Pancetta, Asparagus, and Sundried Tomato Mayo Sandwich

I was going to call this sandwich the P.A.S.T., or even the B.A.S.T., figuring that pancetta is a bacon, albeit Italian bacon, coming as it does from the pork belly, the same cut that provides us bacon. However, I don’t think either acronym is going to catch on quite as well as B.L.T. has. Then there’s the additional issue with B.A.S.T. being, well, so easily bastardized and, yes, mocked. And no one has any business mocking this sandwich, I can assure you of that.

While I was outside shooting photographs of my rapidly cooling, yet stunningly gorgeous, sandwich, JR was inside devouring his, such that when I returned from my pre-lunch photo shoot, he growled through mouthfuls of asparagus, bread, and pancetta, “ohmmmygoddd, thisisthebesssstsandwichI’veeverrrrrhad, maybethebessstANYthingI’veeverrrrrhad.” “Seriously?,” I asked, cutting diagonally through the now tepid model sandwich. “Yes. Absolutely,” he said clearly, now that the mash that had been garbling his speech had moved on to the digestion phase of its short life. “I’d like another one. Right now.” “We’ll have them again tomorrow. I have enough for tomorrow, too.” A brief silence, then a look of acceptance, followed by happy anticipation, “Ok, that sounds good,” he said, “I can have it again tomorrow.” Amazing what a little bacon flavor will do to a person. Bring him to the brink of disappointment, and then back from the edge with dreams of pork bellies future to keep him going.

If you could use a bit of cheer in your day – and let’s face it, who couldn’t? – I suggest you make this sandwich. And be sure to have enough ingredients on hand to make it again tomorrow, ok?

Dinner tonight: Fiddlehead crostini and Pasta Carbonara. Estimated cost for two: $8.05. The fiddleheads – edible parts of springtime ferns that are harvested in the wild – were $6/pound at the farmers market. I will use at most 1/4 pound for this appetizer tonight, which is $1.50. The bread will be no more than a quarter of a bakery loaf (I am getting lazy – I haven’t made a yeast bread in weeks – this will change soon, I promise) from a loaf that cost $3.29, so that adds 83-cents to the tally. I set out to buy some locally-made fresh goat cheese, but opted instead for this Chavrie cheese – why, you ask? Because, first, they are following me on Twitter, so when I saw it at Whole Foods, my curiosity was piqued; second, it was only $2.99, and we all know I’m rather parsimonious; third, the packaging intrigued me with its claim that it “spreads like silk”. Now, this could be total b.s. (not B.A.S.T., b.s.), but if it isn’t, $2.99 is a small price to pay to find an economical goat cheese option. I’ll let you know. In any case, I don’t imagine I’ll use more than half of the Chavrie cheese, so that’s $1.50. These fiddleheads are a springtime and springtime only snack, people, so I have to splurge. So the app is $3.83. Splurging, I tell you! The pasta carbonara will consist of 1/2 pound of pasta at $1.99/box of the Whole Foods store brand variety. I’ll use two eggs from our chickens, but if you purchased them, they’d be no more than 52-cents. I’m going to use two pieces of bacon at an estimated cost of 50-cents each, so that’s another dollar. Lest you thought this dish was getting too low-fat, I’ll also use a stick of unsalted butter, which is 70-cents, and a half cup of grated Pecorino-Romano, which I estimate is two ounces (I should really weigh this, no?), and that’s $1.00 at $7.99/pound. That gets us a Grand Total of $4.22 for the calorie-laden pasta dish. Hey, at least we got some greens in there, right? Granted, they’re on goat cheese and bread, but they’re still greens. And, hey, $8.05 isn’t bad for a Saturday night dinner, now then, is it?