We're told that books are on their way out, that publishing is headed for doom. So be it. I intend to be the puny inexhaustible voice clinging to the last worthless rock.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
It's to the Irish, most inventive of races, that we owe the sandwich. Etymologically inclined readers will know that the very word comes from "sand wedge," a derisive term applied to the Irish laborers brought over to London to dig the Thames Tunnel under the direction of the legendary Isambard Brunel. These frugal workers would dine on a combination of cheddar cheese, bacon, and tomato - then thought to be poisonous - which they ate between two slices of white bread.
Since I was planning a day of burrowing myself - into my imagination rather than into the sub-Thamesian muck - I made myself a "sand-wedge," seen below.