Sandwich (pronounced sand-wich or san-wich)
(1) Two
or more slices of bread or the like with a layer of meat, fish, cheese etc
between each pair.
(2) A type of cake with noticeably distinct horizontal layers.
(3) To
insert something between two other things (used figuratively also of ideas, concepts, historic events etc).
(4) In engineering or construction, a technique of assembly in which materials (which need not be flat) are joined in two or more layers.
(5) To eat one or more sandwiches (archaic except in literary or poetic use).
1762: Named after John Montagu (1718-1792), fourth of Earl Sandwich, a bit of a cad and gambler who, during marathon sessions at the tables, would eat slices of cold meat between bread rather than rise for a meal and thus "miss a bet". However, the earl’s biographer suggested his subject was a serious chap, committed to the navy, politics and the arts and the sandwiches were actually eaten at his desk at the Admiralty but the legend is much preferred. It was in his honor Captain James Cook (1728-1779) named the Hawaiian Sandwich islands in 1778 when Montagu was First Lord of the Admiralty (then the UK's minister for the Royal Navy). The family name is from the place in Kent which in the Old English was Sandwicæ (sandy harbor; trading center). In structural linguistics, a "sandwich" word is one in which two or more syllables have been split (al la slices of bread) and filled with another word. Use of the technique is common and exemplified by an opinion such as: "Fox News is just Murdoch propafuckinganda". The term was coined by US lexicographer Dr Harold Wentworth (1904-1965). A "sandwichery" is a place where sandwiches are sold and the noun sandwichness (the state or quality of being a sandwich) seems only ever used as jocular term food reviews. Sandwich, sandwichness & sandwichery are nouns, verb & adjective, sandwiched is a verb and sandwichlike, sandwichy & sandwichless are adjectives; the noun plural is sandwiches (the always rare sandwichs probably now extinct).
There are a least dozens and likely more than a hundred recorded descriptions of sandwiches with names drawn variously from the fillings, type of bread, method of preparation, (alleged) regional origin or occasion when served but the word has also appeared in idiomatic use including: “nothing sandwich” (a sandwich with a bland taste (used also figuratively as a synonym of “nothingburger” to suggest something is of less significance than its appearance or treatment accorded deserves)); “soup sandwich” (something or someone thought disorganized, incompetent, fundamentally flawed or unfinished; “air sandwich” (a sandwich consisting only of bread and a sauce or spread, but no filling (in figurative use a strategy that has high-level direction and low-level administrative support but in operation is close to inert); “Elvis sandwich” (a sandwich made peanut butter, sliced or mashed banana, and sometimes bacon on toasted bread, based on the fondness the singer Elvis Presley (1935-1977) had for the concoction (a banana smeared with peanut butter was reputedly a favourite snack of Bill Clinton (b 1946; POTUS 1993-2001)); “shit sandwich” (something highly undesirable that is rendered more acceptable or palatable by the addition of more tolerable or agreeable components); “tavern sandwich” a sandwich consisting of unseasoned ground beef and sautéed onions in a bun); “barley sandwich” (a glass of beer (synonymous with “liquid lunch”); “lead sandwich” (a method of suicide in which a shotgun is placed in the mouth and discharged (100% success rate as might be expected)) and “prawn (shrimp) sandwich brigade” (those who attend sporting event to socialize and enjoy the hospitality in corporate hospitality boxes rather than having any interest in the event). In physics a “nanosandwich” is a nanoscale structure consisting of a dielectric layer between two discs and in chemistry a “sandwich compound” is any compound in which a metal atom is located between the faces of two planes of atoms, especially between two rings.
There is doubt whether the sandwich became so-named as early as 1762 because the first documented account of the earl’s culinary innovation was written in 1770 but it certainly caught on. The sandwich board, the two-sided mobile advertising carried on the shoulders was first so-described in 1864 and someone employed to "wear" the device was sandwichman (a word now probably extinct although sandwich boards still occasionally are seen, carried presumably by sandwichpersons). The Wall Street Journal once described the sandwich as "Britain's biggest contribution to gastronomy" but, given the parlous reputation of the rest of their pre-modern cuisine, the WSJ may have been damning with faint praise. Regardless, while Lord Sandwich may have lent his name, the historical record suggests sandwiches have been eaten since bread was first baked, pre-dating the earl by thousands of years.
In 2022, with Lindsay Lohan on location in Ireland for the shooting of the Netflix film Irish Wish (2024), Westport Café The Creel created a sandwich to honor the famous visitor. The Lindsay LoHam included 'nduja sausage, Monterey Jack cheese, mixed grated cheddar, caramelized onions and, naturally enough given the name, ham. Irish Wish remains available to stream but the Lindsay LoHam enjoyed only a limited release.
By convention, when more than two slices of bread are used it becomes a "club sandwich" and it's now not uncommon for filled bread rolls, pita, flatbreads, etc also to be sold as sandwiches. When the filling is spread atop a single slice of bread, it can be called an "open sandwich" which (historically) is oxymoronic but in commerce the term is well-established; dating from the 1920s, these first appeared on menus as "open face sandwich" but the term was soon clipped. Over millennia, there must have been countless inventions and re-inventions of variants of the sandwich and the innovations have been linguistic as well as culinary, one noted concoction the muffuletta, a thick, round sandwich, typically containing ham, salami, and cheeses and topped with an olive salad, a specialty of New Orleans; it seems first to have been served in the late 1960s, the name from the Sicilian dialect, from the Italian muffoletta (a round hollow-centered loaf of bread), from muffola (mitten), from the French moufle. In New Orleans, among the muffuletta cognoscenti, there is a heated faction and a room-temperature faction. Another delicacy is the fried brain sandwich which, although now associated with things south of the Mason-Dixon line, was apparently first offered in St Louis, Missouri. Self-explanatory, it's made with thinly sliced fried slabs of calf’s brain on white toast; to some a genuine delicacy, to others it'd be an acquired taste. Etymologists note that confusingly, in the US, some restaurants (said to be most often those “specializing in barbecue”) use “sandwich” in its adjectival sense when serving a meal that is smaller than either lunch or dinner yet not so modest to be thought “a snack”. These offerings do not imply that of necessity what’s served will be in the form of “a sandwich” although some may be, the point being what’s on the menu is “something smaller than what appears on the lunch and dinner menus”.
In 2017, Guinness World Records officially recognized the “Quintessential Grilled Cheese” on the menu at New York City’s Serendipity3 as the planet’s most expensive commercially available sandwich. Then listed at US$214, it was made with Dom Perignon champagne-infused French Pullman bread, 23-karat edible gold, a rare Italian cheese and grass-fed white truffle butter. Served on a Baccarat crystal plate with a bowl of South African lobster tail tomato bisque, the restaurant required customers to order 48-hour in advance. Obviously not a typical cheese toastie, the core ingredient was Caciocavallo Podolico, an extremely rare Italian cheese made from the milk of a mere 25,000-odd cows grazing on fennel, licorice, and wild strawberries; accounting for some of the sandwich’s high price, the beasts lactate only for a few weeks over May-June. The luxury toastie still appears on Serendipity 3's menu (along with the “World's most expensive fries” but interestingly, the restaurant have not advised any increase in the price, despite recent inflation and the spike in the gold price. Given it need to be ordered in advance, presumably it's now on a PoA (price on application) basis. Still, renowned also for its Frrrozen Hot Chocolate (there’s a $25,000 “Haute” version of that which must be remarkable), Serendipity 3 does sound the ideal place for a first date although it would raise expectations and one should choose the place only if one has the disposable income for regular return visits.
1959 Lotus Elite S1.
The Lotus Elite (Type 14) was produced in two series (S1, 1957-1960; S2, 1960-1963) and was a rolling catalogue of innovation and clever re-purposing of off-the-shelf parts. One of its most distinctive features was borrowed from aviation: the stressed-skin fibreglass monocoque construction which obviated entirely the need for a chassis or space-frame, the body an integrated, load-bearing structure created using the “sandwich technique”. The only substantial steel components were a sub-frame supporting the engine and front suspension and a hoop to which was attached the windscreen, door hinges and jacking points. The company’s philosophy was “simplify, then add lightness” while lent the Elite some delightful characteristics but even had all components been produced in accordance with the specification, many parts of the structure were so close to the point of failure that some revisions to the design would anyway have been necessary but the early cars were far from perfect. The contact for the fabrication of the bodies had been won by a boat-builder, then one of the few companies with much experience in molding fibreglass.
Elizabeth Gaskell's (1810–1865) 1857 biography (a very Victorian work) long loomed over the memory of Charlotte Brontë because it portrayed the author of the deliciously depraved eponymous protagonist in Jane Eyre (1847) as the doomed, saint-like victim of the circumstances which crushed her and the consumption which stalked her. The old curmudgeon G.K. Chesterton (1874–1936) reckoned that while a good biography told one much about the subject, a bad one revealed all one needed to know about the author. Gaskell’s crafted miserabilia of course created a legend of its own, a kind of death cult for those for whom victimhood isn’t quite enough so Charlotte Brontë has long been on the emo reading list (a very specific sub-set of the canon). However, whatever might have been the tone of reviews penned by those critics who found little to admire in works by women, even jaded types like literary editors were captivated by her words, George Smith (1865-1932) who worked for the publishing house Smith, Elder & Co at Cornhill noting in his diary: “After breakfast on Sunday morning I took the manuscript of Jane Eyre to my little study, and began to read it. The story took me captive. When the servant came to tell me that luncheon was ready I asked him to brim me a sandwich and a glass of wine, and still went on with Jane Eyre. Dinner came; for me the meal was a very hasty one; and before I went to bed that night I had finished reading the manuscript.” She deserved better than the gloomy impression left by Elizabeth Gaskell and history has been kind although even George Smith who admired her thought he discerned what she really wanted from life, writing in The Critic in 1901: "I believe she would have given all her genius and all her fame to be beautiful. Perhaps few women ever existed more anxious to be pretty than she, and more angrily conscious of the circumstance that she was not pretty." That was perhaps toxic masculinity as expressed by the literary middle class but Anthony Trollope (1815-1882) focused just on the work, writing in his Autobiography (1883): "I venture to predict that Jane Eyre will be read among English novels when many whose names are now better known shall be forgotten."
Of the fourth Earl of Sandwich who got a bit of fun out of life
John Montagu was one of the more interesting chaps to sit in the House of Lords. Rich and well-connected, he was a libertine in the milieu of the aristocratic swagger of the eighteenth century, his country house described by a contemporary as “the scene of our youthful debaucheries, the retreat of your hoary licentiousness.” There’s never been any suggestion Sandwich was in his self-indulgence any more depraved than many of his companions but certainly, he fitted-in.
In his lifetime, the earl’s fame came not from the eponymous snack but his long affair with Miss Martha Ray (1746-1779), a most becoming and talented young singer. It’s never been known when first they made friends but she lived with him as his mistress from the age of seventeen (he was then forty-five), the relationship producing nine children. The concubinage of Miss Ray he enjoyed while his wife was suffering from mental illness and while it’s not recorded if her condition was triggered by her husband’s ways, given he conducted an affair also with his sister-in-law, there must be some suspicion.
Montagu's behavior attracted the interest of many, including John Wilkes, a prominent satirist who wrote a number of pieces critical of the earl’s politics and ridiculing his (not so) private life. Montagu’s revenge was swift. Wilkes didn’t write only publicly-published satire, he also had a small circle of socially elite subscribers to his other literary output. That was pornography, and the earl was a subscriber. To discredit Wilkes, Lord Sandwich rose in the House of Lords and read extracts from Wilkes’ The Essay on Women which he prefaced by telling their lordships “…it was so full of filthy langue (sic) as well as the most horrid blasphemies”. The earl did not exaggerate and even today the words would shock and appall their lordships although, it must be admitted, it's always been a place where members easily are appalled (or at least affect to be). The vengeance backfired, the Lords ruling his speech a breach of procedure which sounds a mild rebuke but in that place was a damning censure. It also provoked Wilkes who responded with tales of Sandwich’s “debauchery, miserliness and lack of good faith” and a biography published in the 1760s labelled him “an arsonist and thief”. His reputation never recovered although, when masticating a sandwich, we all still should remember him and be glad.
Miss Ray’s end was sadder still. Lord Sandwich granted her a generous allowance and obtained a flat in Westminster so she had somewhere to live during those times when, for whatever reason, she couldn’t stay in his house. He also introduced her to a young soldier, James Hackman (circa 1752-1779) who became obsessed with her and soon turned into what would now be called a stalker. In 1779, Hackman resigned his commission to join the church and it seems he and Ms Ray may have had a brief liaison but she declined his offers of marriage, apparently because she thought his social status and financial means inadequate to keep he in the style to which she'd become accustomed. Not handling rejection well, Hackman remained infatuated, became obsessively jealous and renewed the pursuit. One evening in April 1779, after following her to the Royal Opera House at Covent Garden, he shot her dead, apparently under the impression she had taken another lover, which may or may not have been true. Immediately after the murder, Hackman attempted suicide but succeeded only in wounding himself and was arrested. Two days after she was buried, the Reverend Hackman was sentenced to be hanged and within the week he died on the Tyburn gallows in a public execution before “a large crowd”.




















