I don't have fond memories of my high school physics teacher, Mr. Woods. Although he was funny, quirky and endearingly curmudgeonly, I was terrible at physics, and for this he had little patience. Furthermore, he once accused me of having cheated on my homework, which wasn't true. I cheated in chemistry class, but not physics.
Mr. Woods was so certain that I had photocopied my homework from someone else, however, that he pulled out some sort of acid from his pantry-o-chemicals and informed me that it would dissolve pen ink but not photocopier ink (or possibly vice versa). Although the acid test absolved me, he never trusted me again.
Anyway, physics is half of my problem with the bread at Parsley, a sandwich joint in the Golden Triangle.
The ciabatta loaf was so hard that when I tried to take a bite, the sandwich fillings were forced against the bread, and then the opposite and equal reaction pushed most of the fillings out the sides. Gravity, which I vaguely remember from physics class as well, then caused all of that stuff to fall at 32.2 feet per second onto my shirt.
Which is all well and good, because my shirts usually already have stains on them. But in this case, I really liked the stuff inside the hummus sandwich and was hoping to eat it instead. The cucumbers, onion and tomato were tasty and refreshingly chilled, and the red pepper hummus was delicious (I'd never had a hummus sandwich before).
Although the bread wasn't as hard and crusty as some of the ciabattas I've had, this one still left the roof of my mouth bloodied and bruised - not the feeling you want after lunch.
Anyway, the staff at Parsley is even more endearing and friendly than Mr. Woods, so I'd like to go back, but I'll have to cheat and bring my own bread.
Don't tell Mr. Woods. - Jonathan Shikes
For previous sandwiches, check Our Weekly Bread archive.
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