Ron's Sandwiches

Some people have breakfast for dinner. Nothing wrong with a little eggs, pancakes and even some French toast in the evening. I’ve never been concerned about what time of day is appropriate for which type of meal. Cake in the morning? Sure. Wine before noon? Bring it on. I guess that’s because growing up I always had lunch for breakfast.

I think it was a combination of two things: I was the world’s pickiest eater and my dad made my breakfast. So what did I have every morning? A sandwich. A ham and cheese sandwich. But to make it a little bit more breakfast-like, he melted it in the microwave. This went on from elementary school all the way up through high school. We came to have this little ritual every day:

After I’d eat my sandwich I would tell my dad, “Thanks. That was a good sandwich,” and he would say, “You know, I think I’m going to start my own sandwich shop—right here on the Link road.” (That was the street that ran outside our neighborhood.) “I’ll call it Ron’s Sandwiches.”

I didn’t like crust back then so I’d always leave this pile of it on my plate. It looked like a massacre so my dad would ask, “Who won the war?”

At some point in high school he got creative and took some plastic palm trees off a birthday cake and incorporated them into my breakfast. So on my plate he’d put the melted ham and cheese sandwich and then the palm trees around the perimeter. He’d often remark, “You forgot to eat your palm trees!” Of course since I was a teenager at that point this would spark some serious eye rolling.

In college I chose sleep over breakfast but when I got out into the working world and had to make my own morning meal, I once again went with the trusty sandwich. Every morning I’d get out the bread, mayo, ham and cheese and melt it in the microwave. I didn’t have palm trees and I had grown to like the crust so it wasn’t exactly the same.

Sometimes I would be running late for work so I had to bring my sandwich with me. There I’d sit, in my cube, at 8:30 in the morning, chowing down on a sandwich. Yes, people thought I was weird. And yes, they thought I just couldn’t wait to eat my lunch. I became known for it: “The girl who eats sandwiches for breakfast.”

Now, I have to admit, I’m such a cliché: I eat cereal for breakfast. But every now and then, usually on Saturdays, I’ll make myself a sandwich for breakfast as a special treat. No, they’re not as good as Ron’s Sandwiches but, come on, he’s a professional. I can’t compete with that.