We're supposed to help you. Indeed, we have. Over the past year, this blog has brought you fearless (some would say feckless) reports covering a wide variety of subjects: screw caps on wine bottles, elastic waisted britches, and media coverage of the day Elvis died.
Today, we tackle the sacred -- the making of the grilled cheese sandwich.
And we will plagiarize shamelessly from Jennifer Steinhauer's article in the New York Times on the front page of the Dining In section.
There have been remarkable improvements in frying cheese-filled bread in butter. Most of the innovations come from Los Angeles eateries, not Wisconsin as you might think.
This year, some 600 people entered the Grilled Cheese Invitational at an unpublicized address in Century City, California. In three categories: missionary (bread, butter, and cheese), kama sutra (with meats and other ingredients and better bread), and honey pot(dessert sandwiches).
Still, as much as grilled cheese means to the American pantheon of comfort foods and no matter how dressed up you make it, the sandwich celebration does not rise to the level of the the Spam-O-Rama in Austin, Texas. Or the granddaddy of food fights, the Chilympiad which originated in Terlingua, a Texas ghost town. Food fight? Yes, there are competing events the first week in November. One is sponsored by Chili Appreciation Society International, the other is the Frank X. Tolbert/Wick Fowler Memorial Championship Chili Cookoff.
Focus. We're talking grilled cheese sandwiches here: sourdough bread grilled in butter, maybe a tomato and an onion, served hot enough that the cheese still runs. Ahhh, that's comfort.
Take it to the next level: taleggio cheese, short ribs, arugula and apricot caper puree on raisin bread.
Burp when you're done.