Samwich Butty

Last week, Sandwich Bully Chief Meteorologist Charlie (aka the only guy who writes for Sandwich Bully) decided to put his passport and settlement money to good use and get over his debilitating fear of flying and take an international vacation the easy way: Going to England, where they speak English, just like he does. Sure, he loves his Italian food but he doesn't speak Italian. So he went to London, England passing through Keflavik, Iceland via Icelandair. This is his report.

Icelandair, 26 August 2019

   That's a turkey-pretzel triangle.
   Uh, it wasn't bad.
   I wish I could talk more about it but I was on a milligram of lorazepam and getting over the fact that I was seven miles over the coldest part of the Atlantic Ocean for the first time ever.
   You'll note that I'm knocking back a shooter of Johnnie Black and can of Gull. Those were necessary.

Hjá Höllu, 27 August 2019

   On the ground in Keflavik Airport, which is half airport, half food court, I found this pizza stand by the airport bar / market / quiet area for adults.
   This is the Diavola slice, listed on the menu as tomatoes, mozzarella, pepperoni, olive oil, and fresh basil. It was good and rather light, which is OK because I was still in pants shitting mode but not because I was about to get on another plane, because I was in Björk country, Reykjavik not being that far away. Alas, I didn't get to meet Björk but I saw a lot of Icelandic people. They're tiny. I brought some back in my bag.

The Constitution, 27 August 2019

   After I got checked into my hostel in London (which didn't have drinking water) (?) (I know), I texted Kathryn and she asked me if I ordered fish & chips yet (I'd been in England maybe half an hour at that point and an hour and a half of that was spent in a cab). I couldn't find a reason to not go out so I asked the front desk guy where he goes when he wants fish & chips and he gave me the kind of answer I would've given somebody back when I ran a hostel: The closest place.
   In this instance, it was The Constitution, two blocks away.
   Can I report on this?
   Well, it's better than the fish & chips we get here because reasons.
   I kid. It's actually way less greasy than the fish & chips we get here because the English take care of themselves. I didn't see one obese person this whole trip. Could it be because they don't serve greasy fish and hook you up with a side of crisp steamed peas? I'll say yes.
   I was glad I got this here. If you're in - Hold on.
   See, the GPS said I was in Victoria but the maps and such said Pimlico. Fuck it. You're in London, try this place out.

McDonald's (But It's The English One), 28 August 2019

   They have a bacon butty there.
   They asked me if I wanted brown sauce or catsup and I said no because what the fuck is brown sauce? Who puts catsup on bacon? Y'all got me fucked up.
   My fixer in the UK, Tom, told me to get the brown sauce. I tried it on another butty before I left. It tastes like something between steak sauce and barbecue sauce.

Nando's, 28 August 2019

   This shit was dry as fuck.
   However, I learned the joys of English Fanta that day. It's yellow. It's made with orange juice concentrate. It was splendid. It answered avid reader Sam: Yes, you can make a Harvey Wallbanger with Fanta, provided it's English Fanta.
   But, yo, Nando's was dry as fuck.

White Horse Pub, 29 August 2019

PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE UNAVAILABLE
   "You're not going to shit yourself on the plane."
   "You can't promise me that."
   And that is how I defied my UK handler, Tom, and ordered a Greek Salad. Because we were drinking and I was hungry but I didn't want to eat the kebabs and get weird in my guts. And we were also talking and I don't know if Tom knows that I'm the I write for Sandwich Bully. I mean, he sees my tweets but can I just take a picture of a Greek Salad while we're talking about cinema and writing and UK politics and US politics? Can I do that?
   I mean, sure, I do it in front of Kathryn because she knows and she gives me grief every chance she gets but can I do that in front of Tom? With a salad? A Greek Salad at that?
   No, I'm not that neurotic, I just didn't get a pic, that's all.
   All in all, best Greek Salad I've ever had.
   Not sure that means much. I might have had four Greek Salads in my whole life.

This shit's awful but I'm sure English folks have some things to tell us about our soft drinks.

Icelandair, 30 August 2019

   That's right, the pizza looked better with the lid closed.
   It was alright, I guess. I mean, I like Hot Pockets alright. It was kind of like an open-faced Hot Pocket.

Honorable Mention On The States Side

Tacos Lupita, 2 September 2019

   Kathryn and I had a weekend after I get back. Farmers market, wildflower sanctuary, Lake Nokomis, and then we were hungry and the only thing open near us yesterday, Labor Day, was Tacos Lupita. Maybe Boss' Chicken and Pizza was open but Kathryn nixed that because of their choice in typeface on their sign.
   Tacos Lupita is in this tiny stripmall wedged between a gas station and a laundromat. It must be the only place in the neighborhood (which was Wenonah, our first entry for that neighborhood) because they have a strange array of multi-colored lights in there, probably meant for disco nights or something.
   Food was excellent. I encourage you to go give them your money.

Comments