Was starving on the way to the gym today so I used that fact as an excuse to stop in at Il Tramezzino on the Haarlemmerstraat. I'd peeked in a few weeks ago and their sandwiches looked semi-inspired and authentically tramezzinish.
Ten years ago when we first started traveling around Italy, tramezzini were our Emergency Food. After we'd walked around for hours trying to find just the right place to stop for a bite and a drink (without actually ever going into anywhere...this is called a Death Mope, something to avoid) and we could finally bear our hunger no longer, we would break down and get a tramezzino or two. And we would be SO HAPPY to be sitting down and munching away on our tuna fish or egg salad, or whatever the mediocre filling was.
And today: my experience was very authentic, meaning that they were pretty boring little sandwiches with the crusts cut off. I got 1/2 smoked salmon and asparagus and 1/2 chicken salad with pesto. Both were fine, but I was so hungry it didn't matter what they were. Oh yeah, they were also one other thing: twice the price of our Italian tramezzini back in 2000. My advice: save your money and make your own non-mediocre sandwiches.
A note on the photo above. When I was in America last month, this note was on the kitchen island one morning when I came down for coffee. Once you know that D.T. is Mara's dad and J.T. is Mara's mom, the rest is pretty self-explanatory. I post this because it made me shake my head and say "you crazy foul-mouthed kids", and I brought it to Amsterdam b/c I knew it would make Mara do the same, which it did.
This is an often-NSFW, mostly gluten-free kitchen notebook that also occasionally threatens to turn into something else and fails, thus remaining its same old cryptic and superficial self. These posts begin to fail to explain (start at the bottom).
Reboot the Blog, Recalibrate the Palate
A period of neglect. Dormancy. Slackness. Call it what you will. This miniscule corner of the web still has some life. I'd like to make it sputter again from...