It's Just a Snack

I get cinnamon right off the bat, then cream. A smooth, young but knowing cream. Flavor, and depth, but sophomoric in finish. And that’s a complement. It yields to the stout crisp of the toast.

Harshly contrasting, I now feel the burn of mustard seeds. Almost overpowering it’s host. 

McClure’s Dill Pickles swiped briefly against a small puddle of Sriracha Chili Sauce. Sour, heat, crunch and salt.

Mt. Olive Bread and Butter Slices - because they were the closest jar when I reached in to the ice box. God I'm a pickle slut.

I honestly cannot remember the last time I approached, or created, a more satisfying culinary riddle.

All are different, contrasting and there. By there I mean THERE. Right in front of me. In my refrigerator when I return home from a long day out with my wife and friends. 

A leftover half moon of Chapel Hill Creamery’s Camembert sliced over some rosemary-olive oil toast and allowed to sit under the broiler along with an almost too old wedge of Smoked Gouda broken down on it's own piece of crusty bread  - THIS IS WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT. 

Cheese Toast. Ok, really good cheese and really good toast. The rich Chapel Hill paired with the sweet preserved fruit and the oozy gouda dunked in the chunky whole-grained mustard.

A snack that took 45 seconds to assemble. Random items pulled together to create, on a simple wooden board, a symphony, a true symphony, of flavors, textures and, above all, combinations.

McClure’s Pickles. Brooklyn. Detroit. Not Charlotte. I bought the non-spicy jar because I am apparently a wuss. Lay a spear next to a dollop of asian hot sauce on your next appetizer platter and call me if you think it was a mistake.

The cinnamon that originally grabbed my attention came from the sliced contents of a jar reading “Abbott Farms Whole Fig Preserves.” I’ve never made a statement like this in this blog so I hope that it carries the weight that I intend...

If you eat any cheese of reasonable quality or toasted bread on any regular occasion then you must buy this product as an accompaniment. 

If you can't make the drive down I-85 between Gaffney and Spartanburg to secure your own and would like some then just call me and I will send a jar your way. A more versatile pantry staple has not yet been devised, in my opinion. 

For the first time writing this blog I sit with my computer inches away from my subject. No notebook, camera or drive home in between. Literally a keyboard on the kitchen counter next to a now empty plate, just a few smudges of red and mustard seed against white porcelain. Everything it held was immensely enjoyed while typing this ...and all I can say is “Damn that was a good snack.”

Go open your fridge. One of the best meals that you have all month might be waiting for you to put it on a plate.