and lo, a new sandwich hath appeared

Sandwich artistry may appear to have settled into standard tropes and tired formats, but scientific curiosity, creativity, and the urge to experiment will not be denied. In recent days, social media has been buzzing over the Sandwich Guy, a would-be revolutionary sandwich artist who posted his “sandwich business model” on reddit and asked for commentary.

You can imagine how that went.

Now, I’m no sandwich artist, but I’ve put in some time on the front lines, I’ve made the rounds from the classic grilled cheese to the shooter, and I definitely can appreciate the unexpected. So despite taking Sandwich Guy’s claim with a huge lick of salt, I was hoping somehow it would all shake out to a reveal, either hilarious (dude made a bologna and cheese) or amazing (dude made something intricate and delicious). But it mostly looks like an ordinary troll after all. I confess I’m disappointed.

But as I was wailing and bemoaning the sad state of Sandwich Craft today, I saw that we had some thick cut bacon in the fridge, and my wife had left out the peanut butter…and I knew how to restore my faith in Sandwich Artistry: the Wendigo. I’d made it a few times before, and it never fails to pick up the spirits, before choking them out and throwing them over a dark and rocky cliff.

I pan-fried the bacon (4 slices remaining), creating a splattery mess, then gathered the rest of the ingredients: dill pickles, mayonnaise, peanut butter (crunchy, thank you). Bread? We didn’t have any bread. Wait…hiding in the fridge were some bagels. I pulled them out…shit. Cinnamon raisin bagels. You can’t do that to a sandwich…a bacon sandwich…can you?

I hesitated, but was overcome by bacon scent. SCREW IT, WE’RE DOING THIS. Into the toaster went the bagel. Then, the spirit of the moment junk-punching me once again, SCREW IT, LET’S GET SOME CHEESE ON THIS FUCKER. Aaaaand no cheese. Wait…hiding in the fridge was yet another surprise, a pub cheese cheddar and horseradish spread. Cheeses saves! OUT IT COMES, WE’RE DOING THIS. While I was in there, I saw the friendly little enema-nozzle of a plastic bottle of yellowbird habanero sauce…NO SAUCE LEFT BEHIND, COME ON OUT, YOU LITTLE YELLOW BASTARD.

So here we are. Pickles, peanut butter, bacon, mayonnaise, horseradish pub cheese spread, habby sauce, all on a toasted cinnamon raisin bagel. On the one hand, this is not only an assault on the taste buds; it’s an offense against humanity, decency, ecology, and the church. “Wrenchingly complex” would be the kindest way to describe it. But in the spirit of the original Wendigo article, this monstrosity needs a name. I think it’s only appropriate to reflect this…artwork’s…inherent confusion. And so, I give you the Whichwaydigo.

On the other hand, it’s actually pretty damn tasty.


Name o' Penfold. Just Penfold. A full-time husband, dad, programmer, and nerd, trying to add "writer" to the list.

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