My Not-A-Muffaletta

Man, this sandwich was GOOD. The picture, not so good - I think the ghost of Monet infected my cell camera, everything comes out all impressionistified. But it's not always bad - remind me to post this pretty-cool impressionistic pic of spring blossoms!

Ham, salami, provolone, fresh onion chopped up with marinated artichoke, sun-drieds, and kalamata olive, all on a divine artichoke focaccia from Arcangeli Bakery in Pescadero. A goodly amount of Sierra Nevada Pale mustard on the meat side of the bread, a thin sheen of mayonnaise on the filling side. Hot it up in the oven at 400 degrees for a few minutes, get the cheese melty into the fillings and the bread (and odd salami sticking out) crisp. It was GOOD. I did it right.

Special thanks to a guardian angel on the oven temp assist.

I say "Not-A-Muffaletta" because, being myself a sandwich purist of strong convictions where my beloved South Jersey italian submarine sandwich is concerned, I would never presume to refer in writing to any sandwich which was not on made on muffaletta bread as a Muffaletta Sandwich. That's an affront. The Muffaletta is one of the world-class sandwiches, perhaps (who knows) even coming to within a distant third of my beloved South Jersey italian sub, leaving the #2 spot open out of hypothetical respect for some potential yet unknown exotic colossus of sandwich quality that walks unseen, serene in the distant quarters of the globe which mark its dominion, while I sit here all unawares of its dominance. You have to keep that distant second spot open for that, just in case, just out of respect.

However, its generally acknowledged that from a functional standpoint, in terms of how each performs its duties within a sandwich, the difference between muffaletta bread and focaccia...negligible.