Velvety golden and calcium rich, I'm not sure who melts more..you or I. Nestled between two buttery pieces of spatula smushed bread, you are the ultimate lazy and satisfying hot sandwich. Everyone wants to be near you. The potato chips. The tomato soup. The crispy pickle spear. It is you grilled cheese that steals the show.
There are many ways to make a grilled cheese sandwich. It is a customizable comfort food of delicious proportions. American, Cheddar, Jack (Swiss is more of a complimentary cheese - serves you right for being neutral), all are fine. Butter the bread or not. It's up to you. Fluffy or flattened. Cut in half or diagonal. Coupled with bacon, tomato, turkey, ham, or any other veg or formerly alive meat, the grilled cheese is a satisfying piece of gooey business.
I have many fond memories constructing and devouring grilled cheese sandwiches. I mourn the loss of The New York Milkshake Company formerly of St. Mark's Place, which had the most wonderful pressed grilled cheese sandwiches. They were a bit pricey but of a pretty decent size. My favorite was the cheddar & jack with bacon partnered with a strawberry shake. Weak knees.
Everyone likes their grilled cheese sandwich differently. Of course, we always think the way we make it is the best. When preparing a grilled cheese in the presence of others, you are guaranteed many opinions and insights, not that you will listen to any of them.
"You need white bread."
"Butter is better than margarine"
"The tomato should go between the slices of cheese."
We've heard them all and ignored them all. And that is what is so cool about a grilled cheese, it's good every way you make them. Except one.
It happened in my kitchen. I was getting something to drink when I saw something in the toaster. Hmmm? Slowly approaching, I make my way over to the transparent toaster window. My eyebrows went up. Eyes went cross. Mouth speechless and ajar. In my head a booming voice, "What the hell is this?"
As I am staring the basement door opens and out comes my father's secretary who along with her small son had come over to pick up some work she would be completing at home. She makes her way over to the toaster and inquires to her child, "Ready for your grilled cheese?"
GASP!
This is not a grilled cheese sandwich. It is one piece of bread with a piece of cheese melting over the buttered side of the bread. It was awful and plastic looking and was nor grilled or a sandwich. It was a baked blob of cheesy rubber. While I stood agape, she removed the monstrosity from the toaster oven and proceeded to knife the crust off. Yeah, that'll make it much better. She then brought it over to her child, proud of her creation, and placed it before him. He would eat it. He's a child and he's hungry, and damn it, he didn't know any better. I felt sorry for that child. He actually thought that he was eating a grilled cheese sandwich. All I saw was meal abuse. Mom, guilty on all charges.
That child is probably a teenager now. I hope he knows better. I hope he finds it in his heart to forgive his mother.
The grilled cheese sandwich is a wonderful thing. It is tasty, and filling, and fun. It's not just a sandwich, it's an experience. It is love. You see, you haven't been loved until someone has made a grilled cheese sandwich for you. A grilled cheese says everything. It's love, it's friendship, it's caring, it's a little slice of them, shared with you.
So the next time someone makes you a grilled cheese, kiss them. That is someone who cares because they have just given you something wonderful.
And if they give you a baked cheese blob, it's probably over.
*UPDATE* Much to my surprise and excitement, The New York Milkshake Company has returned. I'm only two years late discovering this. Yes, it is alive and well but at a much different location. Very exciting news. A trip must be made.
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