Cheese

You’ll recognize this sandwich as a Reuben—with a few adjustments. Chief among them: We believe that mustard is the perfect condiment to cut the salty, sweet richness of cured meats, so we’ve replaced the Reuben’s more prosaic Russian dressing with an easy-to-make mustard sauce. Using really good pastrami sets the tone for the entire sandwich. While the meats you typically find in a supermarket are injected with water, an artisanal product is simply cured, then smoked with real wood chips, concentrating rather than diluting the flavors. And though the product is more expensive, you’ll need far less of it. You can try this sandwich with corned beef, too, especially if you’re in the mood for a milder and less smoky experience.

If you elect to make the sausage yourself, you need not have casings—simply make sausage patties instead. Conversely, if you’re making a recipe that calls for patties and you’re starting with sausages that are already in their casings, what’s to stop you from simply ripping them open and removing the contents? We think you’ll be delighted with the results of grilling the fennel and then pickling it lightly. And while we generally encourage substituting ingredients to your own taste, consider sticking with the recommended arugula here. It adds just the right tenor of spice to this sandwich.

We devised this sandwich partly to challenge ourselves. Usually prepared in advance of its use in a sandwich, chicken loses moisture by the time it arrives there. So we looked for a way to keep the chicken moist . . . and we found it. By slowly and gently poaching the chicken, and then storing it in the poaching liquid until it’s used, we lock in the moisture. (Use this trick whenever you’re preparing chicken for a picnic or for use in a salad—the chicken will be moist and delicious, and without oil, to boot. Further, you can use the poaching broth for soup simply by adding more water, some vegetables, and some of the chicken.) We serve this as a pressed sandwich, but it also works well served cold.

We developed this recipe for this cookbook and promptly vowed to place it on the menu in the coming fall. Loosely based on pumpkin ravioli, it is the sandwich equivalent of comfort food.

This is a straightforward version of the classic sandwich—with a few improvements. We opt for good-quality tuna, we use celery root instead of celery, and we roast the tomatoes to extract the most flavor. Since this is a warm sandwich, the roasted tomato actually holds up better than would its raw counterpart. We think you’ll agree that the addition of the fresh oregano brings out the flavor of the cheese.

This sandwich was a real crowd-pleaser when it was on the ’wichcraft menu, popular with adults and kids alike. Why? Probably because it tastes like pizza! We prepare it as a pressed sandwich, but it also works beautifully grilled in a pan with a little olive oil, or if you don’t want to add any fat, heat it open-faced in the oven until the cheeses melt. The mozzarella is milky and gooey, with a great mouth feel, and the provolone adds personality. Roasting tomatoes concentrates their flavor and caramelizes their sugars; it’s a great way of getting the best of a tomato when it’s not at the height of the season. When herbs are a primary ingredient, only fresh will do. But when they are used as a seasoning, as in this sandwich, dried work very well. One way to ensure you have high-quality dried herbs is to dry them yourself. Take a bunch of fresh oregano, tie it up at the stem end, and hang it upside down to dry, outside if possible, but wherever there is plenty of air circulation. When the herbs are thoroughly dry and the leaves fall off the stems at the touch, crumble the leaves, store them in a jar, and use them as long as the flavor remains strong and pleasing, about 2 months.

While we use a delicious aged Cheddar, this sandwich will be a success with other cheeses, too, as long as they have a big presence, such as a sharp Gouda (no subtle fontinas or mozzarellas); because the cheese is the star of the sandwich, it needs to stand up to the other flavors. Use just enough smoked ham to balance the cheese and poached pear. Use a very thin layer of mustard on the bread, right next to the cheese. The bread in this instance should be something nutty and fruity. The tartness of the dried cranberries in our bread is a great addition to the sandwich, so if you don’t have them in your bread, you could add them to the poaching liquid when you prepare the pears.

This is one of Tom’s favorites, one that showcases how a sandwich can be adapted from a meal. The meal here is French onion soup. Whereas in the soup the onion is the star, with the crouton and cheese to support it, in the sandwich we flip that: the onions serve as the relish. We roast the onions very slowly, caramelizing them, until dark golden brown to balance the assertive and pungent Gruyère. With the rye bread to hint at the Alsatian origin of the soup, we end with something rustic and homey, and yet something that, unlike soup, can be enjoyed while walking down the street.

This delicate little indulgence makes a marvelous treat; cut up into little squares, it’s perfect party fare. We were already considering creating a grilled cheese sandwich with fontina when one of our purveyors came to us with the white truffle fondue. Unlike many truffle oil products, this fondue is made with real truffles. We tried it . . . and loved it. It is the ideal complement to the mellow flavor of fontina and the fresh Pullman bread. We wanted to add some sautéed mushrooms, and chose the black trumpets for their low moisture content and springy texture. If you find them fresh—which can be difficult, even in season—rinse them well to get rid of all the grit.

Eggplant is like a sponge, soaking up whatever moisture it encounters. This, at least in part, is why it is typically breaded when fried—the bread crumbs serve as a shield to limit how much oil is absorbed. In this recipe, however, we salt the eggplant for about an hour to remove excess moisture and then fry it without a coating so it absorbs some oil. Decadent? Absolutely; the eggplant becomes luxuriously creamy and custardy. As buffalo mozzarella is a bit milder and softer than regular mozzarella, it is a perfect complement to the eggplant, but you can use whichever mozzarella you prefer. Interestingly, both the eggplant and the cheese are really the supporting cast in this sandwich; it is the relish that’s the star. The secret ingredient? Anchovies. If you need a purely vegetarian sandwich, leave them out, but they lend a subtle kick, and with the sweetness of the raisins and texture of the pinenuts, you have a picante and assertive relish.

We came up with this as a canapé for a party and had a hit on our hands; it’s utterly simple and elegant. Boucheron combines the tartness, chalkiness, creaminess, and pungency that are the hallmarks of different goat cheeses for a beautiful balance of flavor and texture. Served open-faced on delicate bread as a finger sandwich or a canapé, this is dainty and easy to eat, but it can also be grilled as a sandwich if you want something hot and just a little bit oozy.

This sandwich was inspired by a salad of avocado and celery that Sisha grew up eating in his native Chile. Popular in Chile, where avocados are plentiful (they’re sold by the bagful at stoplights for a song), the salad is dressed with lemon juice and olive oil; folks often add walnuts as well. And so we’ve adapted these elements to a sandwich that balances the creaminess of the avocado with the crunch of the celery, the “high notes” of the lemon with the “bass note” of a walnut pesto. We tossed in some watercress as well, to add some pepperiness. A great summertime sandwich, it’s easy to eat, both in the sense that it’s not at all messy and in the sense that while substantial, the sandwich is also light.

A cheese-and-fruit Danish, the Austro-Hungarian apricot dumpling called Marillenknödel, a Turkish dessert of poached dried apricots with sweet-tangy cream and pistachios . . . some flavor combinations just work well, across cultures and continents. This especially pretty open-faced sandwich is great for breakfast, brunch, a light lunch, an afternoon snack, even a dessert; it’s sweet but not too sweet. The colors, tastes, and textures of puffy white ricotta, velvety golden apricots, silky syrupy ribbons of fennel, crunchy toasted green pistachios, and a grinding or two of black pepper on top create a surprise for the palate and a feast for the eye. We both love putting a big platter of these sandwiches in the middle of the table and watching them disappear. Use slightly under ripe apricots; you can stew them longer than riper fruit and so they will absorb more of the flavors of the spices. Other stone fruits such as plums work well, too. The stewed fruit can be prepared in advance and kept refrigerated in its own syrup for several days.

This open-faced sandwich is similar in many ways to a Spanish tortilla. It’s best made in really well-seasoned cast-iron skillets that were passed down from your grandmother. And there’s a great side benefit: the dish is perfect for brunch guests, since it looks so good (and thus makes you look so good) when you’re serving it!

The Italian version of an omelet, in which the whisked eggs and the other ingredients go into a large pan at the same time, a frittata can be eaten warm or cold. Almost any kind of vegetable works well in a frittata. We love the sweetness and flavor of leeks and roasted onions. The original sandwich at ’wichcraft contained only the frittata and good, aged Cheddar cheese. Ben Bohen, a long-time collaborator, would have this sandwich as his regular breakfast—except that Ben would always add roasted tomato. He encouraged the staff to try it, and he encouraged the customers to try it, until eventually he converted us all and we put it on the menu forevermore with Ben’s roasted tomatoes.

Most of us have had the classic egg-and-bacon sandwich. When conceiving of our own, we were inspired by the French salad of frisée au lardons, in which the bacon lardons are rendered and warmed up, gorgonzola is used for the dressing, and the frisée is tossed into the mix, becoming warm and wilted. Here, we have essentially married the salad and the classic sandwich, and the resulting ’wich illustrates that, by just doing a little more, you can take a standard sandwich to a higher realm. If you are preparing this recipe for a large number of people, you can fry the eggs and set them aside on parchment paper on a tray, popping them in the oven to heat them just a bit when you’re ready to assemble the sandwiches. This sandwich would be great made with poached eggs, as well.

Rafael Gonzalez, a Cuban sous-chef at Jean Georges, thought I was prejudiced against Cuban flavor combinations. To prove him wrong, I made this ice cream to pair with Coconut Pain Perdu (page 127) and Papaya-Lime Compote (page 251). It’s got that faintly sour edge of cream cheese, which never seems to overpower other flavors, and a great mouthfeel.

Late-night eating is one of those things that’s pretty much a fact of a chef’s life. Really late-night eating. And I often end up with friends at ’ino and ’inoteca, where they make the greatest panini in New York. One very late night, my cooks and I thought it would be fun to create a sandwich for the dessert menu. Here’s the result. The combination of chocolate with the tangy olives is addictive.

I’m a doughnut fanatic. I love eating them, and I love making them, but I’m always looking for a way to counter their tendency to be oversweet. Here, tangy cheese and the acid from kumquats and lemons are the answer.

I really like the combinations of flavors and textures that result when soft-curd cheeses are served with poached fruit. In this dessert, I add to that by layering on an icy granité and a crisp cracker. I’m not giving you a yield here, since this is more of a combination of flavors than anything, and you can make as many as you like.