Grilled Cheese

I enjoy a good grilled cheese sandwich. While I'm not above having convenience store white bread slathered with margarine and grilled with processed cheese, I really think that the humble grilled cheese can be elevated to the level of high art.

My typical grilled cheese starts with a nice bread from the Georgetown Bakery, old Balderson cheddar, and butter. Usually I dress it up with fresh cracked pepper and crushed, chopped raw garlic directly in the sandwich, and I cook it as slowly as I can bear on a hungry Saturday morning. Sometimes, as a throw back to my childhood indoctrination into Canada's Food Guide, I'll put a vegetable in the sandwich - a sliced tomato, for instance - or on the side. A grilled cheese accompanied by a dish of sauerkraut is truly something to behold. Of course my recipe is all very fluid, depending on what ingredients I happen to have handy, as well as the whims of my taste at any given moment.

Yesterday I had an inexplicable early morning stroke of genius that took my sandwich to another level. After cooking it until both sides were nicely toasted and the cheese inside was a beautiful gooey mess I sliced a chunk of Camembert onto the top. I turned off the heat, but placed a lid on the pan for long enough to soften the Camembert and sinter it into place.

This sandwich is served on a small Alexis Templeton plate. I like the contrasts in this meal. The colours are one thing: the blue in the plate plays nicely off the yellow and orange of the cheese. More than that though, I appreciate the Dali-esque softness of the cheese compared to the staccato crystallization of the glaze. I didn't pause for too long to take in the visuals though - a grilled cheese must be consumed to be truly enjoyed, and the sooner after it comes off the heat the better.