Anny Middon
2007-05-23 20:12:47 UTC
The mystery of what is a Lincoln Log sandwich has been solved by Brian
Williams in that Slate.com commentary about The Sopranos. Williams had
remarked that Carm fixing the sandwiches brought back memories, and Timothy
Noah asked what the sandwiches were.
Here's what Williams responded:
"...Would that my mother were here to defend herself. She went to her reward
years ago, and with her went the Lincoln Log recipe. During what has been a
painful day of culinary reminiscence on my part, all I can recall were Oscar
Mayer "frankfurters" (as my dad still calls them, I believe in deference to
the Supreme Court justice) split suggestively down the middle (I never
watched that part, because as with lobsters, I was never really sure they
were dead) and then slathered-in our version-lengthwise in mayonnaise. I
know. How do you think I feel? That was my life in north Jersey. They made
for a handy, portable heart attack on a bun. Enough aggressively bad food in
a fist-size package to give the eater/victim instant angina (and this was
years before he got voted off American Idol) if not worse. I remember we had
to get a certain kind of bun-the Pepperidge Farm "New England cut"-so that
when splayed open it presented more like a double-thickness slab of Wonder
Bread. On the dog would go copious amounts of mayo-and in some houses, cream
cheese. Always Breakstone's. My mom later developed some tsoris over the
quality of the Oscar Mayers, so we switched to Hebrew Nationals."
Anny
Williams in that Slate.com commentary about The Sopranos. Williams had
remarked that Carm fixing the sandwiches brought back memories, and Timothy
Noah asked what the sandwiches were.
Here's what Williams responded:
"...Would that my mother were here to defend herself. She went to her reward
years ago, and with her went the Lincoln Log recipe. During what has been a
painful day of culinary reminiscence on my part, all I can recall were Oscar
Mayer "frankfurters" (as my dad still calls them, I believe in deference to
the Supreme Court justice) split suggestively down the middle (I never
watched that part, because as with lobsters, I was never really sure they
were dead) and then slathered-in our version-lengthwise in mayonnaise. I
know. How do you think I feel? That was my life in north Jersey. They made
for a handy, portable heart attack on a bun. Enough aggressively bad food in
a fist-size package to give the eater/victim instant angina (and this was
years before he got voted off American Idol) if not worse. I remember we had
to get a certain kind of bun-the Pepperidge Farm "New England cut"-so that
when splayed open it presented more like a double-thickness slab of Wonder
Bread. On the dog would go copious amounts of mayo-and in some houses, cream
cheese. Always Breakstone's. My mom later developed some tsoris over the
quality of the Oscar Mayers, so we switched to Hebrew Nationals."
Anny