Roasted chicken sandwich

A few ounces of roasted chicken pieces are reheated to hot enough and for long enough to neutralize any microbial threat real or imagined. The chicken was roasted a few days ago, the bread was baked a few days ago, the aioli was cooked which made it possible to store and that was quite awhile ago. I'll be happy to see it go, actually.

For myself, assembling sandwiches is child's play. To make a sandwich now is to behave like a child. I feel myself regressing and approaching the matter as a boy. What would make it perfect from a boy's point of view? Well, we can get rid of those crusts first of all, and everything will fit without sticking out too much or slide out. It will be neat and not a drippy mess. How could I not think such sandwich-related thoughts? After all, I ate one almost every day of the school year. You can see what a bright little ray of sunshine I would have been to be around.

That left a lot of time to sit there examining my sandwich and critiquing before I ever actually attempted to make a sandwich. I asked about these things. Why is butter spread on the bread? Why is the bread square but the bologna is round? Why mayonnaise? Why block cheese? Why is the cheese cut thickly to thinly resulting in a cheese wedge? Why when you cut the final sandwich didn't you eliminate corners? Why did you cut the final sandwich? Why is the filling spread irregularly? Why are they wrapped in wax paper? Why don't you ever put crisps inside? 

Well now I am in charge, and I don't care if I trim off more bread than I use. Those trimmings are managed anyway and right now I am interested in ART and in playing with my food. This regression is comfortable. 

The size of this sandwich is determined by the size of the prepackaged slice of American cheese. The bread is trimmed to fit and so is everything else. One bread slice is painted with a homemade aioli light with garlic and bright with something sweet, and on another bread slice a commercial raspberry preserve is spread, to do for the chicken what cranberry sauce does for holiday turkeys. The cheese is under the reheated chicken to avail its melting carryover heat. The slowly and incompletely melting cheese corrals and holds crisp roughly shredded lettuce.  See? A sandwich from a boy's point of view. 

Know what would improve this sandwich? Thin salty potato chips, potato crisps, really stacked in there and smashed to form a thick reliable layer. The more the better. Potato crisp crunch in every bite. I must have fixed a thousand sandwiches this way. Some sandwiches were so well repaired they became predominantly potato crisps and all other sandwich elements were supportive.