Sandwich.

I found out when I went home for Christmas that my sister's favourite sandwich is the same as my own: Fresh bread, butter, a slice of ham and a leaf of lettuce.

J and I were shopping today, and he mentioned a hankering for a Togo's sandwich for lunch. So, we went to pick one up after the classic Saturday whopper shop.

I said to the lady behind the counter that i'd like a ham and lettuce sandwich.

That comes with cheese. Do you want cheese?
No, thank you.
Mayonnaise?
No. But, butter please.
Butter?
Yes, butter.

Lady rifles through a fridge under the counter. She retrieves 2 little wrapped up butter things that you get at hotel breakfasts.
They're a bit hard, she says.
She pops them in the microwave.
Bread is buttered.

Butter on bread on display.
Is that OK?
Yep.


She picked up five slices of ham, which she separated and slopped on the bread. She reached for another twenty slices or so when I raised my hand and said That's enough ham, thank you.
OK.

They had lettuce.

It was tasty in the end. Apparently butter is weird in sandwiches, says J.