I have little to say in the culinary field. I am as far
removed from the profession of cooking as might be attainable. I rely heavily
on the package printed cooking methods, microwave settings, and a dial-a-pizza
to satisfy an un-relenting rumbling belly that speaks beyond the control of my
own conscience.
But it was a particular jiggle that bellowed from my midriff
the started a sequence of events that changed the lives of very few, but did
lead to a book not being opened and an answer never read…what do you call a
piece of bread with jam on top?
Many of my educated and perhaps confused friends have called
upon the well known identifier of bread based goods “the sandwich” to recognise
this piece of food stuff. However I would like to point out to my honourable
friends the food stuff known as “the sandwich” needs a mirrored piece of
breaded stuff to run at parallel to the base item to be recognised as
“sandwich”. This piece of food not yielding such characteristics means it lay a
whole slice of breads worth away from being known as “sandwich”.
It was shuddering to know there is no house hold name for
this item that I wish to consume. I have enjoyed the slice of bread topped with
a variety of supporting players, be it butter and Nutella, mothers made
marmalade, the long forgotten but still available “fluff”, marmite and in
desperate times vegemite, or even slices of banana which was a carefully
deliberate action considered on days devoid of your devotion. But how, in this
most modern of ages, do we recognise this item. It is no good to call it “sandwich”,
unless of course the bread with topping is folded in hand to create inners
nestled softly between the bready goodness.
How dare we let ourselves live without name for the common,
how dare we live in a world where what we consume has no identifier beyond a
muffled description shouted from one lounge based individual to a serving
counterpart in the kitchen. Why must I write to further identify the yet to be
identified. It rocks me to the very corps of my laden heart that this most
delectable and comforting piece of food has yet to be given a place within our
food history. We speak the words of pizza, sausage roll, biscuits, crackers, Ryvita,
Kellogg’s crunchy nut cornflakes, Sainsbury’s crunchy flakes, muesli, porridge,
and orange squash. We speak them with such ease and fluidity, but beyond the
life spans of these kitchen bound items, has lived the singular slice of bread topped
with topping and be without name.
But it is no longer. I take you, us, the world and it’s
greater existence into the new and greater. I take we all into the future, make
our history, and forge new territories in the breaded world
Much like the common name Burrito, which exists as a
singular surface wrapped to contain and hold its inners, the newly names has a
dual characteristic, being a coined term named after and by its creator, but
also to retain a rhythm to the already known burrito. I give you the Esposito
“Fancy a burrito” they may ask…
“nah….just give me an Esposito, don’t fancy a whole Burrito”
This ladies, gentleman, young people and old, confused and
bemused, is the birth of the already born, the identity that no one has been
after, cares about, or will use, I give you the this name to move us into a new world order.
Now please, for all things good and lovely, get your self a
cup of tea, an Esposito, and think about doing something better with your time
than reading the ill ramblings of a silly boy.
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