I don't know... I go through a lot of butter as it is
I’ve told this story before, but when we moved to the UK back in the ‘90’s, both MrsT and I were astounded at how wonderful the sandwiches were…even plastic-boxed pre-made ones from the convenience stores. There was just…
something…about them that were out of this world.
Some of it was that there were varieties that we didn’t have in the US, like cheese-and-(Branston) pickle, but that couldn’t explain it entirely.
One day at work, I was discussing the subject with another American, and he happened to have an English girlfriend. He corroborated that indeed there was something different going on, and revealed the secret:
“Yeah, I told Hannah, ‘God, this sandwich is just ham and cheese, but it’s phenomenal! What in the world is it?!’”
He was pulling it apart examining it when she told him that maybe it was the butter.
“THAT’S IT!!!”
Sure enough, he was right, it was the butter. It added a creaminess that sort of pulled everything together.
Years later, having moved back to the US, we were visiting my parents, and I was extolling the deliciousness of British sandwiches. I think she was losing her patience with me, as I’d previously extolled the superiority of British cheese…beer…ham…roast beef…healthcare…government…scenery…women…cars…tea…weather…because she kind of rolled her eyes as I continued:
“…and you won’t believe what the secret is! It’s—”
“Butter. They prob’ly butter their sandwiches.”
“YES!!!…but how did you know that?!”
“That’s how Mom made all our sandwiches when we was growin’ up.”
“Well, you never buttered
our sandwiches!”
“I’s raisin’ six kids! Who has time fer that?!”
