Father’s Day is next Sunday and to honor the men in our lives, I decided to do a whole week dedicated to “Man Food.” Now, personally, I don’t believe in ‘man food’ or ‘woman food’ because I’ll pick a rare stake over a cupcake or pint of home made mint chocolate chip ice cream all day any day – so if there are categories, I certainly don’t fall into one. However, these are recipes that make me think ‘manly.’ These are the grab the napkins, roll up the sleeves and prepare your gullet for an experience it won’t soon forgive you for recipes. (Or at least the ones I could think of when I decided to have a ‘man food’ week here at Pass the Sushi). Get in on the action by posting your manly dishes on twitter with #manfoodweek - I’d love to see what everyone else deems manly.
Now, as for today recipes. I wish I could show you pictures of how this really went down. Normally, I cook, set up the area where I’ll snap some pictures while the foods cooking, snap a few when it’s finished and sit down to savor my dinner slowly (this usually has a wrench thrown in it if Handsome isn’t at school late).
That’s not quite how things went this time around.
Oh, I cooked all day, wondering why in God’s name I decided to try this sandwich. I cursed myself for not thoroughly reading the directions ahead of time (which I am guilty of… a lot) to give myself the necessary time needed for this meal. I cursed myself for buying an eye round roast for a sandwich. I cursed myself for spending more than 5 minutes in the kitchen to make a bloody sandwich. I convinced myself there was no sandwich in the world that was worth more then some leftovers salvaged on some bread with 5, maybe 10 minutes of prep work. Don’t get me wrong, but seriously, look at how long those directions are and tell me you wouldn’t think the same thing just once in the process.
And so after mincing, marinating, simmering, roasting, straining, resting, toasting, slicing and dipping I set this sandwich up for its glamor-shot….
That didn’t work out as planned. If I had taken a picture of what was on the plate by the time this was ready to shoot, you’d be seeing crumbs, some smeared au jus and maybe a stray onion I hadn’t licked clean from the plate. That’s right, the sandwich you see in these pictures is actually a member of the B team. It wasn’t even supposed to play today, but after I gorged myself on the first sandwich, making a sloppy mess of things, I figured I owed this one to you all so that you would know the 3+ hours of prep work is worth every second.
A note from a self-proclaimed experienced French Dip eater: Make sure you toast that bread. None of that cute barely golden just warm enough to smear butter on – Im talking live wild and toast it – heck, let the edges get a little black. The better the toasting, the less likely the bread is to crumble under the stress and pressure of all the dipping and enjoying you’ll be doing.