17 hours ago
The sweet sandwich is simply not food
The combination of strawberries, cream cheese and sweet bread arguably makes the sandwich an outright dessert
TOM REGESTER
F illing and nutritious. Conveniently portable. Capable of being eaten without the mediating instruments of cutlery. Simple, yet susceptible of endless variation. However justly maligned the long history of British cuisine is, the sandwich is one edible artefact this country can take some pride in having bestowed on the world. The culinary conceit of using bread as a wrapper for other foodstuffs is one of those ideas that seems so natural it is hard to believe it had to be invented.
Yet one of the sandwich's central strengths — its versatility — is also a source of danger. Its adaptability is easily abused. Does jam, or 'jelly', really belong in a sandwich? Do crisps? Other attempts to extend the genre simply testify to man's overweening hubris. Come winter, the chilly shelves of cafés are now routinely filled with sandwiches that purport to fit an entire Christmas dinner between two slices of bread.
The latest attempt to desecrate the legacy of the 4th Earl of Sandwich comes courtesy of Marks & Spencer, where it is now possible to purchase a strawberries and cream sandwich. The 'limited edition Red Diamond Strawberry and Creme on soft, sweetened bread' is even more subversive than it seems. After all, the attempt to transform the savoury sandwich into a sweet snack brings inherent challenges. Here, the combination of cream cheese, sweet bread, and the fact that the sandwich takes the form of a sinister, single sleeve, arguably make the object an outright dessert.
M&S, which pioneered the shop-bought sandwich in the late 1970s, is an innovator to be reckoned with. The strawberry sandwich has certainly given the internet's 'clickbait' food influencers something to chew on, as they film themselves sampling the novel delicacy. Yet it is hard not to think Britain's sandwich makers really ought to stick to the bread and butter methods of ages past.
