sardine and peppadew sandwich

i have guilt.

tiny fish guilt.

for years, i fell victim

to the popular digs -

about tiny fish found

in tiny cans. i'm open to

trying almost anything,

but the opportunity never

presented itself and i was

fine with that.

and then

one day, i had a marinated

white anchovy. my eyes were

opened. from there, i had

anchovies on pizza, in pasta

and sauteed with cauliflower. i was

the first one to poke my chopsticks

into the small bowls of even teenier

fish set on the table at a korean

restaurant and i willed myself

to try these bite-size crabs. i loved them.

but, still, until three months ago,

sardines were not really part of my life.

then, i ordered them, fresh and grilled, at a restaurant

when nothing else on the menu seemed

appealing. there were five, all with mini bones

to be removed from the admittedly flavorful flesh,

which i was not crazy about.

a month later, when i took larry

to degustation for his amazing birthday dinner,

one of the 10 courses featured sardines.

on one side of the plate was a

freshly cured curl, the other side was

fried and served with pickled onions. it

was one of my favorite dishes of the night.

although, yes, i know there is a difference

between fresh sardines and canned,

in my life, that seemed like the next

most practical leap -

so i started researching them

and buying them: one layer, two layer,

skinless and boneless, whole, packed in oil,

packed in spring water.

(i still haven't ventured

into the tomato sauce, pepper or mustard

packed cans.)

i realized that i like them all,

but if I was forced to tell you about one,

it would have to be the two layer sardines,

packed in olive oil, which for the effort of

opening the can, rewards you with two layers

of fish, from head to tail. trust me - i'm

the person who vowed to never again buy

canned salmon and attempt salmon cakes

after realizing what it meant to remove

the bones from the can. this is different -

the bones are so tiny and tender, that

i didn't even realize they're there. and,

if you are someone who does not like

seeing the entire fish looking back at you,

don't worry - once mashed,

nothing is recognizable.

they are flavorful, but not insultingly so,

much closer to tuna in harshness,

than ultra briny anchovies.

so, i started adding them to different

things, like pasta and salads.

and i started making sandwiches,

like this one,

with capers and mustard,

and spicy-sweet peppadews,

which i hope you try.

but, i will say this.

i'm fully aware that if the idea of opening a can

and seeing these sardines stare back at you,

finding out there are anchovies in your salad dressing

or dried shrimp in your thai food will upset you,

this sandwich is not for you.

this is not a recipe about conversion

or arm twisting.

it's a recipe about another choice for people

who already are fans - or maybe for those like

me: willing, but in need of a push.

sardine and peppadew sandwich

i've made this with a couple different types of canned sardines, which frankly, have all worked. so, feel free to use whatever you have on hand. but, if you're going out and shopping for them, i'm partial to the two layer in olive oil, which surprisingly boast less fat than the sister can packed in spring water. served on a baguette, it's a hearty sandwich appropriate for a fast or home-alone dinner, but on sliced bread, would be great for lunch. also, i think it's fair to say that this is one of those guideline recipes - adjust to suit your taste.

1 large juicy lemon, halved

1 medium shallot, peeled and finely chopped

3 tins sardines

3 tablespoons dijon mustard

1 heaping tablespoon capers, drained

salt and pepper

6-8 peppadews, sliced

mayonnaise, if you like that kind of thing

1 baguette, ends trimmed or 6-8 slices bread (depending on how packed you like your sandwiches

squeeze lemon juice into small mixing bowl. stir in shallots. let sit 20 minutes.

remove sardines from tins and add to bowl (i would refrain from simply overturning the tins into the bowl - you will end up with a lot of oil). using fork, mash sardines. stir in dijon mustard and capers. add salt and pepper to taste. adjust seasonings.

slice baguette in half or place bread slices on clean surface. spread with a thin layer of mayonnaise, if desired. divide sardine mixture evenly among bread slices or bottom layer of baguette. top with peppadews. cut baguette into four even pieces.

bbe: a sandwich place

i'm not the kind of girl

who likes roast beef or ham, or really, 

even turkey.

i think roasted red peppers are

just ok and i'm so-so on 

grilled chicken. 

mayonnaise, in excess,

or simply spread on the bread,

freaks me out.

i am, as you can imagine,

a ton of fun in a deli.

i do, however, love the idea 

of lunch and the concept of a really

good sandwich, like ones that involve

large grilled shrimp,

perfectly ripe slices of avocado

or crumbled creamy salty feta.

in high school, i imagined myself

opening a coffee shop. 

one that was 

eclectic and homey with 

large overstuffed armchairs, 

scattered amongst 

scuffed wooden straight backs 

and wicker seats that boasted 

layers of chipped paint.

there would be really huge non-matching mugs 

for coffee and tea - 

perfect for the customers who came 

in the morning

and never left,

too busy reading a book 

or chatting with a friend.

then, a couple weeks into college,

my roommate and i walked into deja brew. 

it was exactly what i imagined for my shop,

intimate 

and quirky 

and safe,

quiet, with an easy-going atmosphere.

it was...

me.

for four years, i loved this place, with 

its striped and polka dot mugs,

that i sipped from while

eating lunch with friends,

during creative writing classes (the professor's choice!),

project meetings and 

for those times that i just needed

to be alone.

now, i still imagine that store-front:

the lines a little cleaner,

the furniture with slight connection,

but the quiet quirkiness, the same.

oh, and for years, i've pictured it,

no longer a coffee shop, but instead 

bbe:

a sandwich place.

because i have to believe that there

are others 

who are not crazy about

ham or roast beef, 

and who really crave sandwiches

that are not easy to find,

that are culinary achievements

in their own right 

(ok, maybe that last part is a bit

of a reach).

but, you get the point.

fancy, yet unpretentious,

amazingly delectable

and creative sandwiches.

that's what bbe -

named for brooke, blair and erin, 

me and my sisters -

would be about.

so, when faced with a fresh jar

of preserved meyer lemons and an

unexplainable lack of interest in tagines,

(at least for now, anyway),

i knew that a sandwich was 

in the works.

in my preserved lemon research,

i found a few items 

involving tuna

and since i haven't had 

a tuna sandwich

in a very long time, 

it sounded perfect.

i remembered a recipe that i once saw involving

tuna and an olive spread 

and instantly craved the combination.

sharp finely chopped red onions,

briny capers and a 

country loaf of whole wheat sourdough 

rounded out the deal.

i was a little nervous - would the lemons

pack such a flavorful punch

that everything else would be overshadowed?

would they blend in, 

never to be heard from again?

would the whole thing be boring? 

too salty?

no, no, no and no.

rustic at its best, 

slightly imperfect, 

not so gorgeous

and bursting with 

interesting ingredients,

this is definitely one of those

recipes in which the 

sum is greater than its parts.

sure the kalamata-based spread is good,

really good, actually,

and the tuna mixture serves its purpose -

it's blended with juice from a non-preserved

lemon to ensure that 

the flavor is bright

and then drizzled with 

red wine vinegar for 

extra acidity, 

a trick i learned when working

at a pizzeria many years ago.

and the toasted slices 

of thick-cut bread,

are ok.

at best, someone might call them common -

it's fine, i can take it.

 

but when layered together,

and the lemony tuna 

meets garlicky roughly pureed olives

on slightly crunchy bread,

the results, i think, are bbe-worthy.

tuna with preserved lemons and olive spread on sourdough 

tapenade or olive spread is readily available in local stores. i have a great recipe that i will share soon, but if you are unable to find a container and you're in the market for something to spread on your bread, toss a large handful of pitted kalamata olives in a mini food processor with a spoonful of mustard, a clove or two of garlic, a few dashes of cayenne pepper and a small drizzle of olive oil. as for the mayonnaise - i've mentioned, it's not my favorite. so i've only used enough to make sure that the ingredients are bound together and creamy - feel free to go up and down depending on your level of love for the condiment. and, if this sandwich is missing something, i think it's greens - watercress, i believe would be unforgettable - in between the tuna and the top layer of bread. if you have any laying around, toss them on, too.

this recipe makes about two large sandwiches, with some tuna left over to add to a green salad the next day. or, you can build them on regular toasted sandwich bread - you'll get at least enough for four this way. 

4 slices bread cut from center of whole wheat sourdough loaf OR 8 slices bread from regular loaf

2 Tbs. finely chopped red onion

3 wedges preserved meyer lemon, pulp scraped from rind, both chopped

1 Tbs. salt-packed capers, rinsed, drained and dried

1/4 cup low-fat mayo

1/2 large non-preserved lemon, juiced

2 cans (6 oz. each) albacore tuna in spring water, drained well

1/3 cup olive spread

red wine vinegar

lightly toast bread. meanwhile, in bowl, combine red onion, meyer lemon rind, capers and mayo; stir in chopped pulp and lemon juice. add tuna; stir just until combined. season with freshly cracked black pepper.

place bread on work surface; divide olive spread among bread slices. divide tuna mixture. drizzle with red wine vinegar to taste (you can be liberal with the vinegar, within reason, here). top with remaining slices of bread; halve sandwiches.