In 1970, I took a packed lunch to school after the dinner served was egg yolks, mashed potatoes and salad, with dessert being whisked egg whites dotted with chopped glace cherries.
We weren’t rich, but didn’t qualify for free school meals, and I considered it a waste of Mum and Dad’s money for such pathetic dinners, so I took sandwiches from thereon.
I’d have something different every day, cheese and pickle, egg, banana, paste and maybe ham. In the winter I took a thermos.
Fast forward to the 1980s, and suddenly I was making sandwiches for kids lunches and also Master of the House.
Working for a vending machine company had its perks because food would come back off site which I could bring home to supplement the household pantry. Pasties or pies would be dinner with a pile of chips and beans but sausage rolls would go in lunch boxes, as would returned rolls and cakes as they were still good.
Kids get bored with the same old fillings, and Preparer here got fed up with making them.
So I decided to surprise everybody.
Ham was the order of the day, and using cutters like the above, I cut the centres out or cut the sides to make half moons.
The kids loved having crinkly sandwiches and were the envy of their mates. Partner was not so impressed as he picked his up and he had a framework with no centre as it was still in the box.
Another time, I cut the bread diagonally but like dragons teeth which again went down well with the boys but not him.
However, I excelled myself on two occasions with partner following angry arguments.
One Christmas I had catered for 15 (mostly his relatives) and forgot the cranberry sauce. He didn’t even like it and made a big thing about it in front of everyone, even though I had made mint sauce which he would have on practically everything.
And there was the clue.
One day, we’d had words over money and he said I was spending too much as I’d cut back on his beer money. I made his sandwiches with mint sauce………………..and nothing else. He wasn’t happy.
But the best, and I reckon I deserve a medal for this, was the rich sandwich.
We’d had a blazing row over a fiver. I can’t remember the full details now, but he ended up throwing it at me and telling me to shove it.
I went one better and he had it between two pieces of bread in his lunch box, with mint sauce of course.
I believe he bought something out that day because he didn’t say a word, neither did he give it back.