawn party. The prawns themselves were the real standout feature of the baguette for me, every one as large and succulent as they had appeared in the shop. The superb volume of this salty sea meat, encased in that one of a kind Greggs doughy deliciousness makes this baguette a serious contender for me. It is slightly let down by its need for a pepper kick, leaving it a fair shade blander than it should be, but nonetheless stands in the 'very good' category in terms of overall experience and value for money. We may be coming out of the recession, that is no need to take a focus away from value for money! For the reasons listed above, the Greggs Prawn Mayonnaise Baguette is awarded a Sandwich Experience Score of 81.25%. For a full data breakdown, please see below:
Experience: 15/17
Branding: 2/3
Content: 3/4
Ingredients: 3/3
Appearence: 3/5
Wednesday, 10 June 2015
Reflections of a Sandwich Connoisseur
It is hard to say when my adoration of sanwiches started precisely. Sandwiches are the kind of snack that have always been a part of life - so locating the exact time you became conscious of them is a cognitive challenge for anyone. Sandwiches serve a need - your stomach is rumbling, but you have neither the time nor resource to assemble the ingredients and apparatus necessary for a meal. Instead, you buy a sandwich - which will be tasty, satisfy hunger, and best case - be an experience to remember.
Yes, locating my first sandwich experiences are difficult. My mother fondly recalls the time that, as an infant, she left me with a Glaswegian baby-sitter who happily fed me sausages against her will (she felt I was too young for solids) - and arrived at the baby-sitter's residence to find me happily toothlessly chowing-down on these sausages. Said baby-sitter's words of consolation to my mother: "Margaret, she'll ne'er learn tae chew!" I like to think this was early indication that I would get stuck in to any food-related challenge ahead of me.
I recall fondly reading Michelle Magorian's classic 'Goodnight, Mister Tom' whilst at primary school, with one scene in particular describing two of the main characters enjoying a cup of tea and jam sandwich together in war-time English countryside, and heading home with the explicit aim of creating such a feast for myself - white bread, strawberry jam, strong milky builder's tea.
Indeed, sandwiches have played a part in other forms of media - notably Father Ted (a favourite TV show of mine) - with heroine Mrs. Doyle piling an unseemly quantity of sandwiches on any visitor that passes through their Craggy Island parochial house. In Friends also - the memorable scene in which Joey believes he hears a gunshot whilst on a cop stake-out in New York, and throws himself in front of his sandwich instead of Chandler (as it transpires) to save the sandwich from gunfire.
My own, real, memories of sandwiches would go on to include; a weekend spent perfecting the grilled cheese and tuna, the first time I tried Marks & Spencer's club sandwich (more of which at a later point in this blog), the realisation of how meat SHOULD be sliced for perfect fit in a sandwich, discovery of one particular Clapham sandwich shop, and how avocado can be leveraged as a super-food alternative to traditional 'moist makers' (to reference the episode of Friends whereby Ross is incensed by sandwich theft!). All in all, dear reader, I hope this blog will be both interesting and informative, and ensure you make better sandwich choices - in turn brightening your day little by little! It's going to be a fun journey, keep in touch.
JC xxx
Yes, locating my first sandwich experiences are difficult. My mother fondly recalls the time that, as an infant, she left me with a Glaswegian baby-sitter who happily fed me sausages against her will (she felt I was too young for solids) - and arrived at the baby-sitter's residence to find me happily toothlessly chowing-down on these sausages. Said baby-sitter's words of consolation to my mother: "Margaret, she'll ne'er learn tae chew!" I like to think this was early indication that I would get stuck in to any food-related challenge ahead of me.
I recall fondly reading Michelle Magorian's classic 'Goodnight, Mister Tom' whilst at primary school, with one scene in particular describing two of the main characters enjoying a cup of tea and jam sandwich together in war-time English countryside, and heading home with the explicit aim of creating such a feast for myself - white bread, strawberry jam, strong milky builder's tea.
Indeed, sandwiches have played a part in other forms of media - notably Father Ted (a favourite TV show of mine) - with heroine Mrs. Doyle piling an unseemly quantity of sandwiches on any visitor that passes through their Craggy Island parochial house. In Friends also - the memorable scene in which Joey believes he hears a gunshot whilst on a cop stake-out in New York, and throws himself in front of his sandwich instead of Chandler (as it transpires) to save the sandwich from gunfire.
My own, real, memories of sandwiches would go on to include; a weekend spent perfecting the grilled cheese and tuna, the first time I tried Marks & Spencer's club sandwich (more of which at a later point in this blog), the realisation of how meat SHOULD be sliced for perfect fit in a sandwich, discovery of one particular Clapham sandwich shop, and how avocado can be leveraged as a super-food alternative to traditional 'moist makers' (to reference the episode of Friends whereby Ross is incensed by sandwich theft!). All in all, dear reader, I hope this blog will be both interesting and informative, and ensure you make better sandwich choices - in turn brightening your day little by little! It's going to be a fun journey, keep in touch.
JC xxx
Sandwich #1: Tesco's 'Tuna Nicoise... on tomato bread'
What better sandwich to kick-start this blog than Tesco’s Tuna Nicoise, a sandwich variety I am presently unfamiliar with, but which offers
tuna, egg, spinach, onion, and, tantalisingly, ‘tomato bread’, a bread type of
which I am similarly unfamiliar.
I feel sandwich ingredients are often lumped into clichés from
which it can be hard to break free; you have your egg salad of some variety, or
egg and bacon – no salad, most meats will be accompanied by a lacklustre salad
of some description, and cheese will inevitably accompany a pickle or tomato.
Tuna Nicoise is exciting in that it breaks these boundaries and dares to marry
tuna in with egg.
This pairing was explosive at first bite, with these two
distinct flavours exploding onto the tongue like a taste firework. Tesco’s have
offered a fine first bite by focusing the majority of the filling on the centre
of the sandwich, as is often the case with sandwich makers – the filling tends
to thin out towards the crust as you finish each half. This would be the first
time I have appreciated this inevitability whilst eating a sandwich, as the
flavours were so strong it was actually a welcome relief to have a couple of
bites of just the bread towards the end of my meal.
The infamous ‘tomato bread’ in fact was very palatable, with
a salty but sweet flavour that made up for its somewhat ghastly orange appearance
when I took the sandwich out of the package. It had a rather
chemical-remniscient appearance not unlike something you would expect to find
in an American high school in the 90’s, which, it is important to report, was
not the impression received when eating this actually very well crafted bread.
Sadly, the second half of the sandwich was a bit more
disappointing, feeling lighter to hold and indeed being less well-filled than
the first half – only half of a tomato slice was included, and a low egg-slice:tuna
ratio. As I started on the second half, the words “it is better to have loved
and lost, than never to have loved at all” came to mind – though I would
certainly prefer to endure another second half of a tuna nicoise sandwich than
a bout of full-fledged heartbreak. Importantly,
the flavours still shone through despite low sandwich content, with a delicious
peppery finish accompanying the tuna perfectly. On the very last bite, I had a
perfect chunk of tuna filling with mayonnaise attached to the crust, a
wonderfully moist way to finish this particular culinary adventure.
To conclude: Tesco have created in the ‘Tuna Nicoise… on
tomato bread’ a fabulous, powerfully flavoured sandwich, that is sadly let down
by a lacklustre volume of filling. I can only assume the scrimpiness is for
financial reasons. If there was more of the middle to enjoy, I can confidently
say that this sandwich would be amongst one of the best (or maybe Top 15)
sandwiches that I have tasted from a major supermarket, due to an intense blend
of flavours on a perfectly fitting bread. I award this a Sandwich Experience
score of 71.875%.
Note: for a full data breakdown on this score, please see below
Experience: 14/17
Branding: 2/3
Content: 2/4
Ingredients: 3/3
Appearance: 2/5
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