Hoagie Overboard.
I recently watched ‘The Bear’ on Netflix and it made me think of my first boyfriend who was from Philadelphia and was also dishy and loved a sandwich. He and his family had moved out to Australia when he was a teen, his parents were academics and worked at a University in Brisbane; they scared the hell out of me, to be honest. First boyfriend, first parents of boyfriend. But not only that, they were from The World and I had barely left my suburb in Brisbane. My boyfriend was tall and strong and a lovely, gentle man. He loved to eat and was the first ‘foodie’ I ever met, though no one used that term back then. At a picnic he introduced me to artichoke hearts in a jar which blew my tiny mind. He found a German baker that made the big, salty pretzels he knew from home. From a trip to the States, he brought me back Reese’s Pieces and Hershey’s Kisses – this I found terribly romantic.
One day we thought we would take my dad’s little sailing boat to a nearby dam and have a picnic in the middle. As soon as we hatched this plan, he started talking about the ‘Hoagie’. Obviously, I had never heard of it. He explained, practically salivating, the wonders of the Hoagie, with its many cheeses and many meats, all on the one enormous sandwich. I could not get as excited about that as he, so I left him to the construction, and I packed Baci Perugina (always the wannabe sophisticate and romantic) and made a thermos of hot chocolate – I had my own priorities obviously.
We pushed the little Mirror out from the shore of Wivenhoe Dam. The precious hoagie, foot long and as thick as my arm was wrapped like a gift in cling and foil and nestled like a baby in a towel. We had next-to-no idea how to sail a boat and it’s a wonder why my dad ever agreed to lend it to us. The centre board was stuck but we didn’t think it a big deal. Out we went to the middle of the lake on a gentle, autumn breeze. What happened? Did I point at a bird? The boat lurched and rolled and turned over a full 180, tipping all its contents into the dam including us and our lunch. We thankfully surfaced, swam the upended boat back to shore and sat shivering, drinking hot chocolate (luckily, we had left it in the car), drying out the sails and ourselves in the weak sun. ‘My hoagie,’ my friend moaned. He actually cried a little.
There really isn’t a RECIPE FOR A HOAGIE
Known under many other aliases – Hero, Sub, Italian sandwich, it is of Italo-American origins, a cylindrical roll, split lengthways and filled with cheeses, cold cuts, vegetables and salad. This type of sandwich is different to the Italian Beef of The Bear; to serve it to the masses is serious business. I trust there will be no shouting or exploding toilets in the making of this sandwich. If you are going to pack it and take it on the road (or open water) then it is recommended to put cheese slices on the top and the bottom to prevent the bread from getting soggy. Wrap it well and attach a flotation device!