Today, I got a Panini grill. It was on extra-special sale. I also got some olive oil spray for it, and some pre-cooked bacon. I was very excited.
When I got to work I realized I had forgotten the bread.
I was about to go back to the store, when I realized that I still had some pumpernickel rye left over.
You may have guessed what happened next.
Rather than admit defeat, I made a gargantuan triumph, a double-decker masterpiece that contained enough ingredients for two sandwiches:
Red Bell Pepper
Black Horse Pepper sauce
Alas, panini are often made with chabada bread for a reason.
As I closed the lid, I saw the pumpernickel rye become a dark mass, spreading and cracking while the avocado, bacon, and cheddar cheese burst forth.
I kept the lid down and continued to press, determined not to lift it up again until the squeals of protest ceased.
When at last my trembling hand revealed my creation, I beheld a monstrosity. The avocado, bacon, and cheddar cheeses had combined to form a new mottled crust, wholly unknown to the sight of man before this moment. My senses reeled as I turned the beast over, to reveal a mismatched underbelly of dry salami, spinach, and blackened bread.
Indeed, the only ingredient that had not become part of the new, chimeran crust was the red bell pepper. However, the central piece of bread had split and warped during the cooking process to the point that the inner workings of the sandwich adhered to a warped geometry that set my mind into fits of madness.
This was not a sandwich as I have come to known them, but an affront to the natural order the universe.
It was pretty good.